Spartacus: Rebellion (35 page)

‘Keep moving,’ muttered Spartacus.

Atheas’ pace picked up.

They found Castus and Gannicus before a pavilion that must have once belonged to a Roman general. A large number of gilt standards had been stabbed into the ground by it, including five silver eagles. Castus was sitting on a log with a half-naked woman kneeling between his open knees. As her head moved up and down, he groaned softly. Gannicus lay on his back nearby, swallowing a stream of wine that fell from a jug held by a dull-eyed, semi-dressed woman. More than a score of armed soldiers lounged about, chatting idly, drinking or fondling yet more fearful-looking girls. A few noticed as the group approached, but they were far too late to prevent what happened next.

‘Cover Gannicus,’ Spartacus hissed at the Scythians. ‘When you see me act, pour the whole jug over the bastard.’

With evil expressions, Atheas and Taxacis stole off.

‘Carbo, you stay with me.’ He strode right up to the woman who was pleasuring Castus.

Carbo stared at the Gaul with disgust.
He fucks in public, like an animal.

Castus’ eyes were still closed with pleasure when Spartacus gave the woman a hefty kick in the arse. She fell forward and made a horrible choking sound. With a roar of pain, Castus shoved her away. She lurched to one side, gagging.

Spartacus’ gladius flashed into his hand.

Fifteen paces away, Atheas grabbed the jug from Gannicus’ woman and emptied it over his head. There was an indignant roar, but when the Gaul saw who was crouched over him, he didn’t resist. He lay there, shouting. ‘You mad barbarian bastards! I’ll have you strangled with your own guts for this!’

‘You!’ Castus had sprung up, his face the picture of shock.

Now there was no doubt in Spartacus’ mind. White-hot rage splintered his vision for an instant.

Castus’ eyes darted towards the sword that lay at his feet.

‘Go on, limp prick!’ roared Spartacus. ‘Pick it up.’

‘My men will cut you to pieces!’

‘They can try, but you’ll never see what happens, because you’ll be dead before your fingers close on the hilt.’ Spartacus glared at the Gaul, daring him to move.

Castus licked his lips, and didn’t budge.

Carbo had never heard such anger in his leader’s voice. Castus had heard it too. He knew if he reacted, he would die. Then the Scythians would kill Gannicus, and the surrounding warriors would fall upon them. Carbo gripped his own gladius with white knuckles.
Great Jupiter, let me die well.

Spartacus’ rage eased a fraction. ‘Can you see me, Gannicus, or are your eyes still stinging?’

The Gaul lifted his head. ‘I can see you,’ he growled.

‘Are you as surprised to see me as your friend here?’

‘I suppose. We didn’t know when you’d come back. There’s been no word.’

‘You’re a bad liar, Gannicus. That and the disbelief on Castus’ face when he saw me are all the evidence I need. You both thought I was dead, eh?’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ blustered Castus, awkwardly tugging up his trousers.

‘Shut your filthy mouth, you,’ snapped Spartacus. ‘Understand that the only reason you’re both not choking to death on your own blood is that it’s still in all of our interests to stay together.’

‘What are you talking about?’ demanded Gannicus.

‘Ten damn legions is what I’m talking about! Ten legions which will march south before winter. That’s what I found out in Rome. Do you fancy fighting them without my men?’

His words were met with a shocked silence.

‘I didn’t think so. Maybe from now on you could spend more time finding new recruits and training them up instead of behaving as if you’re at an orgy.’

Again neither Gaul replied.

Spartacus stared at both men, flinty-eyed.
They heard what I said. That’s enough. There’s no point mentioning Sicily yet.
‘One more thing. If either of you ever tries to harm me or my family again, I will not rest until you’ve been carved into a thousand pieces of meat. Do you understand?’

Gannicus nodded. Castus was too slow for Spartacus’ liking, so he jabbed his sword at the ruddy-haired Gaul, forcing him to jump backwards. ‘Do you fucking UNDERSTAND?’

‘Yes,’ Castus muttered.

‘Excellent.’ With a contemptuous look, Spartacus stepped away. ‘Atheas! Taxacis. We’re leaving.’

The Scythians moved away from Gannicus, who sat up, his face purple with rage.

A number of the Gauls’ men began to move towards them. Carbo tensed.

‘If I don’t return soon, Egbeo and Pulcher have orders to mobilise every soldier in the camp before coming here to look for me. You can choose whether that happens or not,’ said Spartacus loudly. ‘It doesn’t matter to me.’

