Gladiator: Vengeance

by Simon Scarrow

  Marcus turned to him impatiently. ‘Well, what do you think we should do? Give up?’

  ‘Certainly not. There is a way that might get us through that door. But first I need my writing materials. Listen …’

  Marcus was still keeping watch when Festus and Lupus returned two hours later. Festus was carrying a small bundle under his arm and he parted company with Lupus at the end of the street before coming over to Marcus.

  ‘How’s Cerberus coping?’ Marcus asked at once, anxious that his dog had been alone for most of the day.

  ‘Not happy, as you might imagine. Pining for you the moment we returned. And he didn’t seem to take kindly to being tied to a post either. Won’t be for much longer, though, if this works.’ He jerked his thumb towards Lupus who was waiting at the corner of a building.

  ‘Do you think it will?’

  Festus shrugged. ‘What choice have we got? I can’t think of anything better. We must put our trust in Lupus and be ready to act. Speaking of which …’ He carefully undid the bundle of material and, making sure that no one saw them, revealed two swords. Marcus slipped one out of the bundle and under his cloak, before Festus flipped the material over the remaining sword and held it under his arm.

  ‘Ready?’

  Marcus nodded.

  ‘Then let’s do it.’ Festus turned towards Lupus and made a small gesture. Then he and Marcus threaded their way through the market until they had passed fifty paces beyond the house of Decimus. When he was satisfied they were far enough away Festus turned back towards the entrance of the house, with Marcus at his side. They began to walk casually along the street, while ahead Marcus could see Lupus detach himself from the corner of the building and walk steadily towards them.

  Lupus felt his heart beating fast against the inside of his chest as he made his way towards the man sitting outside the door. He had changed into his best tunic and cleaned his boots and combed his hair so that he might pass for a member of the governor’s household. He climbed the two steps leading to the porch. The watchman did not bother rising from his stool but leaned forward slightly to block Lupus off from the door.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I’ve come from the governor’s palace,’ Lupus explained. ‘With an urgent message from Euraeus to Decimus.’

  ‘Let’s see it then.’ The watchman held out his hand.

  Lupus tried to calm his nerves as he reached into his haversack and brought out the sealed letter. The wax seal bore an impression of an eagle and there was a neat signature across the fold in the parchment. The watchman examined it briefly and Lupus prayed that the seal he had carved from soap and the forgery of the Greek’s signature would look real enough to pass muster. The watchman stood up.

  ‘All right, I’ll see it gets to him.’

  Lupus had been expecting this and spoke up. ‘Euraeus said I was to pass the letter into the hands of Decimus in person.’

  ‘Too bad. The master is not at home.’

  Given that Decimus was lying low, Lupus had also expected this and had a response ready. ‘Then my orders are to ensure the letter is given directly to the steward of the house.’

  The watchman frowned. ‘In person, eh?’

  Lupus nodded. ‘Those were my strict instructions. That, and it is vital the letter is delivered as soon as possible.’

  As he spoke Lupus saw Festus and Marcus approaching out of the corner of his eye and knew that the timing of what happened next was critical. With a weary sigh the watchman stood up and rapped on the door. A moment later the grille opened and a face appeared.

  ‘Open up,’ the watchman instructed, with a nod towards Lupus. ‘Messenger from the governor’s palace. Delivery to the steward.’

  The grille snapped shut and there was a scraping groan as the doorkeeper slid back the locking bolt. With a faint squeal from the hinges the door began to swing inwards.

  ‘Now,’ Festus snapped in a low voice. He charged up from the street, Marcus at his side, swords in their hands in the blink of an eye. The watchman just had time to look over his shoulder before they piled into him, knocking him back against the door, which struck the doorkeeper and sent him sprawling. Lupus rushed in after them. Behind them a few people turned towards the sudden commotion, but before they could react Lupus had closed the door. A handful of passers-by hesitated, then shrugged and continued along the road as if nothing had happened.

  Inside the atrium of Decimus’s house Festus had knocked the watchman out and pulled his body behind one of the benches by the door. Marcus had his boot on the doorkeeper’s chest and held the point of his sword to the man’s throat.

