The Gladiator

Macro cleared his throat.' Begging your pardon, sir. I thought you said I was your choice for commander.'

'I did.'

'Then shouldn'tI lead this column?'

'Your particular talents are required here, for the present.'

'Sir?'

'I will explain later.' Sempronius turned to Centurion Plotius.

'The Tenth Macedonian will remain in Gortyna, to keep order and to help with reconstruction. Centurion Cato will assign work details for your men.'

'Yes, sir.' Plotius nodded.

'Any questions?'

Marcellus spoke. 'Yes, sir. It will take my men some days to carry out their job, and we will need adequate provisions. The thing is, Marcus Glabius has not been forthcoming with the supplies he has hoarded up there on the hill.'

'So I've heard.'

'Well, the truth of it is that he has been giving me half of what I need for the men and horses, and he's been doling it out on a daily basis. I will need at least ten days' supplies, and I will need it in full rations.'

'I've already requested that,' Sempronius replied. 'However, Glabius has sent me word that he must put the people of Gortyna first. He will only grant you — those are his words — five days' supplies, at half rations, for you and your horses.'

Marcellus's expression darkened. 'That won't do, sir. In any case, who is he to tell you what he will provide from his supplies?'

'Who indeed?' Sempronius smiled weakly. 'Glabius is the man sitting on the food chest. He's also the man sitting pretty up there in the acropolis. Until the situation changes, the allocation of supplies is in his hands. In the meantime, you and your men will take what rations he provides for us, and when they are exhausted you will have to live off the land.'

Cato leaned forward.' Begging your pardon, sir?'

'What is it?'

'Prefect Marcellus and his column will not be campaigning through hostile territory. At least, it won't be hostile to start with. The local people have little enough food as it is, and if our men turn up and start seizing what's left, then we are hardly going to keep their loyalty, and that's something we're going to need in full measure in the days to come.'

'Well, what of it?' Sempronius responded in an exasperated tone.

'Our soldiers have to be fed.'

'That's true, but it would be best if they take as little as possible fromeach settlement they pass through, and also they must pay their way'

'Pay?' Marcellus snorted. 'We're bloody army, not traders. We don't pay our way'

Cato pursed his lips. 'As things are, I would recommend that we pay for the food, sir. Unless we want the peasants, slaves and brigands making common cause.'

'Let them try,' scoffed Marcellus. 'I'll ride them into the ground.'

'I'd rather you didn't,' said Sempronius. 'I would imagine the emperor would not be pleased to lose any more tax-payers in this province than is wholly necessary. You'll do as Cato says and pay for your supplies, and don't leave people to starve in your wake. Is that clear?'

Yes, sir.'

'Good, then I want you and Centurion Albinus to prepare your men to march at first light. Your orders will be sent to you later on.

I will want regular reports on your progress, Marcellus. Every other day'

'Yes, sir. Is that all?'

Sempronius stared at him for a moment and nodded. 'Yes. The briefing is over. You may leave, except for Centurions Cato and Macro.'

They remained in their seats as the other three officers scraped back their chairs and rose to salute and leave the room. Once the door was closed behind them, and the sound of footsteps had receded across the flagstones of the stable courtyard, Macro cleared his throat and leaned forward belligerently.

'Might I ask why I am not being entrusted with command of the column being sent to deal with the slaves?'

'It is not a question of trust.' Sempronius sighed. 'Rather, it is not a question of my faith in you so much as my lack of trust in Marcellus.'

'Eh? I don't follow you, sir.'

'You saw what he was like. Ambitious, and resentful. Marcellus has been serving in Crete for long enough to favour an insider like Glabius over me. I could be wrong about him, but I won't take the risk. I'd rather he was kept away from Gortyna while we deal with Glabius. Chasing down the runaways and enforcing martial law will keep him occupied for a while. Besides,' Sempronius smiled,'I meant what I said about requiring your talents here, Macro.'

'Sir?'

'I think it is time I resolve my differences with Glabius and persuade him to retire from his current post. I have no intention of setting Marcellus loose on the southern part of the province short of rations. So, we must get our hands on the supplies up in the acropolis as soon as possible.'

Macro glanced at Cato and winked.' Now that sounds like my kind of proposition.'

Cato looked at Sempronius. 'What do you have in mind, sir?'

'A little subterfuge, which we will put into effect once Marcellus is a safe distance from Gortyna. Tomorrow afternoon should do.'

Sempronius could not suppress a small chuckle. 'And then we shall see if Glabius has any backbone to back up his bluster. That's all for now, gentlemen.'

Macro and Cato were at the door when Sempronius called after them.' One other thing. I've found out who this gladiator might be.

It seems that the governor's wife bought him on a trip back to Rome a few months ago. Apparently he was a rising star and Antonia paid a small fortune for him.'

'Why?' asked Cato. 'I mean, of what use is a gladiator to a Roman matron?'

Macro and Sempronius glanced at each other, and Macro raised his eyes.

'Oh.' Cato blushed. 'I see. Anyway, what is his name?'

'I didn't get his real name,' said Sempronius. 'Only the one he fought under — " The Iron Thracian". Not much help, I'm afraid. Still, if he survived the earthquake, he might be the man who is leading the slaves.'

As the sun began to sink behind the mass of the acropolis, Sempronius, accompanied by two men in the plain tunics of clerks, with the bags containing their writing materials slung from their shoulders, made his way up the path leading to the main gate of the acropolis. He had sent a message to Glabius earlier in the afternoon requesting a meeting to discuss the provisioning requirements of his troops. Glabius had consented, and agreed the time that Sempronius had suggested for the meeting.

The shadows were lengthe ning on the slope leading up to the acropolis, casting gloom over the narrow alleyways between the houses that clustered there. Up on the wall that ringed the top of the hill, a handful of Glabius's men patrolled along the sentry walk, dark shapes against the brilliant glare of the sky. Sempronius was wearing a white tunic, fringed with the broad red band that signified his social status.

Across his shoulder was a sword belt, from which hung a richly decorated scabbard and hilt — a weapon that had been in his family for generations and survived the capsizing of the Horus.

As the gradient steepened and the route began to zigzag up the slope, Macro turned to Cato and mumbled, 'This is never going to work. We shouldn't have let him talk us into it.'

'The plan will work, if we keep quiet.' Cato tapped his mouth with a finger.

Macro clamped his lips together and shook his head in resignation. He walked a little awkwardly, thanks to the knife bound against his spine under the tunic. Cato also moved warily, and with a slight limp, as he was still recovering from his wound. He wore a felt skullcap to help conceal his identity if they encountered any of Glabius's men who might have visited the senator's headquarters. He had met Glabius once, and the man was sure to recognise him when they came face to face, but by then it would be too late for the tax collector to do anything about it.