Castus aimed an uncertain glance at Gannicus. ‘He’s lying.’

‘How would you know?’ retorted Gannicus. ‘Stay where you are,’ he ordered, and the warriors halted.

The four walked backwards until they were some thirty paces from the Gauls. ‘Good work,’ said Spartacus. He would have to watch his back from now on, but he doubted that there would be any more attempts on his life – from the Gauls at least. How long Castus and Gannicus would stay with the army was by no means certain, but for now they had learned their lesson. He could focus on searching out new recruits and finding pirates who could transport them to Sicily.

Both Scythians had broad grins plastered on their faces. So did Carbo. ‘A convincing lie just there.’

Spartacus winked. ‘Time to see my son.’
My son!

Chapter XII

LEAVING CARBO OUTSIDE
with the Scythians, Spartacus ducked inside the tent. His eyes adjusted fast to the dim light, and he was pleased with what he saw. Someone – Egbeo or Pulcher, he supposed – had taken care to decorate it well. There were thick rugs on the floor, a number of large bronze lamps, two ebony chests and a rosewood table and chairs. However, his attention moved rapidly to the unmade bedding along one wall, and the hand-carved wooden cot that stood nearby. He craned his neck, but couldn’t see into it. Ariadne was by the crib, her back towards him. She was quietly singing.

Spartacus padded further inside, but he didn’t interrupt. The tranquil scene was so at odds with the one he’d just left, with what had happened since he’d left for Rome, that he needed a moment to return to normality. To return to his
family
. For in the time that he had been absent, that is what they had become.

An aching joy began to replace the fury he’d felt towards the Gauls. Ariadne was well, and so too was his son. Maron.
You will never be forgotten, my brother.

Ariadne’s song came to an end. She bent over the cot and planted a soft kiss on the baby’s head before she turned to Spartacus. Her face was cold. ‘Thank you for not making any noise,’ she said in a flat tone.

‘You heard me come in.’

‘Yes. I heard you arrive a while ago too – and then leave without seeing your wife and your newborn son. To talk with Castus and Gannicus.’ She had to make an effort to lower her voice. ‘How could you?’

He took a step towards her. ‘Ariadne, I—’

‘Don’t,’ she interrupted, boiling with fury. ‘Don’t even speak to me! Take a look at Maron. You owe him that much at least.’

Clenching his jaw, Spartacus moved to the cot and peered in. The sight that met his eyes instantly made his anger disappear. A little black-haired shape, lying on its front, swaddled in a blanket. Side-on, a tiny, scrunched-up face with a button nose. His heart swelled with love and pride. ‘He’s so small.’

‘Maron is big for a boy, the midwife says. He’s put on a lot of weight since he was born too.’

Spartacus nodded. He knew next to nothing about babies. He stared at his son, wanting to touch him but wary of waking him or doing the wrong thing.

Ariadne read his mind. ‘For now, just rub his head or his back. You can pick him up once he’s had his nap.’

Reassured, Spartacus reached into the cot and stroked the soft skin of Maron’s cheek. A huge grin split his face at the touch; he gently repeated it. ‘Welcome to the world, my son,’ he whispered. ‘It is good to meet you at last.’

Maron twitched, startling him. He lifted his arm.

‘It’s all right, you haven’t woken him.’

Spartacus put his hand back into the cot. ‘He’s got your hair.’

‘And your eyes. Although the midwife says that they might still change colour.’

‘I don’t mind. The main thing is that he’s here safely, and that you are well.’

‘You’ve seen that that’s the case. Do you need to leave again?’

‘No, of course not.’ Her lips twitched, and he saw that while she was talking, she was still furious. ‘Maron is a fine name. I couldn’t have thought of a better one myself. No doubt my brother is watching from the warrior’s paradise. He’ll be very proud. My father will also.’

‘It’s nothing.’

‘No, it means a lot, Ariadne. To me as well as to the dead. Thank you.’

She didn’t answer.

Spartacus had no desire for their argument to continue. Here at least, with his family, he wanted respite from conflict. ‘I
did
want to come in and see you both the moment I arrived. How can you doubt that?’

Her eyes searched his accusingly. ‘You’ve chosen your army over your family before. That I have forced myself to accept – almost – but to go and speak first with those
pigs
Castus and Gannicus? What kind of man are you?’

He was stung – and angered – by her comment. ‘You don’t understand!’

