‘It was only a matter of time, you killed my brother for fun you bastard. I hope you never find rest.’ Plinius swung the final blow, smashing the optio's skull to pulp. He then simply walked away into the woods nearby. Aegis went to call him back but Spartacus stopped him.
‘No, let him go. He needs time to think – the thought of revenge has burned so hot inside him for so long he requires time to work out what to replace it with.’
Plinius moved to the shadows of a large tree. He knelt, unseen by the rest of the camp and his last action as boy would be to break down and cry for the loss of his brother, for the actions he had taken to avenge that loss but mostly from this point he was no longer a boy. Plinius stayed in the small clump of trees all that night, luckily with all that had happened the convoy never moved from the location he had left it in. Occasionally Spartacus or Aegis would secretly steal into the trees from a distance, just to check on the young man. At one point they came upon each other, both making lame excuses as to why they were in the trees, followed by an awkward silence then both slouched back to camp in a way that resembled a child who had been caught stealing. The two came close to Flora.
‘How is he?’ She asked.
‘I was looking for rabbits,’ Aegis blurted out.
‘I was …" Spartacus stumbled at the same time as Aegis. Flora threw her head back in dismay.
‘Men. Bloody useless!’
Chapter 8
The morning came and activity was at a maximum. Crannicus and Flora prepared Tictus for his journey back to the villa. Flora mothered Tictus and, for once, Tictus seemed glad to receive the attention from his stepmother, with all previous disputes left firmly in the past. Crannicus approached Cassian.
‘Before, I did your bidding because I had to, from this point my brother I do it because I should and because I want to.’ Cassian held out a hand but Crannicus took him in a full body hug. ‘Be careful, I have nearly lost a son, thank the Gods he will survive. I have no wish to lose a brother.’
Flora burst into tears.
‘You men, why does it take such events for you to behave as you should?’ She gently punched her husband's chest.
‘Crannicus, I am honoured to be called your brother,’ replied Cassian who was clearly taken by surprise at Crannicus’ actions.
‘One more thing, when Plinius returns tell him that he will have a home here and I shall call him son and Tictus will call him brother.’
‘I will, I think the young man has done us all a great deed,’ Cassian added.
The convoy moved away, heading towards a port which would speed them across the sea. Plinius returned as it was leaving, Aegis and Spartacus both observed the young man as he joined in step with his comrades.
‘He seems taller,’ Aegis remarked.
‘Indeed he does,’ Spartacus replied.
The small convoy, well equipped and refreshed, made good progress despite the slowness of the oxen. Spartacus had wondered whether the slaying of the optio in such a manner would prove detrimental to the men's morale, however it seemed to generate a more solid bond between each of the men. He had wondered himself whether it would not have been simpler to just slit the optio's throat, but Cassian had insisted that the manner in which he died must be at the hands of the other men, for it was those same men who he had put in mortal danger. Spartacus had to admit, not only to Cassian but to himself, that it was the right thing to do no matter how barbaric and distasteful to watch. Important lessons had been learnt, firstly, that although Cassian was not of a military background he still possessed the spine to carry out discipline no matter how extreme, and secondly that Cassian would not permit disloyalty, those who were disloyal must be prepared to answer for their actions.
The day passed without incident. Bull and Plinius managed to catch some rabbits so fresh meat was on the menu. Unusually, Spartacus and Cassian decided to eat away from the men, giving them the chance to discuss the next steps of the mission.
‘Tomorrow we will reach a small port little known to the authorities. It belongs to my father who purchased the land at the height of his trading days. It will help us catch the boat I have arranged and it will also throw off any would be eavesdroppers as I am sure Crassus’ agents will be expecting us to enter one of the larger ports,’ Cassian informed Spartacus.
‘Then do we sail straight for Utica?’ Spartacus enquired, for he knew that although Cassian gave him parts of the plan he rarely revealed the complete truth.
