Spartacus: The Gladiator (5 page)

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Authors: Ben Kane

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical

BOOK: Spartacus: The Gladiator
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He called out a low greeting to a bunch of warriors who were standing nearby. Ariadne recognised three of them: Getas, Seuthes and Medokos. Hearing the other’s voice, Getas turned his head. He frowned, and then with delighted looks, he and his companions descended on the newcomer.

So that’s the traveller whom Berisades met, thought Ariadne. He must be well liked if they have not forgotten him in his absence. She kept walking. Reaching home was more important than staring at strangers. Perhaps Dionysus would visit her that night. Give her some hope. She consoled herself with that idea. A moment later, she heard a characteristic, braying laugh coming from inside the alleyway. Recognising Polles by the sound, Ariadne reacted without thinking. She quickly angled away from the alley’s entrance to approach it from the side. Poking her head around the corner, she saw the outline of at least three men a short distance inside. Their slouching posture was at direct odds with the naked weapons in their hands. Feeling very weary, Ariadne sagged against the house’s cold wattle and daub. Kotys was being true to his word. The bodyguards were there to abduct her.
Curse him!
Creeping around them to reach her hut by another route would merely delay the inevitable. In that instant, the helplessness that Ariadne had felt when her father was about to assault her sexually returned. It sat in her belly as if it had never been absent, an acid pool of nausea and self-loathing.

Her indecision seemed to last an eternity, but in reality was no more than a few heartbeats. Unsure of where to go, Ariadne stumbled across the central space. It was then that she saw a second party of warriors heading towards her from the temple. Ducking her head in a pathetic attempt not to be seen, she changed direction. There was only one way to go. To the main gate. It didn’t matter that it was bitterly cold, snowing, or that it was dangerous beyond the village walls. She had to get away from Kotys, and it didn’t matter how.

‘Priestess!’ a voice called behind her.

A sob escaped Ariadne’s lips, and she quickened her pace. All she had to do was reach the entrance. The guards outside wouldn’t dare to stop her and the impending snowstorm would swallow her up as surely as the underworld. What she was doing was madness, but in that exact moment, Ariadne didn’t care. Death was better than experiencing again what she’d endured as a child. She glanced over her shoulder and was pleased to see that the warriors were too far away to prevent her from escaping. With few other people about, this one tiny victory would not be denied her.

Totally absorbed, Ariadne wasn’t looking where she was going. With a thump, she collided with someone. It was only the other’s strong arm that prevented her from falling flat on her back. She looked up to find a pair of amused grey eyes regarding her. It was the man who’d just arrived with the lame stallion. Ariadne blinked. This close, he was quite handsome.

‘My apologies. I don’t usually make it my business to knock over attractive women.’

‘N-no, it was my fault,’ she faltered.

Noticing the tattoos and red cloak which marked her station, he released his grip. ‘I’m sorry, priestess, I meant no disrespect. Why the hurry?’

‘I—’ Ariadne glanced back. The warriors were less than twenty paces away. ‘I have to go. Leave the village.’

‘In this weather, priestess?’ He looked alarmed. ‘You’ll catch your death. If not, the wolves will have you.’

‘That’s as maybe,’ muttered Ariadne, ‘but I’m going nonetheless.’ She made to move past.

He threw out his arm, stopping her. ‘What have you done?’ he asked, nodding his head at the approaching group.

‘Done? Nothing!’ She laughed bitterly and tried again to walk on, but his arm was immovable, like a bar of iron. Ariadne didn’t have the strength – or will – to push against it.

‘Something tells me that lot aren’t coming to discuss the weather. Who are they?’

‘Kotys’ men,’ she replied flatly.

‘Kotys?’
I haven’t thought of the prick for years, but now his name is falling from everyone’s lips
.

‘The king.’

His lip curled. ‘The
king
. You’ve crossed him, I take it?’

‘Does refusing to go to his bed count as crossing him?’ she spat back. ‘If it does, then yes, that’s what I’ve done. Now let me go.’

He lowered his arm. ‘So they’re coming to take you to Kotys, but you won’t have it?’

