Spartacus

by Robert Southworth

  They conversed for some time, not on the sadness of Trabus’ passing but on the household of Trabus and, within a short time, Cassian was aware the household was in good hands. The house of Trabus would not falter and slip away with the passing of the man, she would not allow it. Celese would honour the man by ensuring all was well with his household and securing its future.

  Chapter 13

  The pyre was built high and Trabus’ wrapped body placed gently on top. His family wept for their loss, and the men who owed so much to the man, stoically held their tears inside, for it would not do to shed them before the women, but still the tears flowed within. The pyre burned brightly and although the scented spices attempted to hide the smell of the burning flesh they never really concealed it. It clogged the nostrils and tasted on the tongue, only those so deep in grief were not aware, the loss of the man consumed all.

  Cassian had been unusually quiet after performing the task of informing the family of the demise of Trabus. He was trying to converse with Albus and ensure the men were comfortable but Spartacus was aware that even the usual high spirits of the young Roman were at a low ebb. The ceremony, though right and proper, was unlikely to soothe the mood within the man and the rest of the camp. Spartacus spent his time, though really only wanting to sleep, talking to each man in turn, judging each of them, sharing a joke or two if possible. Only Bull stirred from his slumbering spirit, and it seemed to Spartacus that a man such as Bull was worth ten other warriors, for he invigorated others whenever he could. He remembered that Bull's father was a centurion and decided Bull must have inherited the qualities from his father. To keep men going when, often, they would prefer to give up. It was a fine quality and a dangerous one, which set him apart from the normal soldier.

  The night moved on, with the ceremony past the crying died away and men, who on the previous night faced death, began to relax. Food was consumed and wine taken in huge quantities. It was not long before laughter broke out from all quarters. Men, rather than looking back in horror, spoke of each other's bravery and the daring deeds they had achieved. All saluted the brave Trabus and other comrades who had fallen but it was different from earlier. That night men celebrated the fact they were alive. Spartacus saw the change in the men, saw how quickly they had stepped away from the abyss of despair and marvelled at the speed in which they recovered. He smiled for the mission was still on.

  The following day was used as a rest day, although the men were not allowed to laze about drinking wine – not that many could bear to smell the stuff after the previous night. Each man was taken to the baths and, after being cleaned thoroughly, they were massaged, the tiredness being driven from each muscle. All cuts were treated by Aegis and his mysterious herbs, much to the dismay of the resident healer. The men chose Aegis not only because of the respect they felt for him, but the men were of a military background and they believed most Roman healers to be butchers, whose only answer was to cut and saw. Everything they did was as a group. They ate together, a huge pig was roasted on a spit down by the orchard and was hungrily devoured by the men. Cassian and Spartacus both joined in, for they too needed the feeling of solidarity just as much as the men.

  Plinius had taken to talking to a young slave girl and the men teased him about it although, Spartacus noticed, never teasing him when the girl was near. They boasted of his skills to her, it seemed they too wanted the girl to see Plinius in a good light. Whenever she was near, the young man blushed and he initially stammered quite badly when he attempted conversation with her, but eventually his confidence grew and he spent more and more time with her. The first day ended and the men looked more and more like their old selves. All were excused guard duty, Albus’ men performed all of those, so when sleep time came it was complete and without fear of attack, a luxury the men had not enjoyed for some time.

  The next day the men were put through the basics of arena fighting by Spartacus. Each man chose a sword and shield which was unusual within the arena. It was too late to train them in the use of other weapons and, besides, in such a deadly tournament a man should use what he is most comfortable with. The arena offered different challenges to normal Roman soldiery. The enemy rarely came just from the front, the battle raged all around. Many a good gladiator had been speared from behind whilst concentrating on foe to the front.