  ‘Decimus,’ Marcus growled. ‘Where is he?’

  The doorkeeper was an older man, with weathered skin and a thin band of grey hair round his wizened head. He held his hands up imploringly as he muttered incoherently.

  ‘Quiet, or I’ll cut your throat where you lie,’ Marcus hissed at him. ‘Now, I’ll ask you again. Where is Decimus? Which room?’

  ‘The M-master’s not here!’ the doorkeeper whimpered.

  Marcus froze. ‘Not here? Not in the house?’

  The doorkeeper shook his head.

  ‘Then where is he?’

  ‘G-gone.’

  Marcus gritted his teeth in frustration. They had kept a close watch on the house all day and Decimus had not gone out. Not by the front door anyway. He might have used the slave entrance but Marcus doubted it. A man of Decimus’s lofty social station would not be able to stomach that.

  ‘When did he go?’

  ‘Yesterday. As soon as he returned from the g-games. He gave orders for his horses to be made ready and left as soon as they were saddled.’

  Marcus withdrew his sword as his mind took in the news. Festus and Lupus came and stood round the prone doorkeeper whose rheumy eyes flitted from one to the other.

  ‘I sw-swear it’s true. He’s not here.’

  ‘Damn!’ Festus balled his hand into a fist. ‘That explains why we were held until this morning. Euraeus wanted to give Decimus a chance to leave Athens before we came looking for him.’ He leaned over the doorkeeper. ‘Where did Decimus go?’

  ‘I-I-I …’

  Marcus poked the point of his sword into the man’s neck, pricking the skin so that a thin trickle of blood ran down his neck. ‘You tell us! And you tell us the truth. You even think about lying and I’ll cut your throat, right here and now!’ He let the threat sink in before he continued in a cold deliberate voice. ‘Where has Decimus gone?’

  ‘To his estate … Close to Tegea. That’s where you’ll find the master. I swear it’s true.’

  ‘Tegea?’ Marcus repeated, to be certain. The doorkeeper nodded. Marcus withdrew his sword and stood erect as he faced his friends.

  ‘He’s got a day’s start on us. And he’s on horseback,’ Festus commented.

  ‘Then there’s no time to lose,’ Marcus decided. ‘We leave Athens at once and make for Tegea as fast as we can.’

  The others nodded and Marcus swiftly prayed to Jupiter, best and greatest, that his mother would still be alive when they reached Tegea. If not, then he would not show one shred of mercy to Decimus.

  20

  They left Athens on foot, not having enough money to buy horses, and not willing to risk stealing any and being caught. They had won the governor’s mercy once. There would be no second time. Festus calculated that it would take them three days to reach Tegea. Having gone through their packs, Festus stripped them down to the bare minimum for the coming march. They left behind all but their clothes, a cloak, canteens, hard rations and the weapons needed for the work at hand. All the rest was sold on the nearest market for a fraction of its true value.

  Lupus had wanted to keep his writing case, but Festus had refused and the scribe could only look on in despair as a Greek merchant picked his way through the pens, inks, styli, waxed tablets and bundles of papyrus, pursing his lips with disdain before making a derisory offer. And Festus had accepted without argument. The only
thing they bought was a short chain for Cerberus in case they needed to keep the dog on a lead.

  There were still a few hours of daylight left when they quit the city and headed west at a fast pace set by Festus. They remained on the road that had brought them to Athens only a few days earlier and carried on marching as the sun dipped and sank behind the mountains, bathing the sky in changing colours as dusk stole across the landscape. Even as the last of the light faded and the stars began to prick out of the velvet darkness above, Festus kept up the pace and their boots crunched over the loose gravel on the road as the air around them swelled with the piercing sound of cicadas, rising and falling in a rhythm that only those small insects understood.

  When they reached a junction where one branch led north and the other continued west to the Peloponnese, Festus stopped and led them a short distance off the road to the shelter of the nearest pine trees. They were already exhausted and did not bother with a fire, but just chewed on some dried meat. Marcus shared some of his rations with Cerberus and the dog hungrily chewed on them, finishing long before his human comrades. Then he settled to watch them eat in a pose of rapt concentration, in case any morsels slipped from their fingers.

