Before either Titus or his visitors could act, there was a sudden movement to the side of the gate as Aristides stepped forward, clutching his staff in his frail hands.
‘The master told you to leave!’ His voice was thin and reedy, but there was no mistaking the determination in his deep-set eyes below the thick white tufts of hair lining his brow. ‘Get out.’
Thermon blinked in surprise and then let out a roar of laughter. His two men followed suit, laughing nervously as they glanced from Aristides to Titus.
‘Centurion, where on earth did you find this relic?’ Thermon shook his head and quickly sized up Aristides. ‘I doubt we’ll need to count him into the inventory. He’s not worth anything – you’d have to give him away.’
Marcus felt a fiery anger in his heart as the men insulted Aristides. He saw his father’s expression darken. Titus gritted his teeth and growled, ‘My slave is not for sale. And you will do as he says and get off my land.’
Thermon’s humour instantly faded. He drew his sword and turned to nod at his men, and they lowered the points of their spears. Thermon faced Titus again. ‘Your choice, Centurion. Pay up, or else.’
Titus sneered as he drew his own sword and settled into a fighting crouch. ‘I think I’ll choose “or else”.’
Marcus stared anxiously at his father. His limbs trembled. There was no way Titus could win against three men alone. Marcus had to do something.
Just then Aristides launched himself at the nearest of Thermon’s men with a shrill cry, swinging his staff round in an arc. The man turned and held out his spear, blocking the blow with a sharp crack of wood on wood. The goatherd pressed forward, groaning with the effort. Thermon’s man was younger, stronger and used to handling a weapon, and he easily absorbed the charge. He thrust back, sending Aristides flying. With a pained grunt, the goatherd fell on his back. At once his opponent stood over him and drew back his spear, as if to strike.
‘Cerberus! Catch!’ Marcus yelled, and he hurled his vine cane at the man. There was a blur of fur and teeth as the dog leapt forward and jumped for the stick. The dog’s body slammed into the man, bowling him over and making him drop his spear. Aristides rolled aside and staggered to his feet, desperately trying to scramble out of reach before the man could recover.
Meanwhile Titus swept forward with a roar, violently knocking aside a spear thrust from Thermon’s other companion and smashing the heavy brass guard of his sword into the man’s face. His head snapped back and he dropped, out cold.
But before Titus could turn on Thermon, the intruder was already making his attack. His sword thrust straight at Titus’s chest. The centurion swung his own sword round, just parrying the blow in time. The point cut through the air inches from his scalp. At once Thermon pulled his sword arm back and thrust again. This time Titus was not quite quick enough and the blade cut into his own sword arm.
‘Ahh!’ Titus cried out, instinctively slackening his grip.
Thermon seized the advantage and with a ringing blow knocked the sword from Titus’s hand.
Marcus felt an icy fist of terror clench round his heart. Snatching a deep breath, he charged out from the entrance and jumped on to Thermon’s back, wrapping his thin arms around the man’s throat.
‘What in Hades?’ Thermon snarled.
Marcus held on as tight as he could – terrified but determined not to let go. He heard an excited bark, then Cerberus sprang forward, sinking his teeth into Thermon’s sword arm. Caught between the dog and the boy trying to throttle him, Thermon cursed them both furiously through his gritted teeth. He released his grip on the sword and it clattered to the ground.
‘Good boy!’ Titus shouted as he snatched up his sword and went for the man facing Aristides.
‘Look out!’ Thermon grunted.
His companion’s attention was still focused on the old goatherd and so he barely had time to take heed of the warning before Titus swung a cut at his arm, slicing through to the bone. With a shrill cry of agony the man dropped the spear and clutched his arm to his chest. Titus kicked the spear towards Aristides.
‘Take it. If he tries anything, run him through.’
‘Yes, master!’ The goatherd grinned. ‘It’d be a pleasure.’
Titus turned and raised his sword to Thermon’s throat. ‘Let him go, Marcus, and call off the dog.’
Marcus loosened his grip and dropped to the ground, heart beating wildly. He caught his breath and snapped his fingers. ‘Cerberus! Drop!’
Reluctantly the dog loosened his jaws and padded round Thermon, with a parting snarl, before he trotted to Marcus’s side. Marcus was proud of his dog – he patted Cerberus on the head. ‘Good boy.’
Thermon rubbed his throat with his hand. Blood oozed from the tooth marks on his other arm. He stared at Titus with a look of bitter hatred.
Titus smiled. ‘I think you’d better take your men and report back to Decimus. Tell him he’ll have his money in good time. Tell him that if he tries to send any more of his thugs to harass me, then they’ll get the same treatment you have.’
He gestured to the man lying on the ground. ‘Now pick him up and get off my land.’
Thermon and the man with the wounded arm picked their comrade up with some difficulty. With his arms over their shoulders they made their way to the entrance. Thermon paused briefly to glance over his shoulder. ‘Centurion, this isn’t over. Be warned – I’ll be back, with more men. You’ll pay dearly for defying Decimus.’
‘Pah!’ Titus spat on the ground.
Then the unwelcome visitors were gone, and there was only the sound of their boots scraping up the path.
Marcus glanced at his father and Aristides. All three of them were breathing heavily. Suddenly Titus let out a cheer and Marcus joined in, his heart beating fast with relief that they were all unhurt, and also pride that they had beaten their foes. Titus slapped his hand down on Marcus’s shoulder.
‘Well, you’re a chip off your old man’s block and no mistake!’
Marcus looked up at him and beamed with happiness at the praise. ‘And Cerberus too, father. He helped.’
‘He did indeed!’ Titus fondly stroked the dog’s head.
Aristides tossed the spear aside and joined them. Even though the old man was a slave, Titus put his spare arm around him and patted them both on the shoulder. ‘As fine a victory as any I’ve known. Well done, men!’
Marcus and Aristides laughed happily, and Titus joined in, until he noticed a figure standing in the entrance to the house, watching them coldly.
‘I hope you’re pleased with yourself,’ said Livia.
Titus drew himself up defiantly. ‘That I am.’
‘Really? Do you think this is over? I heard him. He says he will be back, with more men.’
Titus waved a hand dismissively. ‘I doubt it. We’ve taught him, and Decimus, a lesson. You’ll see. If he tries anything against a Roman citizen, and a decorated centurion at that, then he knows he’ll catch it in the neck. But if it makes you feel more comfortable, we’ll keep a watch out for them.’
Marcus saw his mother shake her head. She turned away and walked back into the house. Even though his heart burned with pride at having fought at his father’s side, he could not help wondering if she was right. What if Decimus did send more men? They would surely be better prepared to take on his father next time.
‘Well, that was fun!’ Titus grinned. ‘Something worthy of a celebration. Aristides!’
‘Master?’
‘Slaughter your best goat. Tonight we celebrate our victory with a feast!’
Marcus looked up and exchanged a smile with his father. Titus patted his cheek and nodded with satisfaction.
‘My little soldier. You’ll make quite a fighter one day. You’ll see.’
3
Several days after Decimus’s men had been driven off, Marcus and Aristides were sitting on a slab of rock watching over the goats.