The Gladiator c-9

by Simon Scarrow

  'Tribune Cato?' a voice called out. 'Is Tribune Cato there?'

  'Here!' Cato waved his arms. 'Over here!'

  'Thank the gods!' He recognised Balbus's voice, then the navarch continued,'Have the ships been taken?'

  'All but the three on fire. There may still be some rebels hiding aboard some of the ships. Send your marines over.'

  'Aye, sir. Have your men ready to take mooring lines.'

  One by one the warships came alongside the grain ships and the sailors cast lines to the legionaries to fasten to cleats, then the ships were hauled side to side. As soon as the boarding ramps were lowered, the marines boarded the grain ships and took charge of the prisoners and began to hunt down the remaining rebels. Balbus was one of the first men to cross over from his flagship, and he hurried up to Cato.

  'Good to see you again, sir.' He saluted.

  Cato could not help grinning. 'Sounds like you doubted that you would.'

  Balbus shrugged. 'I'm delighted to be wrong. However, when we saw the fires I feared the worst. How many of the grain ships did we lose?'

  'Four — three here and one on the beach.'

  'Only four?' Balbus was relieved.' Splendid. We only had a little bit of trouble ourselves. One of the liburnians ran aground near the peninsula. Not bad for a night operation so close to shore.' He puffed himself up with pride in his achievement.

  Cato glanced towards the shore. Fulvius and his men had already broken into the rebel camp and were cutting the enemy down in swathes. He turned back. 'You take command here. Secure the grain ships and send some of your marines to reinforce the men ashore.'

  'Yes, sir. Where are you going?'

  'I still have one job left to do,' Cato said quietly. 'Try and save the hostages. If anything happens, I've left orders for Centurion Fulvius to take command.'

  Balbus nodded.' Good luck, sir.'

  Cato laughed at the navarch's dour tone. 'You seem to make a habit of doubting me. I'll be back, Balbus. I give you my word.'

  'Good luck anyway, sir.'

  'Thanks.' Cato clapped him on the shoulder, turned to Atticus and the others and led them off to find one of the tenders moored to the remaining grain ships.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  The tender grounded on the small strip of sand with a slight jar that sent Atticus sprawling on to his knees.

  'Shit,' he muttered as he struggled up and then climbed over the side with the others.

  'Better all speak in Greek from now on,' said Cato. 'If we're going to be taken for rebels.'

  They had helped themselves to some tunics from the rebel bodies on the grain ships and fastened their sword belts over the top. If anyone took the time to look hard at them, the Roman swords might look suspicious, but they could pass them off as captured kit if stopped. From the sounds of confusion and panic coming from the camp, Cato hoped that the rebels would be too busy trying to save themselves to be worried about Roman intruders in their midst.

  He indicated a rock a short distance away. 'We'll put the boat behind that.'

  Once he was satisfied that it was hidden from view and would still be there if they needed to make a quick escape, he led the others up towards the large tents in that part of the camp he had seen Ajax and his escort make for the previous day. The slope was rocky and dotted with shrubs and clumps of gorse that snagged their tunics as they crept forwards. At length the gradient eased and they could hear voices more clearly. There were hurried exchanges of shouts, but none of the panic and pandemonium that was evident in the main part of the camp. The ground here was sparsely covered where the rebels had ripped up the dry plants and bushes for kindling. There was a sudden rustling to their right, and Cato waved his men down and dropped to the ground himself. Ahead of them a small group of figures ran by: a man, woman and two children, all of them clutching bundles. The man looked nervously towards the top of the slope and urged the others on. They passed a short distance in front of the Romans without seeing them, and ran off into the darkness. As the sound of their footsteps faded, Cato let his breath out.

  'Come on,' he whispered.