  Afterwards they built makeshift beds of pine branches over the carpet of fallen needles and curled up in their cloaks to sleep. The hunting dog lay on his side, pressing his furry back into Marcus and providing some welcome warmth.

  Tired as he was, it still took Marcus a while to relax his mind and body. While the others slumbered, he stared through the branches above at the stars, tormented by thoughts of his mother and the desperate race to reach her before Decimus decided to do her any harm. He had a good lead and could reach his estate as much as two days ahead of them. Anything could happen in that time and Marcus dreaded the prospect of racing to the scene only to discover that his enemy had put an end to his mother.

  As he briefly allowed himself to think that she might be dead, his mind filled with dark, bloody images of revenge. Decimus would die by his hand, which was all that would matter to Marcus. He had no thought of any life beyond that moment, only a dark, despairing void. So he tried to allow himself to hope. To imagine rescuing his mother, and seeing the love in her expression as he felt the comfort of her arms about him again. They would return to the farm, and Marcus would find a way to earn enough money to buy it back from whoever owned it now. In time they would build a proper tomb for Titus where his remains could be interred with due respect. They would work the land together and Cerberus would guard their sheep from the wolves during the winter. His mother would grow old but would never forget that Marcus had saved her, regarding him with pride and affection.

  It was a pleasing world that his imagination had conjured up and it filled his heart with contentment, eventually allowing him to drift off to sleep. He did not wake even when Cerberus stirred in the middle of the night and sat bolt upright, nose sniffing the air and fixing on the sharp scent of a passing fox. He growled lightly and there was a rustling nearby as the feral animal turned and bounded off into the trees. Satisfied that his master was safe, the dog settled down and gave Marcus a gentle lick on his ear before lowering his head between his paws to fall into a blissful sleep.

  Festus woke before dawn, just as the first rosy fingers of light reached over the horizon. He grimaced at the stiffness in his muscles as he sat up and stretched his shoulders and neck before standing to prod the sleeping forms of the two boys with his boot.

  ‘Come on. Wake up!’

  ‘Eurrgghh,’ Lupus moaned, before turning away and curling up in a tight ball. Festus muttered a curse and poked him again, harder this time.

  ‘Get up, boy! Before I have to kick you.’

  Lupus cursed him as he blinked his eyes open, rubbed them and eased himself up into a sitting position.

  Marcus forced himself to stand and rubbed his eyes while Cerberus looked at them all in turn as he wagged his tail. Yesterday’s fast pace had left Marcus’s legs aching but he knew that worse was to come if they were to cover the distance to Tegea in the time that Festus had allowed.

  ‘Eat something now,’ the bodyguard ordered. ‘I want to be on the road again at first light.’

  Lupus sat still while his sleep-clouded mind gradually cleared. Then he reached for his haversack and took out another strip of the dried meat that Festus had bought in the market after selling the rest of their possessions. He stared at it with distaste.

  ‘I hope we won’t have to eat this all the time. Why don’t we hunt hares like we did before, Festus?’

  ‘Because we can’t spare the time to hunt, build a fire and cook,’ Festus replied tersely, then bit one end off the strip in his hand and began to chew. At length he continued, ‘But we could buy some food on the way, if we get the chance.’

  ‘We’ll need to,’ said Marcus as he handed one of the pieces to his dog. ‘If only for Cerberus. He can’t live on this.’

  Festus nodded, looking at the dog, and then he finished chewing. ‘It might have been better to leave him behind.’

  Marcus looked up sharply. ‘After he saved out lives? No. He stays with us. We may need him. Besides, at the moment, Cerberus is all that I have left to me from my family.’

  ‘You have us. Not family as such,’ Festus said awkwardly, ‘but almost as close as family.’

  Marcus stared at him and gave a light laugh of surprise. ‘I never knew you cared.’

  Festus scowled. ‘What? You think we haven’t known each other long enough to form a bond? And Lupus too. You think we’d have gone through all that we have just because Caesar told us to come with you? We’re in this to the end, Marcus. Whether we find your mother and deal with that scum Decimus or not. That’s what comrades do. Isn’t that right, Lupus?’

