Before he could carry out his plan, the animal lunged forward on all fours, catching Quintus off guard. He backed away hastily, forgetting his damaged sandal. Within a few steps, the studded sole snagged on a protruding root. They pulled the straps attached to his calf taut, in the process unbalancing him. Quintus fell heavily, landing this time on his backside. Somehow, he hung on to his spear, which landed flat on the glade floor beside him. That didn’t stop his heart from shrivelling with fear. The bear’s attention focused in on him and, moving incredibly fast, it swarmed in his direction.
Quintus’ eyes flickered to one side. The shocked expression on his father’s face said it all. He was about to die.
Despite his horror, Fabricius kept his oath. He did not budge from his position.
Quintus’ gaze returned to the bear. Its gaping mouth was no more than a handsbreadth from his feet. He had but the briefest instant to react before it ripped one of his legs off. Fortunately, the end of his spear protruded beyond his sandals. Gripping the shaft, he raised it off the ground. Sunlight flashed off the polished iron tip, and bounced into the bear’s eyes, distracting it, and causing it to snap irritably at the blade. Swiftly, Quintus pulled his legs to one side. At the same time, he jammed the weapon’s butt into the earth by his elbow and gripped it fiercely with both hands.
When the bear closed in, he aimed the sharp point at the flesh below its wide-open jaws. Intent on seizing him, it paid no attention. Lowering its head, it lunged at his legs. Desperately, Quintus slid them away as fast as he could. The movement brought the animal right on to his spear, and its momentum was great enough for the razor-sharp iron to slice through the skin. There was a grating feeling as it pushed over the larynx before running onwards into the deeper, softer tissues. Fully capable of tearing him apart yet, the bear bucked and reared, its immense strength threatening to rip Quintus’ weapon from his hands. He hung on for dear life as, half suspended above him, the animal clawed furiously at the thick wooden shaft. It was so close that his nostrils were filled with its pungent odour. He could almost touch the fangs that had torn apart the Gaul and three of the dogs.
It was utterly terrifying.
The animal’s immense weight eventually worked against it, forcing the deadly blade further into its flesh. Quintus was far from happy, however. The bear was very much alive, and it was drawing ever nearer. It filled his entire range of vision — a great angry mass of teeth and claws. Any closer and it would rip him to shreds. Could the protruding spikes at the base of the iron shank take the strain? Quintus’ mouth was bone dry with fear. Die, you whoreson. Just die.
It lurched a further handsbreadth down the spear shaft.
He thought his heart would stop.
Abruptly, the bear gagged, and a bright red tide of blood sprayed from its mouth, covering the ground beyond Quintus. He had sliced through a large artery! Jupiter, let its heart be next, he prayed. Before it reaches me. The shaft juddered as the iron spikes slammed against the creature’s neck, and it came to an abrupt stop. It snarled in Quintus’ face, and he closed his eyes. There was no more he could do.
To his immense relief, the bear stopped struggling. Another torrent of blood poured from its gaping jaws, covering Quintus’ face and shoulders. Disbelieving, he looked up, stunned to see the light in its amber eyes weaken, and then go out. All at once, the bear was a dead weight on the end of his spear. Quintus’ exhausted muscles could take the pressure no longer, and he let go.
The animal landed on top of him.
To Quintus’ immense relief, it did not move. And although he could barely breathe, he was alive.
An instant later, he felt the bear’s body being hauled off.
‘You’re unhurt,’ his father cried. ‘Praise be!’
Agesandros growled his agreement.
Quintus sat up gingerly. ‘Someone was watching over me,’ he muttered, wiping some of the bear’s blood away from his eyes.
‘They were indeed, but that doesn’t take away from what you’ve done,’ said Fabricius. There was tangible relief in his voice. ‘I was sure you were going to be killed. But you held your nerve! Few men can do that when faced with certain death. You should be proud. Not only have you proved your courage, but you’ve honoured our ancestors in the finest way possible.’
Quintus glanced at Agesandros and the two slaves, who were regarding him with new respect. His chin lifted. He had succeeded! Thank you, Diana and Mars, he thought. I will make a generous offering to you both. Inevitably, though, Quintus’ eyes were drawn to the tattooed slave ’s body. Guilt seized him. ‘I should have saved him too,’ he muttered.
‘Come now!’ Fabricius replied. ‘You are not Hercules. The fool should have known better than to risk his life for a dog. Your achievement is worthy of any Roman.’ He drew Quintus to his feet and embraced him warmly.
Quintus’ emotions suddenly became overwhelming: sadness at the Gaul’s death mixed with relief that he had triumphed over his fear. He struggled not to cry. During the fight, he’d forgotten about becoming a man. Somehow, he had achieved the task set out by his father.
At last they drew apart.
‘How does it feel?’ Fabricius asked.
‘No different,’ Quintus replied with a grin.
‘Are you sure?’
Quintus stared at the bear and realised that things had changed. Before, he’d been unsure of his ability to kill such a magnificent creature. Indeed, he’d nearly failed because of his terror. Staring death in the face was a lot worse than he’d imagined. Yet wanting to survive had been a gut instinct. He looked back to find Fabricius studying him intently.
‘I saw that you were afraid,’ his father said. ‘I would have intervened, but you had made me promise not to.’
Quintus flushed, and opened his mouth to speak.
Fabricius raised a hand. ‘Your reaction was normal, despite what some might say. But your determination to succeed, even if you died in the attempt, was stronger than your fear. You were right to make me swear not to step in.’ He clapped Quintus on the arm. ‘The gods have favoured you.’
Quintus remembered the two woodpeckers he’d seen, and smiled.
‘As you are to be a soldier, we shall have to visit the temple of Mars as well as that of Diana.’ Fabricius winked. ‘There’s also the small matter of buying a toga.’
Quintus beamed. Visits to Capua were always to be looked forward to. Living in the countryside afforded few opportunities for socialising or pleasure. They could visit the public baths and his father’s old comrade, Flavius Martialis. Flavius’ son, Gaius, was the same age as he was, and the two got along famously. Gaius would love to hear the story of the bear hunt.
First, though, he had to tell Aurelia and his mother. They would be waiting eagerly for news.
While Agesandros and the slaves stayed to bury the tattooed Gaul and to fashion carrying poles for the bear, Quintus and his father headed for home.
It didn’t take the Egyptian long to sell the friends. Thanks to the impending games at Capua, sales at the Neapolis slave market were brisk. There were few specimens on sale to compare with the two Carthaginians’ muscular build, or the Numidians’ wiry frames, and buyers crowded round the naked men, squeezing their arms and staring into their eyes for signs of fear. Although Hanno’s miserable demeanour was not that of a combatant, he impressed nonetheless. Cleverly, the Egyptian refused to sell them except as a pair. Several dealers bid against each other to purchase the two friends, and the eventual victor was a dour Latin by the name of Solinus. He also bought four of the Egyptian’s other captives.