  They continued, and now the glow of camp fires illuminated the crest above them. Keeping low and glancing from side to side, they proceeded warily. The ridges of tents were visible over the crest, and Cato made towards a small outcrop of boulders that would conceal them as they took in the situation. There turned out to be a natural gap between the boulders wide enough for two men to lie down, and Cato ordered the legionaries to stay back while he crawled forward with Atticus. The rocks stood on a slight rise and the position gave them a good view over the flat area of ground that the enemy commander had chosen for his tent and those of his bodyguards. The largest tents were surrounded by an open area, then smaller shelters, and off to one side a small shack and pens that seemed to have been abandoned many years ago. A number of camp fires were burning down, having been abandoned in the rush to counter the Roman attack. As Cato surveyed the scene, he could see several figures close to the largest tent; some were armed with spears, and an old woman squatted to one side hurriedly loading possessions on to a blanket that lay open on the ground. Other rebels were visible flitting through the shelters as they ran from the Roman forces advancing round the bay. Cato could not help won de ring what these fugitives might hope to achieve. When they reached the end of the peninsula they would be trapped.

  'What now?' muttered Atticus. 'Where do you think Macro and the senator's daughter are being kept?'

  'It has to be somewhere close to his tent.' Cato recalled the savage glee in the gladiator's eyes as he contemplated the suffering of Macro and Julia. 'He'd want them nearby, near enough to sense their torment. Some where he could keep an eye on them. In one of the tents perhaps, or in those pens. We have to get closer.'

  Atticus nodded. 'Best circle round then, sir. Come up behind the pens from where there's not so much light from the fires.'

  Cato examined the ground.' Yes. You're right. Let's go.'

  They shuffled back, rejoined Vulso and Musa, and then the four of them moved through the scrub on the fringes of the tents, in a long arc round to the far side of the peninsula. There were many more fugitives streaming up the hill from the direction of the main camp, and by some unspoken mutual consent the small party of Romans and the fleeing rebels warily shifted some distance round each other in the shadows, then hurried on. At last Cato saw that the pens were in line with the largest tents, and gestured to the men following him.

  'Let's get in closer.'

  They padded through the outermost shelters: makeshift tents spread over crudely cut frames, nearly all empty after the initial rush down towards the battle being fought on the other side of the bay.

  Some were not empty, however, and Cato felt his flesh freeze at the sound of a shrill shriek, before he realised it was an infant crying. A woman murmured gently and the crying quickly died away. There were others amongst the shelters, fleeing from the camp, who had taken the chance to pause long enough to ransack some of the empty tents they were passing through. Cato nearly tripped over one of them, a man bent down in the shadows as he dragged a large silver bowl through some tent flaps. Cato stopped in his tracks. The man jumped to his feet, where the glow from the fires lit up his features.

  A wrinkled face, half hidden by shaggy hair, and an unkempt beard.

  He snarled, revealing a handful of jagged teeth.

  'Look out, sir!' Atticus pushed Cato aside as the rebel lashed out with a knife. Cato heard it swish close to his ear, and then there was a dull crunch as Atticus floored the man with a punch. As the rebel collapsed unconscious to the ground, the optio snatched the knife from his fingers and drew it back, ready to cut the man's throat.

  'No.' Cato held his arm. 'Leave him. Let's go on.'

  The pens were only a short distance ahead of them, and Cato weaved cautiously through the remaining shelters until they reached the rear of the structures. Beyond them the ground was open all the way to where the group of men were g
athered in front of what Cato assumed to be the gladiator's personal tent. They were watching the destruction of their comrades down in the camp, and talking in anxious tones, though Cato could not catch the sense of what they were saying. The walls of the pens stood as tall as his shoulders, and he knew that if he stood up to peer over the walls to look for Macro and Julia he was almost sure to be seen.

  He rose up as high as he dared and called out softly, 'Julia?…

  Macro?'

  There was no reply. He called again, a little louder this time. Still there was no reply.

  'They're not in there,' Atticus muttered.

  'No.'

  'So what do we do?'

  'Keep looking,' Cato said firmly, and edged along behind the pens until he reached a gap where he could crawl forwards and look round from the safety of the shadows. He saw it almost at once — a cage a short distance from the largest tent and away from the other shelters. It was on the highest point of the camp, exposed to the elements. Cato edged back as yet more rebels fled past. The Romans flattened themselves to the ground and lay still. Once the rebels had gone, Cato turned to the others.

