The Gladiator

'Good man!' Macro slapped him on the back. 'Get to Alexandria, and find us those men. And don't go and fuck it up.'

'Thanks for the encouragement.'

'You're welcome.' Macro grinned. 'Anyway, you've got it easy. It's us who'll be having to cope with those slaves and that gladiator they've got leading them. Which reminds me.' He turned to Centurion Micon, who had been keeping as still and as quiet as possible during the preceding discussion, no doubt hoping that invisibility was his best hope in escaping the shame of fleeing the battlefield that had claimed the lives of his commander and all but a handful of his men. He wilted before Macro's gaze.

'Sir?'

'This gladiator. Did that boy you captured mention his name?'

Yes, yes, he did, sir.' Micon nodded.' He said he was a Thracian, called Ajax.'

'Ajax?' Macro scratched his chin, and then his fingers froze as his eyes suddenly widened. 'Ajax!' He turned to Cato. 'What do you think? Is it possible?'

'Do es the name mean something to you?' asked the senator.

'It does. At least I think it does. The man I saw recognised me, I'm certain of it. But there's only one Ajax I can recall meeting, and it's hard to believe it can be the same man.'

Cato took a deep breath. 'If it is, and he knows that we're on the island, then we're in even more danger than I thought. Ajax won't rest until he's had his full measure of revenge.'

'Revenge?' Sempronius hissed with frustration. 'Would you mind telling me what's going on? Who is this Ajax, and what has he got against you?'

'It's a long story,' said Macro. 'But he has his reasons for hating us.

His father used to commanda pirate fleet operating out of the coast of Illyria. Until Cato and I put paid to his activities. We captured Ajax, his father and most of the pirates. We had orders to make an example of them.' He shrugged. 'Cato and I were the ones who crucified his father and had Ajax sold into slavery.'

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Two days after the news of the defeat reached Gortyna, Cato arrived at the small fishing village of Ciprana on the south coast.

The port had been recommended to him as being virtually cut off from the rest of the island by the sheer mountains that surrounded it.

Only a little-used track linked Ciprana to the plain, picking its way along steep slopes and ravines. It was unlikely that the slaves had even heard of the place, let alone knew how to find the port. There should be some craft there capable of carrying Cato across the sea to Alexandria.

He travelled on horseback with an escort of four picked men, all wearing scarlet tunics and cloaks that marked them out as Roman soldiers. Cato had been provided with an expensively embroidered tunic from what was left of the wardrobe of Governor Hirtius. He also wore the man's fine calfskin boots, which were a little on the large side, but comfortable enough after years of wearing the heavy nailed boots of the legions. In a sealed leather tube that hung from a thong around Cato's neck were two documents and the senator's family ring. The first letter appointed him to the temporary rank of tribune, signed and sealed by Senator Sempronius in the name of the Emperor Claudius. Both Cato and the senator hoped that the document would impress the legate in Egypt enough to persuade him to send aid. The second was a detailed report of the situation in Crete, which clearly outlined the dangers facing the province.

Sempronius concluded with a request that Legate Petronius send a squadron of warships and a military force powerful enough to put down the slave revolt.

It was an ambitious demand, Cato reflected. There was every chance that Petronius might refuse, or delay sending the reinforcements while he sent a message to Rome asking for Sempronius's instructions to be approved. Such a delay would prove fatal to all concerned, and the senator had impressed upon Cato the need to use all his persuasive skills to ensure that Petronius complied. He would be armed with bluff and argument, Cato mused. Hardly an inspiring thought.

As Cato and his escort followed the shepherd who had been sent along to guide them to the port, his mind was fixed on the peril that Julia and Macro faced at Gortyna. The people had been terrified by the news of the ambush, and some had chosen to pack what belongings they could and flee to the north, over the high mountains that formed the spine of the island. With neither food nor protection, they would be at the mercy of the weather and the bands of brigands that preyed on travellers from their strong-holds. There had been no reasoning with those who had chosen this course rather than face the prospect of being massacred by the rebel slaves.

Macro had been unmoved as he watched them trickle out of the city. 'Less mouths for us to feed, at any rate.'

'That's true.' Cato watched the refugees a moment longer before turning to his friend.' Do you really think you can hold Gortyna if the slaves attack?'

Work had commenced on repairing the walls and gates of the city as soon as the remaining inhabitants could be organised into labour gangs. Gaps were filled with rubble and topped with crude breast-works. It would not keep the enemy out for long, Macro had informed the senator, but Sempronius had quietly pointed out that it would be best to keep the people occupied and offer them some hope, rather than sitting and waiting in fear.

'We'll make a show of manning the walls. I'll have all the spare kit distributed to able-bodied men, so at least we'll look like we have the numbers to put up a good fight. If Ajax calls our bluff and-attacks, then we'll fall back to the acropolis and hold out there. We should be safe enough.'

'I hope so.'

Macro glanced at his friend and saw the young man's concerned expression. 'You're worried about Julia.'

'Of course I am.'

'I'll make sure she's safe. If it looks like the acropolis is going to fall, then I'll do my best to protect her and get her safely away'

'And if you can't?'

'Then I will protect her until they cut me down.'

Cato was silent for a moment. 'I wouldn't want them to harm her.

If there was any risk of the slaves taking her alive…'

'Look here, Cato,' Macro began awkwardly. 'I'm not prepared to prevent her falling into their hands. If that's what you mean.'

He paused and cleared his throat.' Not unless you really want me to.'

'No. I wouldn't ask that of you, or anyone. That's her choice.'

'I suppose.' Macro poked his vine stick at a crack in the stonework. 'She's a brave one, and proud too. She'll do what's right, if the time comes.'

Cato felt his stomach lurch. This conversation did not feel real.

They were talking in the calm, measured tones of men who might be casually discussing the solution to some kind of technical problem. The image of Julia, powerless and terrified before the faceless rage of the vengeful slaves, filled his heart with a pain he had not known before. At the same time, he could not bear the thought of her being put to death, even to spare her a worse fate before death eventually came. He felt sick and gripped the edge of the parapet with his fingers. It was tempting to abandon his journey to Alexandria and remain in Gortyna to defend Julia. After all, the Legate of Egypt would probably deny them the forces needed to put down the revolt. It was a fool's errand.

He took a deep breath to calm his growing anxiety and pushed himself away from the wall, and straightened up. 'Well, let's hope that it doesn't come to that. I'll return as soon as I can.'

'You do that.'

They clasped arms and then Macro nodded towards the administration building. 'Have you said goodbye to Julia yet?'

'No. I've been putting it off. I don't know who she is more angry at, me for going or her father for sending me.'

Macro chuckled and slapped Cato on the shoulder. 'I warned you, old son. A soldier should never let himself get too involved with the fairer sex. It unmans him, and preoccupies his mind when it should be focused on other things.'