‘Yes. I’ll die before I let that bastard rape me.’ Ariadne stared into his eyes, and was surprised by what she saw. As well as anger, there was admiration. And hate – but not for her.

‘Don’t move.’ Dropping the horse’s lead rope, he stepped in front of her.

‘What are you doing?’ she stammered.

‘Men might act like that in war, but not in peacetime, in my fucking village,’ he barked. ‘I thought I’d left all that behind me.’
I thought I could come home without discovering that my father had been murdered by a man he once called friend
.

Ariadne watched, petrified, as the warriors arrived, four well-armed warriors with hawkish expressions and a purposeful manner. ‘Well met,’ called the first. ‘We’re in your debt for stopping that woman.’

‘I didn’t stop her,’ he replied harshly. ‘We collided and I prevented her from falling.’

‘It’s of no matter how you did it.’ Revealing rows of rotten teeth, the warrior’s leer was more snarl than smile. ‘She’d have escaped but for you. We’re grateful. Now step aside.’

‘Why? What’s she done?’

‘None of your damn business,’ growled the warrior.

‘She’s a priestess. Hardly a common criminal. Not the type of person to manhandle either, unless you want to anger a god. Don’t you agree?’ His voice was low but menacing.

The warrior blinked in surprise. ‘Look, friend, we’re just following orders. The king wants to see her. So do us a favour and piss off, eh?’

He looked back at Ariadne. ‘Do you want to go with these men?’

‘You don’t have to do this,’ she whispered, not quite believing her eyes and ears.

He didn’t acknowledge what she’d said. ‘Yes or no?’

Ariadne looked at the quartet of bodyguards and shuddered.

‘Well?’

‘No,’ she heard herself say. Instantly, guilt tore at her.
Why have you involved him too?

He shrugged carelessly. ‘You heard. She’s not going.’

‘What’s your name, fool?’ hissed the lead warrior, raising his spear. ‘I like to know the name of a man before I kill him.’

He ignored the demand. Drawing his sword, he pointed it straight at the man’s face. ‘Ready to die? Because that’s what is going to happen next.’

Even in the poor light, it was possible to see the warrior turn pale. He glanced at his companions, who also looked far from happy.

‘Shall we get this over with?’ he snarled, taking a step towards them.

Ariadne couldn’t believe her eyes. The bodyguard’s confidence shrank like a bladder pricked with a knife. ‘We’ve got no quarrel with you,’ he mumbled.

‘Nor I with you, but I’m not about to see you seize a priestess without good explanation,’ he snapped, continuing to advance. ‘It was my understanding that we held such people in great veneration. That we didn’t treat them like runaway slaves.’

Lifting his spear point into the air, the warrior backed away. His companions did the same. ‘This isn’t going to end here,’ muttered the first man.

‘I’d be disappointed if it was.’ He watched as they vanished into the gloom.

‘I wish you hadn’t done that. You’ve as good as signed your own death warrant,’ Ariadne said coldly, disregarding the amazement she felt at the warriors’ about-turn.

‘A simple thank you would suffice,’ he replied in a mild voice.

‘I don’t want another’s death on my conscience!’ she said, colouring.

‘My fate is mine to decide, not yours,’ he growled. ‘What kind of a man would I be if I just let a group of thugs carry off a priestess?’
It was a rash move, all the time. Thank the Rider that none of them recognised me
.

‘A wise one,’ she snapped.

‘Got quite the temper, haven’t you? Seeing as you don’t want my help, I’ll leave you to it. The gate’s still open.’ He picked up the lead rope and clicked his tongue at his horse. ‘Come on. Let’s get you stabling and some food. And better company, if we can find it.’

‘Wait,’ said Ariadne, hating her fear, which had resurged at the prospect of him leaving.

He raised an eyebrow, which made him even more attractive.

‘It was noble of you to intervene. Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome. Was there anything else?’ He made to move off again.

‘The king’s men won’t leave it at that, you know. They act as they please.’

‘I can tell. But they’ll have to find me first. The settlement is a big place to search for one man.’ He nodded in farewell.