  'I know where they are: Macro and Julia.' He told Atticus and the others about the cage.

  'Did you actually see them?' the optio asked.

  Cato shook his head. 'Too dark. But where else could they be?'

  'I'm beginning to think they could be anywhere. Pretty soon this place is going to be overrun with slaves fleeing up from the main camp. We'd best find the hostages as soon as we can, sir.'

  'Then let's move.' Cato gestured with his hand and rose into a crouch, making his way back a short distance from the pens and in amongst a cluster of the shelters. He paused to let the others catch up, then the small party continued through the last of the huts and along the slope, out of sight of the tents. To their right the sea was a dark mass, and the sound of the waves breaking on the rocks below came clearly to their ears. When Cato judged that they were parallel to the cage, he led them back up the slope, cautiously picking his way through the stunted bushes and rocks. Some one shouted a warning, then there were more raised voices, and Cato paused for a moment until he realised they could not have been seen. A few more steps and then the ground evened out and they could see the cage, twenty paces away. Beyond that there was a patch of open ground and the side of the tent with the men forming a screen before it as they fended off a stream of rebels rushing past. For the moment none of them were watching the cage. Cato squinted and saw the dark shape of a bulky figure within, slumped against the bars. Hope made his heart beat faster, then he felt a chill of fear as he realised that there was only one person in the cage, unquestionably male.

  'Macro?' he called out.

  The figure stirred, then replied gruffly, 'Who's that?'

  Cato released a sharp breath of relief. 'It's Cato.'

  'Cato?' Macro's voice was strained. 'By all the gods, let it be true.'

  'Just a moment.' Cato turned to Atticus. 'You come with me.

  Musa, Vulso, you keep watch. Let me know if anyone comes.'

  Cato kept low as he scuttled across the open ground, closely followed by Atticus. They kept a watchful eye on the rebels, but no one looked in their direction. As he reached the cage, Cato's nose wrinkled at the stench of human waste. He dropped down beside the bars, opposite Macro.

  'It really is you.' Macro's voice rasped.' Thought I was going mad.

  Get me out of here.'

  'Where's Julia?'

  'In the tent. Ajax sent for her. Had her cleaned up first.'

  Cato felt the blood go cold in his veins. 'Did he…?'

  'How the hell do I know?' Macro shook his head. 'Get me out of here and we'll go and rescue her.'

  Cato examined the do or to the cage.' Damn, it's locked.'

  'Of course it's fucking locked,' Macro hissed.' Why else would I still be in here?'

  Atticus chuckled.' Nice change to see you locked up.'

  'Who's that with you?' asked Macro.' Not that twat Atticus?'

  'The same.' Atticus grinned.

  'Bloody great,' Macro muttered. He fixed his gaze on his friend.

  'Cato… thanks.'

  'You didn't think I'd leave you to die?'

  Macro was silent for a moment before he replied. 'There were times when I gave up hope.'

  'Thanks for the vote of confidence.'

  Macro chuckled drily.

  Cato grasped the bars of the cage door and gritted his teeth as he strained to prise them open. He gave up with a bitter grunt. 'We need the key. Who has it?'

  'One of the guards, over there.' Macro pointed him out. 'If I can get him to come over here, can you two handle him?'

  'We'll have to.' Cato crouched down behind Macro, and indicated to Atticus to lie flat.

  Macro grasped the bars of the cage, drew a deep breath and bellowed, 'Guard! Guard! Over here!' He paused a moment and repeated his cry, shaking the bars more violently. One of the men by the tent turned in his direction and then spoke to the rebel who had been tasked with watching Macro and Julia since their capture. He picked up his spear and wearily approached the cage.

  'Keep it down, Roman!'

  'Fuck you!' Macro shouted back and shook the bars again. 'Fuck that old hag of a mother of yours!'

  The guard paused and then growled with anger as he ran towards the cage and lowered the tip of his spear.