‘No. From there we travel to Caralis. It will give us a base to do further training and, once away from the port there, I have friends who will keep us from prying eyes,’ Cassian seemed less than sure of this part of the plan.
‘You seem somewhat disturbed by this part of the plan,’ Spartacus remarked. Cassian smiled.
‘There are no certainties in this game we are playing – Caralis is about as lawless as a Roman province gets. The port itself is a hive of cut throats but we dare not arrive at Utica early, the hour of our arrival is key to the success.’
‘What do you mean, I thought this Dido fellow was only interested in the money?’
‘Oh he is, but if we were to arrive early he would have no alternative to report our presence. If we arrive as the registration for the games begins he will be too busy. Not only that but we will be very public in our intentions and we will make it so public he will not wish, or dare, to lose face.’ Cassian seemed to come alive as he went through the plan.
‘This Dido, what more do you know of him?’ Spartacus wanted to know this man, he liked to know all his opponents.
‘His name should give you a clue. He named himself after a Carthaginian Queen who supposedly founded the great city of Carthage and sacrificed herself rather than become the wife of a tyrant.’
‘But surely he would take the name of male warrior, by the Gods Carthage produced enough of them?’
‘That's the point, this man thinks beyond the normal, being different to the point of insanity. When he first called himself Dido it is believed five men laughed at him and, to this day, they say five sets of genitalia hang above his so called throne.’
‘Do you believe the rumours?’ Spartacus asked. Cassian laughed.
‘No not at all. Dido, shall we say, was his stage name. Dido was an arse whore servicing the rich and powerful who had certain vices. He made his name through blackmail and intelligence. Before long he was more powerful than many of his previous clients.’
‘So what stops this man simply killing us the moment we reach the games?’
‘He will want to no doubt, but he will have his name to save. The games have become known as a haven from all authorities, his supporters know nothing of his links with Crassus. He will honour the bet we make with him, especially if we make it so loud and so enormous all will stop and observe.’
‘It seems to be a gamble,’ Spartacus pointed out.
‘A gamble! It's a bloody ridiculous plan but it's all we have. Suicide it may be, but if it works then it will rumble like an earthquake in the pockets of the powers that be in Rome.’
Spartacus did not know why, but he became angry.
‘You forget Cassian, my family's lives are forfeit if I fail this mission. I would like to think they have a fighting chance.’
‘Then let us make a deal Spartacus. Will you honour your word?’ Cassian's eyes burned into Spartacus.
‘I always have,’ replied Spartacus, still fuming at Cassian's jest. His anger matched the intensity of Cassian stare.
‘Then swear to me you will fight with me on this mission and not attempt to escape.’ Cassian looked Spartacus squarely in the eyes.
‘And my family?’ Spartacus replied, unsure to where this conversation was going.
‘Remove family from your thoughts – will you fight with me and the men?’ Cassian had become intense.
‘You have my word,’ Spartacus agreed although by the Gods he did not know why, after all what choice did he have.
‘Then observe,�
� Cassian thrust towards Spartacus a parchment, ‘your family were freed the very night we left my villa. They stay with my family as guests, free to come and go as they please with, may I say, a handsome allowance.’
"But…but why?’ Spartacus was almost dizzy with the magnitude of the situation.
‘I trespassed against you Spartacus, my actions were forced but no less grave. I have learned of the type of man you are and pray to the Gods that one day you may forgive me, for I certainly will not.’ Cassian spoke with tears within his eyes. ‘Man should not make war on children or use them as bargaining chips.’ Spartacus looked at the man and realised he was as much a slave as himself and, although he found it difficult, his words were gentle.
‘Cassian, I can never forget that day but it is clear to me you were not responsible for that act against my son. I will fight by your side and die by your side if necessary. What you have done for my living family has eradicated any actions against it in the past and I will honour my word to you, but under one further condition.’
‘And that is?’ Cassian asked still feeling his shame.
‘When we complete this mission and I see you safely back to your family and I grasp mine safely in my arms, you will give me the name of the man who gave the order to kill my son.’