‘No, of course I don’t. I’m only a woman, eh?’ Maron stirred, and she frowned. ‘Step away, or we’ll wake him. He needs sleep. He had a restless night.’

Spartacus’ instant concern overrode his anger. ‘Is he ill?’

She gave him a withering look. ‘No. He’s just got a bit of colic.’

‘Colic? Like a horse gets?’

‘Yes, but not as serious. All babies get it from time to time. The midwife made up some fennel water this morning, and that has helped a lot.’

‘I took some of that once when I had bad gut cramp. It made me fart like my damn stallion!’ She didn’t smile at his joke. They stood in silence for a moment, and then he tried again. ‘I wanted to see you both, but I had to deal with something first.’

‘What could be more important than seeing your son?’ she hissed. ‘Did you want to boast to the Gauls about what you’d done, or found out?’

His irritation overflowed. ‘Be quiet, woman, and let me speak!’

Ariadne’s lips thinned, but she held her peace.

‘I’ll tell you what happened in Rome later. It’s important, but it’s not the reason that I didn’t come in here first.’

‘You’re not making any sense.’

‘Two nights ago, we were attacked in our camp by a group of men. If Carbo hadn’t heard them coming, we would both have been killed.’

Ariadne heard the truth in his words. Terrible images filled her mind. Remorse tore at her for being so presumptuous. ‘How did you get away?’

‘By running for our lives.’ Wryly, he indicated the rips in his tunic and the scratches on his arms and legs. ‘I’ve barely eaten or drunk since it happened. Not that I care. What mattered was getting back here, first to make sure that you hadn’t already been murdered, and second, to confront Castus and Gannicus.’

‘They were behind this? How do you know that the killers weren’t Roman?’

‘One of them spoke. Carbo said that he wasn’t a native Latin speaker. Besides, we had got out of Rome without difficulty. No one had followed us.’

‘So if it wasn’t Romans,’ she said, frowning, ‘it had to be someone who knew where you’d gone.’

‘That’s right. And there might be plenty of men in the army who aren’t fond of me, but Castus and Gannicus had to be the most likely candidates to want me dead.’

Thinking of the Gauls’ visit to her, Ariadne shuddered. Perhaps she had been more lucky than she’d realised. ‘Have you killed them?’

‘No.’

‘Why the hell not?’ she demanded. ‘It’s no less than they deserve! Maron and I would have been next.’

‘Quite likely.’ He was starting to enjoy her anger a little. It showed that she still cared about him. ‘But murdering them would be counterproductive.’ He filled her in on Crassus’ plans, and on what they’d heard from the messenger on the road.

‘Ten legions,’ said Ariadne in a monotone. She felt numb. ‘They’ll be here in three or four months, you say.’

‘Now you see why I didn’t get rid of the Gauls. If they left, we’d barely outnumber the Romans, and that’s not odds any general would want to start a battle with.’

‘I know. So what did you do to Castus and Gannicus?’

‘We surprised them. The savages got the shock of their lives to see me appear. The look on Castus’ face told me all I wanted to know. He and Gannicus sent those men.’

‘The treacherous dogs!’ Ariadne’s eyes flashed dangerously, and Spartacus was reminded of a wild beast defending its young. ‘Now that they know about the ten legions, will they stay?’

‘Who knows? Let’s hope so. Until we can recruit and train more men at least.’
It’s going to be a race against time to do that while trying to move the army and organise transport to Sicily.

She still wasn’t happy. ‘How do you know that they won’t make another attempt?’

‘I don’t. But they know damn well what will happen if they try. Prometheus’ pain will be as nothing to what they endure.’

‘I’d like to watch them scream,’ she spat. ‘I’d even wield the knife.’

‘Quite the lioness, aren’t you?’ He touched her cheek, and was astonished by her reaction.

Her coldness melted, and tears formed in her eyes. ‘Thank the gods for Carbo,’ she whispered. ‘Thank them for concealing you as you ran, and for bringing you back safely.’

Spartacus opened his arms, and she stepped into his embrace. He held her very tight.

‘I’ve missed you so much.’ Ariadne thought of the road lined with crosses, and did her best to shove the brutal image away. ‘I thought you might never return.’

‘It wasn’t that bad,’ he lied, glad at that moment that she could not see his face. ‘Not like fighting a battle. And I’m back now, with you and Maron.’

She looked up at him, pulling a smile. ‘So it was worth going?’