  'Shit…' Macro just had time to mutter, before the spearhead rattled through the bars, and he dodged to one side to avoid it.

  Instantly he snatched at the spear shaft and thrust it to one side. The other end swivelled sharply, and caught the guard off balance so he tumbled over and crashed into the side of the cage. Macro released the shaft and thrust his arms through the cage, grasping the guard round the neck and hauling him up against the bars as he flailed at Macro's brawny forearms.

  'Get him!' Macro grunted. 'Before he works loose.'

  Atticus was up first, scrambling round the end of the cage and dropping heavily on the guard, driving the breath from his body as Macro tightened his grip, choking the rebel. He struggled violently for a moment and then went limp. There was a shout from the direction of Ajax's tent, and Cato saw that the other rebels were looking across the open ground. As soon as they realised what was happening, they snatched up their weapons and began to sprint towards the cage.

  'Get the key!' Macro shouted at Atticus.

  Cato glanced back towards Musa and Vulso and beckoned frantically ' On me!'

  Atticus snatched away the thong around the guard's neck, grasped the key and fitted it to the lock as the rebels ran towards them. As soon as the lock clicked, Macro burst the do or open and grabbed the guard's spear. Rising up into a crouch, he swung the point round toward the rebels as Atticus and Cato drew their swords. With an animal roar Macro charged forward.

  'Bloody hell, there he goes again,' Cato muttered under his breath as he hurried after his friend, moving to the right as Atticus went to the left. The fury on Macro's face must have been evident even in the wan glow of the fire burning in front of Ajax's tent, for the rebels hesitated and regarded him fearfully as they readied their weapons.

  There were seven of them, eight counting the old woman, who had picked up a hatchet and screamed in rage as she hurried after the others.

  Cato glanced up and saw the rebels lowering their spears as the gap between the two groups of men closed. The rebels crouched, feet apart and balanced, spears held ready as Macro and his two companions charged in, Musa and Vulso sprinting hard to catch up.

  'Five men against seven spears and a mad woman with an axe,'

  Atticus laughed.' Not good odds!'

  There was a sharp rap as Macro parried the thrust of the first man he encountered. Still running, he lowered his shoulder and slammed into the rebel, knocking the other man on to his back. Macro ran on, skewering the next man ahead of him before he stopped, wrenched the spear shaft free, presenting the point to the three men before him in turn.' Come o
n!' he shouted. 'Who's up for it?'

  Cato kept his eyes on the man who had singled him out and who now came on, spear lowered. He thrust at Cato's face but the point was easily deflected with a clatter. Cato lunged forward, forcing the man back, and kept with him, ham me ring at the shaft of the spear, knowing that it would numb the rebel's fingers. One more blow and the spear fell. The man turned and sprinted away. Cato let him go and turned to see Atticus locked in a duel with another man, more skilled with his spear than Cato's opponent had been. Musa was down, piked through the thigh and desperately warding off further blows from another rebel as blood gushed from the wound. Vulso charged into his man, knocking aside the spear, then smashing his fist into the rebel's face a moment before his right arm swung, driving his sword through the man's stomach and up into his chest, carrying him off his feet. The rebel's knees collapsed and he sagged back on to the ground, a great tear across his front through which bloodied intestines bulged.

  'Musa!' the legionary called as he turned to help his comrade. It was too late: the old woman had crept up behind the down ed soldier and now smashed her axe down into the top of his skull. Musa's head snapped forward, eyes blinking. Then his body jerked furiously as he toppled over. The woman yanked her axe back with a shriek of triumph and turned towards Macro, snarling as she glanced at the body of her son stretched out by the cage. Cato started forward, but the man who had been fighting Musa blocked his path. Macro was in danger, so there was no time to stick to his training and take the man down by swordsmanship. Cato filled his lungs and let out a roar as he hurled himself forward. The spear point came up and the man braced his feet for the impact. At the last instant Cato went down low, rolled over and slashed at the rebel's leading leg as he came up.

  The blade shattered the bone and the man screamed as he collapsed.