‘You will have it, though I doubt that day will ever come, after all it is an insane plan.’
Both men laughed long and hard, the tension in the air broken. They both knew a friendship had been forged, and in a world of deceit and betrayal each had a friend they could trust.
They reached the small port owned by Cassian's father the following day just before dusk. The boat was already waiting for them, its sleek silhouette cut an impressive figure. The captain made for the group as they moved into the small square between a handful of buildings. He too cut an impressive figure, although sleek it was not. Spartacus had never met a pirate but, if he had, he would expect him to look like the captain. His skin was burnished to a golden bronze from many days out at sea. There was no uniform, but from how his men reacted to him it was clear there was only one captain aboard his boat. Cassian introduced him to Spartacus.
‘This rather energetic gentleman, Spartacus, is Lathryus, the finest seaman this part of the world has seen in many a year.’
‘Ah too kind Cassian,’ the fellow boomed, slapping Cassian on the back nearly hurtling him down a nearby well. Cassian steadied himself and took a huge breath of air to replace that which had just been removed from his lungs.
‘This is Spartacus, he has a number of talents,’ Cassian winked at the gladiator.
‘A true pleasure and any friend of Cassian's usually ends up dead but until then let us be comrades in wine.’ Lathryus erupted into laughter at his own jest. ‘Do not fear for your cargo, my boys will look after it or the swine will answer to me. Let's get drunk and talk about my exploits.’ He laughed again. ‘Tell me Cassian, did I ever tell you of my exploits fighting the dragons of the nether world?’
‘I believe my knowledge of that wondrous tale is somewhat lacking,’ Cassian smirked.
‘Really! That's probably because I haven't made it up yet. Never mind, bring the wine and I will indulge you of my magnificence, and stories of me besting such creatures that would make a normal man's cock curl,’ again he roared.
Lathyrus wandered off to chastise one of his men, while he did Spartacus took the opportunity.
‘Is he for real?’ He asked Cassian.
‘His tales are piss in the wind but do not be misled to consider the same of the man. His sailing exploits are legendary and the man is the finest bare knuckle fighter I have ever witnessed, maybe even a match for you without weapons,’ Cassian replied.
‘Then it seems tonight we drink,’ smiled Spartacus.
‘Oh and do not try to out drink the man, by the Gods his stomach has no end.’ Cassian spoke in awe.
The night with Lathryus seemed to last an age and Spartacus did not know which would falter first; his legs from the drink or his jaw from the laughter. By the Gods the man knew how to enjoy himself and although he barked at and scolded his men often, they seemed to adore their captain. Cassian explained that each of the men had grown rich on the booty he had won for them. Indeed many could have left the sea forever and lived a life of relative luxury but many stayed, for the money yes but also for the life serving such a man. One by one the drink took the men, falling to happy slumber on wine and roasted boar. Spartacus praised the man who had made it possible, for the future was unclear and all men should sample such a night before tackling the unknown.
The morning light streamed into the small hovel, the light trying to force open the eyes. Spartacus resisted, but the light searched for weakness and eventually burst through like a torrent through a weakened dam. He tried to stand, but a mixture of throbbing head and numb body forced him to sit again. The door burst open and, for a moment, Spartacus thought an attack was imminent, but standing at the door was Lathryus and his booming voice rang out again.
‘Come on you lazy bastards. The tide waits only for the Gods, which you pair are not! The way you two drink is girl-like not God like.’ With that he was gone hurling abuse at some other poor soul. Cassian stirred.
‘I can't feel my legs. Do me a favour go kill that big bastard.’
After a while Cassian and Spartacus finally managed to emerge from the hovel, to be greeted by a wondrous sight. The boat was fully loaded, the men already boarded and all the two of them had to do was try and look dignified as they made their way to the boat.
‘Nice of you to join us ladies, please do step aboard,’ the captain boomed.