  The men they would fight trained endlessly night and day to perfect their art but they trained as individuals, seeking glory for themselves. The one advantage Spartacus’ men had was that they were used to working as a unit. He knew this was their best chance for both victory and survival. They worked in the morning using the heavy wooden swords which would strengthen the arm. As the training weapon was heavier than a real sword, when the battle came, a proper sword would feel light in the hand. They sparred with Spartacus as an opponent. He used the sword firstly and then moved onto the fuscina, a vicious looking trident which was used in conjunction with an inretire, a net designed to tangle the opponent and leave him to the mercy of the fuscina.

  There were other weapons but merely variations on the two main types and it was these main weapons Spartacus concentrated upon. Time and time again the men were felled by him but they rose immediately, eager to learn all he could teach them. He taught them tricks of the trade to throw an opponent off guard and told them to kill immediately they had the chance.

  ‘No quarter will be shown in this tournament and so we will not give any and, besides, a wounded man can sink a dagger into flesh just as well as an uninjured one,’ he explained.

  Only Plinius managed to knock a sword from Spartacus’ hand. Unfortunately for him it was when he was fighting with two swords and no shield and it was not long before the still held weapon was lying at his throat, but all the men cheered the efforts of Plinius, who puffed out his chest in recognition of it.

  The slave girl watched Plinius and she applauded the young man. Seeing this Plinius again blushed a rich scarlet but inside his heart skipped a beat. Cassian too had noticed this and when the men disbanded he called Spartacus to him.

  ‘Spartacus I believe the young man has designs on that pretty slave,’ Cassian smiled as he spoke.

  ‘Certainly, but he needs to keep his mind on what he is doing, not on what's between her legs,’ Spartacus replied earnestly.

  ‘Then I suggest we hurry things along. The boy needs to let off steam I believe, and quickly for otherwise he might burst.’ Cassian turned to the girl as he spoke and gestured she should come near. The men moved from the square to bathe and it was an ideal time for a chat with the girl, out of sight of Plinius.

  ‘What do you have in mind?’ Spartacus asked.

  ‘I am a deal maker Spartacus. I am sure I could offer the girl a deal which would tempt her to open her legs for our young Plinius.’ He winked as the girl drew near.

  ‘My lord,’ the girl said, bowing her head slightly.

  ‘Ah my good girl, no need for all that. May I ask, what is your name?’ Spartacus noticed that Cassian again used his sickly sweet tone as he always seemed to do, when he was making a deal.

  ‘Chia, my lord.’ The respectful tone was hard to drop. The years of service had taught the girl well but Spartacus noticed a flame in her eyes, this girl was no docile servant.

  ‘May we speak candidly my dear? Plinius, one of my men, has taken a shine to you and I fear his mind is elsewhere when he does his duties. Due to his age I feel that he is slow in his advances towards you. I wondered if it would be possible for you to speed things along? Obviously I mean no offence,’ as he continued in this tone, he placed a number of coin on the wall next to the girl.

  ‘My lord, may I too speak candidly?’ Chia was cool and calm, not at all awed by the position of the man she now faced.

  ‘Why of course dear girl,’ Cassian replied.

  ‘My lord, if I am to be paid to have sex, my talents far exceed the coin you have placed in front of me. But you ask me will I fuck Plinius? Yes I will, and a better man he will be for it. Now I ha
ve duties, may I return to them?’

  ‘Errr, well yes of course,’ Cassian stammered his reply as the girl turned and walked away from them, leaving the coin where it lay. Cassian stared blankly after the girl, until his wits returned.

  ‘I don't think I concluded that deal the way I meant to.’

  ‘I have a feeling that young woman fucks better than you make deals Cassian.’ Spartacus erupted into laughter to be joined by Cassian who was still stunned by being put firmly in his place by a young servant girl.

