The hunting dog sniffed again, then slowly turned its head towards Marcus and fixed its dark brown eyes on him, unblinking. He felt a cold dread seize his limbs and bit his lip to stop himself crying out in terror. Marcus did not want to die screaming in agony as the jaws of the dogs tore at his flesh. But the thought of it, the dread of the moment when they began to maul him, filled his mind and the strength drained so abruptly from his legs that he would have collapsed had he not been tightly tied to the post.
Lupus was still calling out to the Gods for mercy, his voice growing louder and more shrill each time. Festus glared at the dogs and spoke in an undertone.
‘Go on then, you brutes! Get on with it!’
With a soft growl the hunting dog approached Marcus, warily pacing towards the helpless boy as it continued to sniff, tilting its head slightly one way, then the other. Marcus closed his eyes tightly, blocking out the vision of the brute, but even above the roars of the crowd he was certain he could hear the faint rustle of its breath. He prayed to the Gods that the animal would tear out his throat so that he could bleed to death quickly and be spared the horror of being eaten alive. Every muscle in his body was now tense, every inch of his skin tingling with terrified anticipation.
‘No …’ he heard Lupus whimper.
‘Don’t show any fear,’ said Festus. ‘Let ’em see how Romans die.’
Marcus felt a soft nudge of fur against his thigh and he lurched against his bonds, unable to prevent a panicked cry. Then he felt the warm rasp of the hunting dog’s tongue and a quiet, plaintive whine. It was too much to bear and Marcus opened his eyes and stared down at the scarred head of the dog. He was about to shout at the animal when he stopped. There was no bloodlust in the beast’s eyes, no hint of violence at all, just an adoring gleam. The dog licked him again and rubbed its head against his legs, and Marcus felt a shocking sense of disbelief as he stared into its eyes and whispered.
‘Cerberus …’
At the mention of its name the hunting dog wagged its long tail and rose up on its hind legs, pressing its paws on Marcus’s shoulders as it licked his face, an urgent whining sound in its throat.
‘Cerberus.’ Marcus smiled, memories of the years he had spent with the dog tumbling back. ‘Enough, boy. Down.’
But the animal’s joy was too great for it to be told what to do now. When it finished with his face it began to lap at the offal and the sensation tickled Marcus so that he laughed out loud. A warm flow of relief swept through his veins. His limbs still trembled, but from shock this time. Around them the arena was growing quiet and still as the crowd looked on in disbelief. Marcus was unaware of them as his heart filled with love for his pet, and grief for what had become of it. He had thought Cerberus was gone, beaten to death by the men who had killed Titus and kidnapped Marcus and his mother. He must have lived, and been found by a new owner, one who saw Cerberus’s size and strength as an excuse to use the animal for fighting. Marcus could only guess at the cruelties his dog had been subjected to.
His thoughts were interrupted by Festus. ‘Marcus, the dog knows you! How is that possible?’
‘He’s mine.’ Marcus choked back his tears. ‘My dog, my friend. From childhood.’
‘Well, I pray that his loyalty to you is greater than his loyalty to his pack.’
Marcus looked past the shaggy head of Cerberus and saw that the other dogs were edging forward, intent on carrying out the task given to them. The black dog with narrow ears was only a few paces from Marcus and he could see the savage glint in its eyes. It braced its legs ready to spring.
‘No!’ Marcus cried out, too late. The dog bounded forward a step and leapt at his throat. Cerberus turned to see the danger and jumped into its path, and the dogs collided with a soft thud, rolling on the ground in a blur of paws, fur, sand and teeth. Cerberus scrambled to his feet, head down and jaws locked in a throaty snarl as his hair rose along his spine. The black dog hunched low, six feet away, fangs bared as it growled and then barked. Marcus watched them facing off, filled with hope that Cerberus might save him, and fear that the animal would be hurt.
Then the other dog pounced. Cerberus lurched to one side and twisted as his opponent landed on the sand. He jumped, crushing the dog down with his paws, and buried his jaws in the short fur of its neck. The animal let out a yelp of pain and struggled to free itself, jerking violently from side to side. It tore free and rolled back on to its feet, crouching, as blood dripped from its dark fur on to the white sand. Most of the other dogs had backed off, but two were edging round the fight towards Lupus. As he saw them he screamed.
‘Get back! Back you filthy curs!’
Cerberus saw them at the same time and turned towards them and barked loudly, and they recoiled as if they had been struck. It took only an instant but his opponent took advantage of the diversion to spring back into the attack. In a blurred rush he leapt at the hunting dog, clamping heavy jaws into Cerberus’s matted flank as he shook his head from side to side. Marcus felt his heart lurch as his dog let out a shrill yelp of pain and tried to wrench itself free, but the black dog hung on, working its jaws. With a powerful thrust, Cerberus forced the other dog back until it fell. The impact loosed its grip and Cerberus pulled free then lunged at one of its paws and closed his powerful jaws with a sharp crunch of flesh and muscle. The black dog let out a piercing howl as the hunting dog worried the crushed limb for a while longer before releasing it and backing away. Ears folded flat, his defeated opponent slunk away, limping and bleeding.
‘That’s my Cerberus!’ Marcus shouted gleefully. ‘Well done, boy! Well done.’
But there was no time for anything more as the dogs that had moved on Lupus were advancing again. Their hunger drove them forward, despite the warning of their pack leader, and Marcus could only watch helplessly. Lupus cried out in terror and Cerberus’s head turned towards him as he leapt forward, crashing into the side of the nearest dog, a powerfully built hound with a tan hide, and knocking him flying. Another dog managed to swerve round the tangle of furry limbs and raced straight for Lupus. As it made to leap at his offal-stained chest, something struck it in the side and it instinctively spun round to look.
Marcus saw a broken clay cup lying on the sand. Someone must have thrown it from the crowd. Glancing up, he saw people cheering excitedly at the unexpected turn of events. No one had seen an execution of criminals turn out like this before and they were cheering for Cerberus as he fought to protect the humans.
‘Come on, boy!’ Marcus shouted out. ‘Come on, Cerberus!’
‘Cerberus!’ Festus bellowed. ‘Cerberus!’
Marcus heard the cry repeated in the crowd as it spread quickly.
‘That’s it!’ Festus cried out excitedly. ‘Keep ’em at it! Cerberus!’
The large hunting dog bit into the head of the tan dog and tore at its ear. Drops of blood flicked through the air as the animal pulled free, leaving a gaping tear in fur and flesh at the top of its head. Cerberus growled as it retreated and then turned his head from side to side, daring the rest of the pack to take him on, or try to get past him to Marcus and the others. For a moment it seemed as if he had them cowed but another hunting dog stepped forward, dark hackles up as it growled. It had only one eye, the left socket empty and crudely stitched up. The remaining eye fixed on Cerberus and it stopped a short distance from him as it lowered itself into a crouch. Cerberus snarled and stood foursquare, as if trying to intimidate his new challenger by his greater height. If that was the intention, it didn’t work. The one-eyed rival shuffled forward and then leapt. Cerberus reacted a fraction too slowly and tried to counter-attack with a charge of his own. The momentum was with the other hunting dog and it knocked Cerberus on to his back and fell on him, snapping with its jaws as its claws scrabbled furiously against its opponent’s chest.