The Parthian (48 page)

As we rode into the Thracian camp columns of soldiers were marching out, rank upon rank of men carrying shields, javelins and wearing mail shirts and helmets. Marching out for another day’s relentless drill practice. Train hard, fight easy; learn drills and commands until they become second nature, until you can carry them out them without thinking, even do them in your sleep. Warfare is thus reduced to its most basic and simple: long periods of boredom interspersed with shorter periods of organised terror. 

The council gathered in Spartacus’ tent as usual, though when we entered there was an air of gloom hanging over the gathering. Spartacus sat resting his chin on his right arm, Akmon fidgeted with his cup and Castus was shaking his head. Crixus looked defiant. 

Spartacus nodded at me then looked at Crixus. ‘Crixus, perhaps you would like to tell Pacorus your news, I’m sure he will be interested.’

‘Why?’ growled the Gaul. ‘I’ve told everyone who’s important.’

‘Crixus and his Gauls are leaving the army,’ said Spartacus to me. My heart leapt and I struggled to suppress a smile. 

‘Madness,’ added Akmon, ‘sheer madness.’

‘I speak for my people,’ said Crixus, ‘and their desire is for us to leave this place.’

‘And go where, Crixus? asked Spartacus. ‘We march north to get out of Italy, but where will you march to? Have you forgotten about the Romans, for it is certain that they have not forgotten about you.’

‘We, and I, have no desire to go back to Gaul,’ said Crixus, angrily. ‘It is under the heel of Rome so why should we fight to get back to a place that is full of Roman soldiers?’

‘There are other places,’ said Castus.

‘What, Germany?’ retorted Crixus, ‘a land of damp, dark forests. I would rather live in the sun. We will stay in Italy.’

Everyone save Crixus and Dumnorix, his ragged-haired second-in-command, were stunned.

‘Italy! You are truly insane,’ said Spartacus, holding out his arms in a gesture of exasperation.

Crixus jumped up. ‘Who are you to say what we can or cannot do?’

I suspected that we were approaching the real reason for the Gauls’ decision. ‘You talk a lot about freedom, about every man being free to follow his own conscience. But when it comes to it, we are mere subjects for you to order about. We have sat here for months doing nothing when we could have been conquering land and killing Romans. You have become like a king, Spartacus.’ He pointed at me. ‘You even surround yourself with princes. Well, I say no more, and so do my people.’

He sat back down and there was an awkward silence. Eventually Spartacus spoke.

‘If you stay in Italy you will die, Crixus. That much is certain.’

Crixus laughed. ‘All death is certain. That’s what I was told at the
ludus
, and I survived that. We can destroy anything they send against us.’

Clearly there was no telling Crixus anything and so Spartacus gave up. I certainly was not going to attempt to dissuade him. 

‘Akmon,’ said Spartacus. ‘Please give us a summary of the army’s condition.’

Akmon unrolled a scroll placed on the table in front of him and read it aloud.

‘We have fully trained twenty thousand Thracians, ten thousand Germans, four thousand Spaniards, three thousand cavalry and fourteen thousand Gauls, soon to depart from us. Concerning weapons and armour, fully four-fifths of the soldiers have weapons, shields and armour. The rest either have no armour or a helmet only, but all have a weapon of some description.’

‘Are all your cavalry fully armed, Pacorus?’ asked Spartacus.

‘All are armed, lord, but a third are without helmets or mail shirts.’

‘Does that include the women?’ sneered Crixus, prompting Dumnorix to snigger beside him.

‘Mock all you want,’ I replied, ‘I am glad to have them fighting with me.’

‘Enough,’ snapped Spartacus. ‘Crixus, you and your men will leave in two days. I see no reason for you to stay if you desire to leave.’

Crixus rose from his chair and bowed. ‘As your majesty desires,’ then walked out of the tent. That was the last time I saw him alive. Dumnorix followed him and when they had left I stretched myself out in the chair and sighed deeply. ‘Alas for Crixus.’

‘I thought
you
would be pleased,’ said Spartacus.

‘We’ve just lost a quarter of the army,’ said Godarz, dejectedly.

‘And good fighters,’ added Akmon.

‘Is there anyone else who wishes to follow Crixus?’ Spartacus looked at each of us in turn. No one spoke. 