  The day was coming to an end and Plinius took a stroll in the grounds hoping, at some point, to catch a glimpse of Chia. He ambled along, past the orchard to a small meadow. The night was warm, with just a faint breeze brushing his skin. He had failed in his quest, Chia was nowhere to be seen and he resigned his heavy heart to not seeing her tonight. He turned to leave and, suddenly, there she was standing in front of him. She stood, completely naked. His eyes took in the feast that they beheld. Moving downwards they came to her breasts. They defied gravity, upturned slightly, beautiful orbs topped with pink, erect nipples. His eyes moved further down, taking in the wondrous shape of her hips, the golden colour of her skin and the triangle of dark hair between her legs. Then she was walking towards him and fear took hold of him. He felt the urge to run, it was funny he had faced many dangers on this mission but, here and now, he felt at the most peril and yet totally overwhelmed by the excitement of the moment.

  She kept advancing, the look in her eyes was one of pure devilry. She was in command here, status in life meant nothing, the slave was the master. She took him by the hand and led him to a small area where the grass was long and soft. Her clothes lay to the side and it was clear to Plinius this was one ambush he had failed to avoid, and why would he want to? She removed his tunic and then his loin cloth, his member springing out towards her. She smiled and took it in her hand. Plinius gulped down his excitement, he could hardly believe this was happening. She made him get down, lying on his back the grass sticking into him, prickling his now sensitive skin. She caressed and kissed his body and then straddled him. She reached for his manhood and guided it to where she knew he craved, then began lowering herself gently. She took all of him and then paused, knowing that the feeling was driving him wild. She did not want to rush, the first time was too often rushed but she had the skill to ensure lasting enjoyment. When she felt him relax slightly she began to gently move her hips, manipulating him with her muscles with an expertise which far out stripped her years. The lights of ecstasy exploded within Plinius’ mind. He had never experienced such a thing, and that night the experience would go on and on. She handled him superbly, bringing him back to hardness again and again then finally, when both were exhausted, they lay on the grass holding each other close in a knowing embrace and slept.

  The morning sunrise awoke the sleeping pair, each still entwined in the others grasp. They rose slowly, not wanting to leave the warmth of the other. Chia smiled at the man who lay beside her and he, in turn, gazed back with adoring eyes.

  ‘I must go, I have duties,’ Chia said with reluctance in her voice.

  ‘I will walk with you,’ an eager Plinius replied. For a short time, while they dressed, silence descended, each not knowing what to say. There had been little time for conversation the night before.

  ‘You do not have to walk with me, I am a slave…’ Chia began, but was interrupted by Plinius.

  ‘You're not a slave to me, we could marry.’ Foolish though the statement was it was said with no less conviction.

  ‘Plinius, you are young. You will bed many a slave girl, I knew what I was doing when I came to you last night. There is no debt, I came as all women should come to the man of her choice.’ Chia said the words but her eyes were filled with sadness at the realism of her life.

  ‘Listen Chia, when the mission ends I will be wealthy – I will buy your freedom,’ Plinius said almost a pleading within his voice.

  ‘The thought of such things takes too much cost on a slave's heart Plinius. You must not speak them – any happiness or pleasure a slave receives in this world is fleeting and only serves to remind us of the miserable life we live.’ A tear slid down her cheek when she spoke but the grasp she had on his hand strengthened.

  ‘Will you meet me tonight?’ He asked, wondering if he had hurt her too much with his words.

  ‘I will spend each night in your arms until you leave.’ She spoke quietly, forcing a smile upon her face.

  ‘Then we will talk more of this because, like it or not Chia, I will not allow you to remain a slave as the Gods are my witness.’ He said it with bravado, the confidence of youth streaming back into him. ‘Trust me,’ he pleaded.

  ‘If the time comes Plinius I will gladly go with you, but I will not dwell on such thoughts. I will concentrate on the time I know we have together and hold that time special in my heart when you are gone.’

  They spoke no more but held each other close all the way to the villa. When the time came to part she kissed him gently on the lips and was grateful that he did not try to hide away from the inquisitive eyes of the villa, but instead was proud that she was in his arms.

  ‘Until later my love,’ she whispered in his ear and was gone.

  Plinius watched her go. He marvelled at her beauty, the very movement of her holding him transfixed in time, not daring to look away for things of such beauty rarely lasted and he was afraid she would vanish upon a breeze.