  The scribe was as startled by Festus’s uncharacteristic outburst as Marcus. He nodded. ‘Brothers in arms, and all that. Absolutely.’

  Festus sighed. ‘I was making a serious point.’

  ‘And so was I.’ Lupus smiled uncertainly.

  There was a moment’s awkward silence and Cerberus, with that peculiar sense that dogs have for people’s moods, looked to each of them in turn with big brown eyes full of concern.

  ‘Right then!’ Festus thrust his half-eaten strip of meat back in his shoulder bag and picked up his cloak. ‘Enough of that emotional nonsense. Let’s move. I want to reach Corinthos by the end of the day.’

  The boys hurriedly made ready and joined the bodyguard as they hurried back to the road and set off. Festus set the pace, striding a few yards ahead. Lupus, thanks to his gangly height, kept up at first and Marcus came last, with Cerberus trotting at his side. He was still taken aback by their last brief exchange and he glanced down at the dog, raising his eyebrows as he whispered, ‘Who would have thought it, eh, boy? Under that rock-hard skin, there is a very human heart after all.’

  Cerberus looked up at the sound of his voice, then lifted his muzzle to sniff the cool morning breeze as he wagged his tail gently.

  Marcus chuckled. ‘Well, at least someone’s happy.’

  But Marcus’s good humour did not last for many miles. Festus kept the pace up as they followed the road through terraced farms and past small whitewashed villages stirring into life as the sun rose into a clear sky. To their right the hills and mountains reared up, forested slopes a verdant green, while to their left the coast gave way to a blue sea, shimmering and sparkling in the morning sunlight. Mile after mile, the road wound along the coast and their feet began to ache long before noon when Festus finally called a halt beside a stream. The water was cool and refreshing and they soaked their feet in its soothing flow for a short while, before Marcus stood up to put his boots back on, the urgent need to reach Tegea weighing on his mind.

  There were no more streams before they reached Corinthos at dusk and Marcus had to share the water in his canteen with Cerberus as they trudged beneath the beating afternoon sun. By the end of the day all their exposed skin was red and tingling from sunburn
. But they were too tired to care and were asleep soon after collapsing on the cheap mattresses in a back room that they rented for the night from a dour innkeeper. They left before first light, limbs stiff and feet sore, and Lupus could only glance longingly at the dark outlines of the temples and theatres he would not have the chance to explore – at least not until their desperate hunt for Marcus’s mother was over.

  After they left Corinthos the road climbed into the mountains of the Peloponnese and the going became more difficult and exhausting. Even Cerberus, who had been enjoying the exercise of the previous days, now walked at Marcus’s side with his long tongue hanging out as he panted. During the afternoon they came across a young shepherd who had killed some hares with his sling, and Festus bought four, which they cooked and ate that night. Except for one that Cerberus devoured raw, crunching contentedly on the bones as he sat in the glow of the fire.

  ‘We’ll reach Tegea tomorrow afternoon,’ Festus announced as they finished their meal and made ready to sleep on the beds of pine branches at the edge of a forest, where Festus had decided to make camp.

  ‘As Decimus has an estate close to the town, either he, or his servants, will soon get word that we’ve arrived. Decimus may even have instructed that he is to be informed the moment any man with two boys and a dog are sighted near Tegea. So we can’t risk entering the town together. My plan is this. Marcus will enter Tegea alone while Lupus, Cerberus and I find somewhere to hide outside of the town. The moment you have located the estate, you come back and we scout it out together.’

  ‘Scout it out?’ Marcus frowned. ‘We haven’t time for that. The moment we know where the estate is, we must rescue my mother.’

  Festus looked at him patiently. ‘You’re tired, Marcus. Your mind is troubled, and no wonder. But if we are to save your mother then we must give ourselves the best chance of doing it. We have no idea how many men guard the estate. We don’t know where your mother is held. If you want to see her again, we must do this right. We go charging in there, swords out, then there’s every chance we’ll be killed, and there’ll be no one to save her. Understand?’