‘Very well. We will be departing in two weeks’ time. We will burn all we cannot take with us. Akmon, see to it that the mine is destroyed.’

‘What about the Romans who are working in it?’ asked his subordinate.

Spartacus shrugged. ‘Break each man’s right arm and then let them go.’

‘You’re not going to kill them?’ Castus looked surprised.

‘Have no fear, Castus,’ replied Spartacus, ‘you’ll soon have enough Romans to keep you busy. When we march we will strike east then north, along the east coast of Italy. We will have the Apennine Mountains between us and Rome, which will give us time.’

‘What garrisons are we likely to encounter?’ said Castus.

‘I do not know,’ replied Spartacus, ‘but town garrisons won’t be able to stop us. I’m more worried about the legions that will be sent after us. Some are probably marching south at this moment.’

‘I have had scouts out as far as Metapontum, lord,’ I said, ‘and they have seen no Romans.’

‘They’ll be coming from Rome, down the west-coast road,’ mused Spartacus, ‘the same road we used to get here. That’s why I want to go east. But keep your scouts out, Pacorus, we don’t want any nasty surprises.’

‘We’ve already had one nasty surprise,’ grumbled Akmon. ‘losing a quarter of the army .’

Spartacus rose from his chair. ‘There’s no point in worrying over what we cannot change. If Crixus and his men want to get themselves killed, so be it, and while the Romans are busy fighting him we might have a chance to hasten our escape out of this country.’

‘You would see him be destroyed?’ asked Godarz.

‘Why not? By leaving us he would see us destroyed. Let me tell you something, all of you. We can keep on defeating the Romans but they will keep on sending armies against us. If we are defeated once, we are destroyed. And as long as we are in Italy the Romans will dispatch legion after legion until we are exterminated. That is what Crixus does not realise, and that is why he will fail. If we leave Italy we have a chance of staying alive. Tell your men that, all of you.’

The meeting ended on a somewhat sombre note, but I have to confess that I was very happy to be rid of Crixus. What did it matter if there were no Gauls with the army? They were an undisciplined rabble fit only for butchering innocent people. No wonder the Romans had conquered them. Then I thought about Gallia. But obviously she was not like Crixus at all. Clearly not all Gauls were brutes, but even so I was glad to see the back of them. Godarz was somewhat downcast, though both Nergal and Burebista were their usual ebullient selves. I would show Spartacus and the army what properly trained cavalry could do, and would more than recompense him for the loss of a few thousand Gauls. As my mood soared I started to hum to myself, which drew perplexed stares from my fellow riders. Later that day, in the late afternoon following archery training, I walked with Gallia along a stream that ran through a wood filled with tall birch trees. We led our horses, Remus and Gallia’s chestnut mare that she had named Epona, after the Gallic goddess of horses.

‘You are pleased Crixus is leaving us?’

‘Ecstatic.’

‘You dislike him, don’t you?’

‘I think it is more a case of him disliking me,’ I said.

‘He can be prickly.’

‘That’s putting it mildly.’

‘I think he’s lonely,’ said reflected.

‘Lonely?’ I was astounded. ‘We are talking about the same Crixus, I assume?’

‘He wants a good woman like Claudia.’

‘Or you,’ I said, mischievously. She slapped my arm.

‘Be serious. Because he is a fighter everyone expects him to be cruel and vicious, but he was always good to me in the
ludus
, and was the first to spring to my defence when I was struck.’

Anger grew within me at the thought of someone striking her. ‘I thought it was Spartacus who defended you.’

‘It was Spartacus who defended his wife and it was Crixus who stopped me from being hurt.’ She sighed. ‘It seems another life away now.’

‘A better life now, I hope,’ I said, slipping my hand in hers.

She turned and smiled. ‘Yes. But you should not be too hard on Crixus. He was born with nothing and has had to fight all of his life. He was not born a prince like you.’

‘Or a princess like you,’ I retorted.

‘We have no say in the circumstances of our birth, Pacorus, only how we live our lives.’

