In the open space, Procrustes steadily advanced on his Roman opponent, his fists inscribing small circles in the air. Festus shook his head to clear it and clumsily raised his own fists. The odds did not look promising, Marcus conceded. The Greek was at least half as big again as Festus, and his punches would carry great force behind them. Proscrustes shot his right fist out and Festus desperately knocked it to one side before raising his hands to protect his head. Procrustes steadily unleashed a series of jabs, probing his opponent, and although only a handful got through, Marcus winced each time his friend’s head snapped back. Then the Greek stepped up the pace, trying to pummel the Roman’s chest. Again some blows got through and Festus staggered back gasping as blood ran down his face from a cut above his right eyebrow.
‘Ha!’ Procrustes reared up, fists held out and high as he prepared to claim victory. He turned slowly so the crowd could clearly see him. Although his gang members were cheering at the top of their voices, the rest of the crowd’s support was muted, though none dared support his challenger any more.
Marcus gritted his teeth. ‘Don’t give in, Festus! Don’t give in.’
As if in answer to his urging, the bodyguard drew a deep breath and stretched up. He strode towards Procrustes. At the last moment one of the thugs called out a warning and the Greek began to turn round — just in time to take a blow to the jaw. Festus followed up with his left, and then the right again, an uppercut this time that sent the gang leader’s head snapping back. He weathered a few more blows before recovering his stance ready to renew the fight. But Festus had no intention of getting into a slugging match. Stepping forward he drew his right arm back as if to punch his opponent in the face. Instinctively the Greek raised his fists to block the blow. That was when Festus swung his boot in instead; a vicious blow right on the other man’s kneecap. Procrustes bellowed in agony and staggered back as Festus kicked again, into his groin. The Greek doubled over and received a knee in his face, and more blows to each side of his head as Festus swung his fists as hard as he could.
‘Come on, Festus!’
Marcus turned and saw that Lupus was back.
‘Thought you’d gone?’
The scribe shrugged and gave Marcus a sheepish grin before he continued shouting support for their comrade.
The crowd erupted in cheers and the woman beside Marcus screamed shrilly as she urged him to finish the gang leader off.
‘Kill him! Break his neck!’
Festus leaned down and raised his opponent’s chin with his left hand. The Greek swayed as his eyes blinked wildly. Festus bunched his right fist and drew it back as far as he could before unleashing a powerful blow from the shoulder that carried his whole weight behind it. Procrustes flew backwards and crashed heavily to the ground. Festus stepped over him, breathing deeply as blood dripped on to his unconscious opponent. Marcus grabbed Lupus’s sleeve and pulled him forward. They ran over to Festus as the crowd began to roar with delight. The members of the Greek’s gang looked round uncertainly, some with fearful expressions as the mob celebrated the fall of Procrustes.
‘Are you all right?’ Lupus asked anxiously.
Sweat ran from Festus’s brow and his chest heaved. The cut above his eye was beginning to swell. He licked his lip and spat out some blood before he cocked an eyebrow at the scribe. ‘Just great. Next stupid question?’
He breathed in deeply and winced as he clutched a hand to his side. ‘I need to go somewhere to rest and recover … Sweet Jupiter, that brute has a punch like a sledgehammer! But he’s been cut down to size now. Before we go I’ll take what’s ours.’
Festus leaned over Procrustes and removed the purse from his belt. Beneath the soft leather it felt light enough to contain only a handful of coins.
‘That’ll do us, boys. Now let’s get out of here.’ He nodded towards the thugs who were starting to shuffle across the open space. ‘They don’t look very forgiving. Let’s go.’
With Marcus and Lupus supporting Festus, they returned to their packs and picked them up. The woman who had spoken to Marcus earlier was grinning like a maniac and planted a kiss on Festus’s cheek before she hurried away into the crowd. Other townspeople shouted their congratulations and patted him on the back as the three of them worked through the crowd towards the rear of the square. Suddenly a flash of lightning bathed the town in a brilliant white glare. A moment later thunder crashed from the heavens and the rain began to fall — a few drops rattling off the roof tiles at first, then in earnest as silver rods slashed down on Leuctra.
‘We have to find shelter,’ said Marcus.
Festus shook his head. ‘Not here. Not in the town. Outside.’
‘What?’ Lupus turned to look at him with a surprised expression. ‘I thought that’s what the fight was about. So we could afford a decent room?’
‘That was before our friend back there decided to use the situation to cement his hold over the town. He won’t be out for long. We shouldn’t be around when he regains consciousness. Something tells me he’s a sore loser. We have to get out of Leuctra. Before Procrustes recovers and comes looking for us …’
12
It rained hard for over an hour before the storm had passed. In that time Marcus and the others had left the town and made their way two miles down the road towards Athens before Marcus announced his decision to get off the road. His breathing was laboured and every few paces he grimaced and clutched a hand to his chest. It was dusk and the sun had already set by the time the clouds began to clear, leaving a golden hue across the western horizon. They stood next to an abandoned, roofless building beside the road. A faded sign on the wall revealed it had once been a wayside inn.
‘Why?’ Lupus asked, shivering as he stood in his drenched tunic and cloak. ‘Surely we should just put as much distance between us and Leuctra as possible.’
Marcus shook his head. ‘We’re not going very fast. If Procrustes comes after us you can bet he’ll be moving faster. If they catch up with us on the road …’
‘He’s right,’ said Festus. ‘We have to get off the road and find somewhere to rest. I can’t go on … much further without a … rest.’
They saw a path a short distance away and turned on to it, following it up a small hill into some olive groves. On the far side the path continued uphill towards a forest of cedars and poplars, passing over an open meadow. In the failing light they saw a herd of goats clustered round a handful of pine trees. Marcus glanced across the slope and could just make out the dim outline of a young goatherd resting against one of the trunks. Then they entered the forest. After a hundred paces or so there was a natural clearing round a jumble of rocks and Festus halted them.
‘This will have to do. I can’t go any further.’ He sat down heavily and rested his back against a boulder.
‘Want me to light a fire?’ asked Lupus as he lowered his pack.
‘No,’ Marcus answered. ‘What if anyone sees the glow? The last thing we want is for those thugs to find us.’
‘That’s not entirely true,’ Festus intervened. ‘I’ve been thinking it … through. If I was Procrustes, I’d want my money back, and I’d want … revenge on those who had humiliated him in front of the people of … Leuctra. So we can be sure he will come. How far he will follow is anyone’s guess. If he picks up our trail and finds us here we’ll need to prepare. And we’ll … light a fire to lure him in.’
Marcus sucked in a deep breath. ‘That’s madness. You saw his men. Big brutes, and there must have been nine or ten of ’em. We can’t take on that many. Not with you in poor shape and Lupus barely able to handle a sword.’
Lupus shot him an irritated look. ‘Thanks.’
‘Then we must make a few preparations to improve the odds in our favour. Listen …’
While Lupus prepared a fire Marcus set to work cutting lengths of wood from the surrounding trees, passing the bundles of wood to Festus for sharpening. As the night fell they worked faster, knowing it was likely their pursuers would track them down before too long. Under Festus’s instructions Marcus and Lupus surrounded the clearing with traps to ambush Procrustes and his men, should they make an appearance during the night. Then, when they were done, Lupus built up the fire and they settled down to wait.