  He eventually joined Spartacus who was sharpening his blade. Plinius noticed how he looked after the weapon.

  ‘Why take so much time? There are plenty of swords, just take a new one when that one becomes blunt.’

  ‘If I can teach you one thing let it be this; all swords have a life and in the end we must choose another, but until that time it is right that we nurture it with love. Its weight and length must become as an extension to our very body. The better we know the blade, the better it will serve us.’ As he spoke he held out his hand, gesturing for Plinius to give up his sword. As he received it he felt the weight and ran his finger down the edge.

  ‘It's a fine sword but you must learn to make it better. While you feel how to improve the blade you will learn how to use it as part of you. Weapon, blade and man will become one, and once you have achieved that you will be a match for most in the arena.’

  Plinius did not speak, he just moved to Spartacus’ side and seated himself, observing how Spartacus manoeuvred the blade to gain the ultimate edge. Not too thin which would blunt too easily and not too thick which would lack significant cutting power to disable an opponent. Spartacus smiled to Plinius as he sat down.

  ‘I thought you would have had enough training with your weapon last night.’ Plinius blushed at his words and smiled taking Spartacus’ words in good humour,

  ‘You can never have too much.’

  Both he and Spartacus laughed as Plinius learned his new craft.

  Chapter 14

  The days passed and, with each of those days, the men became quicker and stronger. The weapons they used became as one with their bodies. Not one man shirked training, often they worked harder than was expected. All of them knew the cost of being found wanting in the arena. The men toiled endlessly in the day and rested well come the night. Plinius joined Chia every night and each night their affection for one another grew. Each night the fear of separation also grew. Although the emotions welled up inside Chia she had promised herself she would not show them to Plinius, she would not be the reason he was not focused on the mission and therefore came to harm.

  Cassian spent more and more time in consultation with Albus, trying and failing to get him to march into Caralis and therefore give the convoy a clear run to the port and Lathyrus who would be waiting to carry them to Utica. On the final night, and close to giving up, Cassian brought Spartacus to the meeting, hoping he could help persuade Albus.

  ‘I have told you Cassian, I cannot march my men down those narrow streets. They wouldn't get half way befor
e being cut apart,’ Albus said defiantly.

  ‘But this convoy needs to reach the docks, we must board the boat,’ Cassian replied, with exasperation.

  ‘If I may, what or who prevents you Albus?’ Spartacus asked in his most calming voice, as it was clear the conversation was about to turn into an argument.

  ‘Even with the numbers of Apelios’ men you killed, he can still throw up to fifty men into the field. Those men, taking shots from behind buildings and using ambush tactics, would soon whittle my small force down to nothing,’ Albus stated, determined not to be swayed from his duty to his men.

  ‘And are there any other men in Caralis who would offer resistance to your men?’ Spartacus pushed this line of questioning, trying to manoeuvre Albus to a position where he would listen to suggestions.

  ‘No. Apelios is scum but he's scum with a big pair of balls,’ Albus replied. ‘No other would raise arms against me.’

  ‘Then the way forward is clear,’ he paused to get full attention. ‘We simply kill the bastard tonight.’ Spartacus smiled. Cassian looked at Spartacus and knew the man was right. It was an old saying but if you cut off the head of the snake the body would wither and die.

  The three stayed a while making final preparations. It would mean a couple of men entering the stronghold of Apelios, dispatching him and leaving before the alarm could be signalled to his men. This task was not easy to achieve and the men agreeing to take on such a task would know that. Even if Apelios was killed then the chance to get clear of his men would be close to impossible.

  Two horsemen made their way from the villa. Dressed in black they were difficult to make out and Albus, watching from the villa walls, soon lost sight of them. He turned and grumbled.

  ‘Crazy bastards…’ And then added, ‘Gods protect you.’ He went to make ready, for in the morning, Albus would once again ride into battle.

  The two horsemen moved slowly, picking their way in the dark, it would not do for a horse to take a fall now.