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Someone will panic, Vectis thought.  There’s always a Survey Broker.  He glanced down at the battering ram.  They were replacing the upper beams, but too slowly.  The soldiers were now within yards of his men.    Across the ravine, a soldier called out.  All eyes fastened on him as he lost his balance on a steep patch of loose rocks, and tumbled twenty feet down the incline.  He lay groaning, holding a dislocated arm.    The enemy commander scowled, showing his disgust.  He signaled his soldiers to return, leaving the injured man to find his way down alone.    In short order the procession was moving again, plodding onward.  The mules brayed under the whip; men groaned and cursed.  Vectis watched with renewed spirits.