The sailors laughed, obviously used to such nights. Cassian's men made a feeble attempt to laugh but most just went back to looking green and sullen. It was not long before the boat began to move. Spartacus stared out, wondering what the Gods would throw at this rag tag group of men next. His thoughts though were interrupted by the swaying of the boat and its effect upon his rather delicate stomach. He gulped down air to try and prevent the feeling of nausea, but the salty sea air only made matters worse. He could not resist any longer and rushed to the rail and vomited which made the rancid taste of the previous days wine haunt his mouth. His action triggered a chain reaction and many of his men joined him, even Cassian was compelled to empty his stomach contents. Lathyrus boomed his laughter.
‘Let this be a lesson to you lads,’ he spoke to his own men, ‘these land lovers drink like little girls at night and complain like old men in the morning.’
His men cheered his words. Spartacus felt the urge to throw the oversized blaggard into the sea but another urge overwhelmed him and again he rushed to throw his head over the rail, accompanied by whoops of joy from the sailors.
As time slipped by the nausea lessened and Spartacus gradually gained his sea legs though when meal time came he refused the remnants of the previous day's roasted boar. Many of his men took the same course of action, only testing their delicate stomachs with dry bread. The sailors and Lathyrus however ate heartily and with substantial quantities of wine, the night's revelry obviously having no ill effects upon them. Cassian, walking very uneasily, joined Spartacus and they observed Lathyrus in awe.
‘The man is not of this world,’ Cassian remarked. Just watching the man even made bile rise to his throat.
‘The big bastard must already be dead for that lot not to affect him,’ replied Spartacus, shaking his head in disbelief. Both slumped down, resting their weary bodies against the rail, the weariness taking them as though both had fought in battle and both were truly amazed as Lathyrus called for more wine.
Chapter 9
The call went up that land was sighted. Many of Cassian's men rushed to see if it was true, few had enjoyed the sea voyage and prayed to be back on a firmer footing soon. The harbour was a hive of activity with boats of all sizes, cargo passing from port to boat and vice versa. But for a Roman province there was little to suggest Roman law was in force. Lathryus boomed.
‘Ok men, you will be making landfall very soon. A word to the wise, keep your purse and your cocks close. The thieves will take your money and cause a whole lot of misery, whereas the whores will give you a whole lot more.’ The men laughed, but the point was taken. Caralis was a place to be on your guard against a whole range of misfortunes, some more tempting than others but every much as dangerous.
The unloading was completed in double quick time. A perimeter was set up as the unloading took place to prevent prying eyes and wandering fingers. The trouble was in protecting what they had a clear signal was being sent there was something worth stealing and it was clear the message was getting around.
‘I do not like it Cassian, the scum round here will gut you like a fish for a handful of coin let alone the cargo you carry,’ Lathyrus said, concern clearly etched upon his face.
‘We have little choice. It is the closest landing area to our training camp and we dared not risk landing in Utica any earlier,’ Cassian replied but his concern also showed.
‘You could have stayed on the boat, cramped yes but free from harm.’
‘Your concern honours me dear friend but the men must train. The task ahead is a deadly one and I would have them at their best. Though to be honest the offer was tempting.’
‘Ah you always were a stubborn bastard Cassian, let's hope this time it doesn't get you killed.’ Lathyrus spoke shaking his head as he did so. Cassian thought the same but he could not see a better way and hoped his stubbornness did not prevent him seeing any better alternatives.
When the convoy was ready to move Cassian gave the order. They would first travel to a warehouse on the outskirts of the port. It was owned by Cassian's father who had such buildings dotted around most of the known world. The problem was it had been out of use for some time, Caralis had become a too unstable port for guaranteed movement of goods. The men were on edge, they could see as well as Cassian that danger was near. Every step they made, every word they spoke was eagerly observed and listened to. This place was lawless and the men who inhabited it were the lowest scum in the empire to whom a man's life was worth the contents of his purse or indeed the load on his wagon.
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