‘Stay for a moment,’ asked Ariadne. Walking out into the night now seemed utterly terrifying. So too did waiting for Kotys’ warriors, alone.

‘I was going to until you decided to be rude.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she replied, her voice catching. ‘I didn’t want to see you hurt, that’s all.’

‘Your concern is endearing,’ he said in a gentler tone, ‘but let me worry about things like that.’

‘Very well.’ Ariadne felt embarrassed, but she continued regardless. ‘Please accompany me home. I have a small shed where you could stable your horse.’

‘Is it far?’ He gestured at the stallion. ‘As you’ve probably seen, he’s lame.’

‘It’s no more than a couple of hundred paces. Follow me.’ With her heart thumping in her chest, Ariadne led the way. By now, it was completely dark and the alleys had emptied of people. Only the occasional dog skittered by, giving them a wide berth. She caught him checking every shadow, and was relieved when he eventually relaxed a little.

Ariadne was also pleased to see no lurking shapes near her house. Polles and his men were still in the alleyway or, more likely, had returned with their cheated comrades to the king. Filling a bucket of water from the nearby well, she left him settling the horse in the lean-to. She hurried inside, noticing as she lit an oil lamp that her hands were shaking. Trying to regain her composure, she sat down on the three-legged stool. Had her situation improved in any way? In reality, she had just exchanged one set of dangers for another. He might be a fearsome warrior, but he couldn’t fight all of Kotys’ men and expect to win. Despite her pessimism, Ariadne could not deny the spark of pleasure that glowed in her heart. He had been under no obligation to step in. Most sane men would have turned the other way when they’d seen the king’s bodyguards. Instead, at the risk of his own life, he had saved her. Weirdly, Ariadne felt a trace of hope. He had to know the odds that they faced, yet he remained calm, even unperturbed. That meant he must have a plan.

She smiled as he entered, barring the door behind him. ‘Is your horse fed and watered?’

‘He is,’ he replied, looking satisfied.

‘You care for him greatly.’

‘I do. He’s been under me, or by my side, through more than five years of constant war.’

‘That’s a long time to be fighting.’

‘It is. That’s why I came home. To hang up my sword and settle down for a while. Instead, I’ve done the complete opposite.’ His lips twisted wryly. ‘To be honest, I’m not that surprised. The Rider has a habit of doing this to me. And he knows best.’

‘Nonetheless, I’m sorry,’ said Ariadne, feeling even worse.

‘We’ve covered this ground already,’ he said in a reproving voice. ‘It was my decision to intervene.’
My decision to enter the village, even when I was recognised
.

‘It was,’ she acknowledged. Then, ‘I don’t even know your name.’

‘Nor I yours,’ he replied, smiling.

‘Ariadne.’ She couldn’t stop her cheeks from burning as she spoke.

‘It’s an honour to meet you. I am Spartacus.’

She frowned. The name rang a bell in her head, but she didn’t know why. ‘How long have you been away exactly?’

‘Eight years, give or take. You’ve not been here that long.’

‘No. Six months.’

‘When did Kotys start bothering you?’

‘Practically from the first moment I got here. I’ve managed to fend him off thus far, but today, for whatever reason, he had had enough. Ostensibly, I was to dine with him, but it was just a façade. For him to—’

‘I can imagine,’ he interjected. ‘I knew that the whoreson was a murderer, but a rapist too? The world will be a better place when he’s gone.’
And if the Rider wills it, my blade will end his stinking life
.

‘So the rumours are true then?’

‘Oh yes,’ he replied bitterly. ‘When Rhesus, the last king died, Kotys had his son and heir slain. Sitalkes, my father, must have tried to intervene, because he was killed too.’

‘Your father, murdered?’ Ariadne’s heart went out to him. ‘How did you find this out?’

‘I met a boy tending stock not half a mile from the front gate. It was easy enough to persuade him to talk. I wasn’t sure whether to believe it all, but one of the guards was an old comrade of my father’s. He confirmed the story. So did the friends I spoke to briefly.’

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