Lupus smiled. ‘Sleep. Just what I want. Can’t tell you how exhausted I am.’
He reached for his cloak and pulled it over his body, then curled up with his back to the fire. His breathing soon became deep and even. Marcus and Festus sat in silence for a while as the fire began to die down and cast a wavering glow across the trees round the clearing. At length Marcus sighed, then spoke quietly.
‘I wonder how Caesar’s campaign is going?’
Festus shrugged. ‘It’s early days. Last I heard he was dealing with some tribes from Helvetia who wanted to settle in Gaul. You can be sure he’ll make short work of them.’
There was a certain bitterness to his tone that caught Marcus’s ear. He thought quickly, and wondered if Festus resented being ordered to help him. Marcus cleared his throat. ‘Do you wish he’d taken you with him?’
Festus took a deep breath. ‘I suppose I do. Having served him loyally for so many years I thought I would always be at his side.’
‘Do you mind being told to help me?’
The man looked sharply at Marcus. ‘No. Not now. At first, perhaps. It may sound strange but I find this situation more … comfortable. Being with Caesar is like walking a narrow mountain path. The view may be impressive, but you miss your step and you will fall. Do you understand?’
Marcus considered these comments then nodded. ‘Even though I came to admire him, there was something about him that always scared me. I never thought he saw me as a person. More of a useful tool.’
‘Exactly. That’s how it seems to me, now I am no longer with him and can see things more clearly. That said, if he had decided to take me with him I would have gone willingly.’
Marcus shuffled a little closer to the dying fire before he continued. ‘How long have you been in his service?’
‘Twenty years. I was fifteen when he bought me from a gladiator school. Caesar was a lot younger. Just starting out in politics. It was a dangerous time; he had powerful enemies even then.’ Festus smiled thinly at Marcus. ‘I was like you. He saw me fight in the arena and decided I had potential. I was taken to Rome to be trained as a bodyguard by my predecessor. A big Celt who was as swift and deadly as a cat despite his size.’
‘Oh?’ Marcus could not recall any mention of the man before and dared to probe a little further. ‘What happened to him?’
‘He went the same way that many do in our profession. He was killed in a street fight. That was when I was twenty. Caesar appointed me to replace him as head of his personal bodyguard. In time, I dare say you would have taken over from me.’
Marcus raised his eyebrows. He’d had no idea that was the fate intended for him. He had always seen his relationship with Caesar as something temporary — a stepping stone on his journey to save his mother.
‘You still may replace me, once this is all over and we return to Rome,’ Festus continued.
‘I’m not going back to Rome,’ Marcus replied quietly.
‘No?’ Now it was Festus’s turn to look surprised. ‘Why not?’
‘It was always my plan to return home after I rescued my mother.’
‘Home? That farm on Leucas you told me about?’
Marcus nodded.
Festus sighed. ‘You’d best forget that, Marcus. You told me your father got into debt trying to make the farm pay its way, right? So the chances are it has been sold on. It’s almost certain someone else owns the farm now. You can’t go back there.’
‘But it belongs to us,’ Marcus protested angrily. ‘It’s our farm.’
‘It was. It isn’t now. That is the way of things.’ Festus tried to sound gentle. ‘You cannot return to the past, lad. The Gods have decided on a different destiny.’
‘No. I will return to my home. With my mother. I will find a way. I swear it.’
Festus smiled sadly. ‘Very well then, Marcus. But one step at a time. First we must reach Athens and discover where Decimus is, and the estate where your mother is held. I had hoped we could find him without using official channels. There’s a risk someone might warn him of our presence if we do that. But it can’t be helped now. Get some sleep. There’s a long road ahead of us.’
Festus settled back, arms folded behind his head, and closed his eyes. Marcus sat up a while longer, staring into the red glow of the embers, his heart filled with longing for home. The word conjured up so many feelings in his heart, with memories of all he valued most in the world. All the things that had been taken from him. The very thought of home had been a lifeline to him amid the raging storm of his life these last two years. The idea that there was no longer a home to return to filled him with anger and despair.
It was a long time before the seething emotions began to subside. The fire had died out long before Marcus finally lay down, huddled beneath his cloak, to fall into a troubled sleep.
9
They left the forest before first light and took the road south, leading away from Stratos. They walked fast, keeping a watch on the way ahead and leaving the road every time they saw other travellers. They bypassed every village they encountered so there would be no chance of anyone recalling that a man and two boys had passed through. The news of Pindarus’s death and the reward for those held responsible for his murder would follow hot on the heels of Marcus and his companions, so it was essential to remain one step ahead of their pursuers until they reached the comparative safety of Athens, over two hundred miles away.
Once they had crossed the Achelos river Festus led them into the mountains of Aetolia, a largely uninhabited region where lonely shepherds tended the flocks of goats and sheep grazing on the slopes. There were very few villages, usually no more than a loose collection of stone huts, and they were forced to live off the land. Fortunately there were plenty of streams, gushing down rocky channels, and hares to hunt, as well as larger game. On the third day after fleeing Stratos, Marcus managed to bring down a small deer with his slingshot, the heavy missile knocking the animal cold before it even knew a human was nearby. They ate heartily that night and there was enough meat for two haunches to be put aside for the following days, with the burden shared between them.
They stuck to the mountains, passing Mount Parnassos where the snow still capping its lofty peak gleamed in the sunlight. That evening Festus decided they were sufficiently far from Stratos to risk stopping in the town of Delphi. Formerly one of the most important places in Greece, thanks to the Oracle in the temple of Apollo, Delphi had been visited by kings, generals and statesmen who sought to know their futures from the Oracle. The decline in the power of Greece and the rise of Rome had not treated the town kindly and Marcus noted the rundown nature of the streets after they entered the gate to find cheap accommodation for the night.
They took a dingy, airless room at the back of a small inn and wearily set down their packs as they surveyed their surroundings. The walls were cracked and stained and the large wooden frame of the only bed was covered with a torn mattress, from which grey, dusty straw poked out. Festus indicated the bed.
‘You two share that. I’ll sleep on the floor.’
Lupus made a face. ‘I would have been more comfortable sleeping in the open.’
‘Can’t be helped,’ Festus responded. ‘There are too many farms surrounding Delphi. If we were caught sleeping on their land someone might ask difficult questions. This is safer. Now rest for a bit, then we’ll go out to find something to eat when it’s dark.’
‘After that I want to look over the Temple of Apollo,’ Lupus announced, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
Festus shook his head. ‘Not a good idea. Let’s just eat and turn in. We still have three more days on the road, at least, before we reach Athens. Besides, we shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves.’
‘But we’re far away from Stratos,’ Lupus replied. ‘We’re safe here. Surely? And plenty of people will be visiting the temple. We won’t attract any attention. Come on, Marcus, what do you say?’