Crixus and his Gauls left army and we followed them ten days later. Everything that could not be carried was burned. Log shelters, sheds, cattle and pig pens, foundries, stable blocks, everything. The palisade that had been erected on the earth rampart to surround Thurri was also torched, along with the wood buildings at the silver mine. The mine itself was allowed to flood, though we had little doubt that the Romans would get it working again as the seams were too rich to be allowed to lie undisturbed. The cattle and oxen would accompany the army on the march, the oxen to pull the heavy carts, the cattle to provide milk, then food, and finally leather. The pigs were slaughtered before the journey, the pork being salted down for rations for the march. The pathetic squeals of the pigs filled the air for days as they were herded together and slaughtered. Spartacus gave orders for everyone to gorge themselves on the abundant food supplies we had, for we could not take fruit or vegetables with us as they would decay very quickly, and once on the march food would be strictly rationed. We would take supplies wherever we found them, but it was better to start out well-fed and thus able to shed a few pounds if conditions got worse. Godarz hardly slept during this period, as it was his task to allocate rations to the various contingents. Working with a score of clerks, he ensured that each century had its allotted portions of grain, olive oil, bacon, lard, salt and cheese. Akmon’s camp was dismantled and its wooden palisade distributed among the Thracians and the tents loaded onto carts. We had no shortage of the latter, having defeated a Roman army and looted two cities and one town.

Our plan of campaign was simple enough: a march along the coast to Metapontum and then a journey to northern Italy along its eastern coast, keeping the Apennine Mountains, which ran through the centre of the whole country, between us and Rome and hopefully any Roman armies sent south against us. Having reached the north of the country, we would cross another chain of mountains, the Alps, and then head for our homelands. I had asked Spartacus if the Alps were high and he told me that they were, but that Hannibal had crossed then to bring his army into Italy over a hundred years before. ‘If he can do it, so can we.’ And so it was that on a warm spring day, the army began its march.

It took most of the morning for the army to form into the column of march we would use to travel through Italy. The first part of the army, who would be far ahead of the main boy of troops, were Byrd’s scouts, who left their camp before dawn and rode far and wide to be our eyes and ears. Operating in groups of no more than half a dozen, they checked the roads, woodlands and hills for signs of the enemy and possible ambush sites. Next came two companies of horse archers as a covering force, who could either reinforce any scouts that encountered trouble, or fight off an enemy long enough for the army to be alerted and give it time to deploy in battle order. Two more companies of horse archers were also deployed as flank guards for the army’s baggage train, which consisted of hundreds of wagons that carried everything we needed to exist as a fighting force, its tents, tools, spare weapons, food and other supplies. Behind the baggage train marched Spartacus, Claudia, Akmon and various messengers and Godarz’s clerks. Godarz himself walked alongside Spartacus, and I think he liked his position of quartermaster general as it was a role of great importance, and after many years of being a slave the experience of being asked for his opinion as an equal was both novel and invigorating. Behind the general’s entourage came the foot soldiers, marching along at a leisurely pace six abreast, preceded by their trumpeters, standards and flags, with each national contingent followed by its own mules carrying personal baggage and tents. Then came my cavalry, those that were not undertaking scouting and flank duties. The men walked beside their horses, usually three abreast, with the carts carrying supplies for both men and horses. The cavalry’s supply train included two hundred mules that were loaded with spare arrows, for my father had always impressed upon me the necessity of having an abundant supply of ammunition. The rearguard, made up of two companies of horse archers, was the last part of the army, which stretched out for nearly ten miles and covered around twenty miles a day.

At first I rode with the covering force, but as the days passed and we encountered no resistance I marched alternately with Spartacus and my cavalry. Gallia’s unit of women I ordered to march with Spartacus, as it would be company for Claudia and if we were attacked she would be in the best-protected position. Each night the Thracians, Spaniards and Germans erected a huge Roman camp and locked themselves inside, but I deployed my cavalry in dozens of separate camps around these locations. I insisted that Gallia and her company stayed in the main camp each night with Spartacus and Claudia, and on occasion I would also eat with my general.

After nearly a month of marching we had passed through Lucania, Puglia, Samniun and were just entering the province of Picenum. As the spring was reaching its height the weather was getting hotter, and the feet of nearly forty thousand soldiers and an equal number of animals kicked up a fine dust that covered us all and got into our throats. Picenum was a wild place, with silent valleys, wild mountain plains and a coastal plain that hugged the blue waters of the Adriatic. There were many herds of sheep in this region and consequently we gained many new recruits, hardy shepherds who brought their flocks and also their women, so soon the army had a sizeable contingent of females in the army. Claudia and Gallia were delighted, but Akmon did nothing but grumble about it.