'Stay in your saddles!'
He strode across to his tent and tore the flaps aside as he entered.
From his position nearly fifty paces away, Cato watched intently, fearing for Julia's life, and at the same time hoping that the bodies near the cage would not be noticed in the darkness. He tensed, as if ready to spring forward, but Macro grabbed his arm.
'Keep still, lad. Or we're all dead.'
Cato turned and glared at his friend, then nodded slowly as reason returned. The strain in his muscles eased as he sank towards the ground. There was silence from the tent for a moment, and then the flaps opened again and Ajax emerged holding a small chest in one hand, while the other grasped Julia by the wrist. Cato stopped breathing as he saw her, beautiful as the dawn even at this distance.
Ajax pulled hard, spinning Julia round so that she lost her balance and tumbled at the feet of the men standing in front of the tent.
'Get her on a horse. Kharim!'
'Yes, General.'
'You take charge of her. Guard her with your life, understand?'
Kharim reached down and with the help of the men on the ground pulled her up and across his thighs. Ajax climbed back on to his horse, clasping the chest to his side as he took the reins in his spare hand. 'Take her to the boats!'
As the bodyguards urged their mounts forward, along the track that led towards the tip of the peninsula, the gladiator glanced towards the cage, almost invisible in the dark, and pointed to two of his men.
'Kill the Roman, then get out of here.'
Then he wheeled his mount round and spurred it into a gallop along the track to catch up with the rest of his bodyguards. Cato stared after them, his heart heavy as lead as Julia was carried away from him. The two men detailed to kill Macro dismounted, tied their reins to the rail beside the tent and hurried across towards the cage.
'They're going to see the bodies any moment,' Macro whispered.
Cato nodded. 'We need those horses. They mustn't get away'
He rose into a crouch and glanced round at the others.' Ready?'
They nodded.
'Go!'
Cato launched himself forward, sprinting towards the two rebels as Macro, Atticus and Vulso scrambled after him. There was a sharp cry as one of the rebels saw the bodies sprawled on the ground. The sight momentarily distracted them, and it was only at the last instant that they turned towards the sounds of padding feet. Cato's sword swung out of the night, cutting into the shoulder of the nearest man and through to the bone. As he dropped like a side of beef, Macro took the second man with a thrust to the chest. He fell beside his comrade with a dull grunt and lay writhing at Macro's feet.
Sheathing his blade, Cato turned to Atticus.
'Stay out of sight until Fulvius comes up.'
'No, sir,' Atticus protested. 'We can help.'
'There are only two horses. There's nothing more you can do.
Macro, come on,' Cato ordered as he ran towards the tethered horses.
'Wait a moment.' Macro stopped to strip the tunic from one of the bodies and hurriedly pulled it on. 'That's better! What's the plan?'
Macro panted as he chased after his friend.
'Plan?' Cato took the reins of the nearest horse and sheathed his sword. 'We go after them and free Julia. Or die trying.'
'Nice to know you've thought it through.'
They scrambled into the saddles, took up the reins and turned the horses down the track Ajax and his men had taken. With a shout, Cato dug his heels in and urged his horse into a gallop. He knew it was madness for the two of them to attempt this pursuit by themselves, but he would not be able to live with the knowledge that he had let Julia remain a captive of the gladiator. There was no way that he and Macro alone could take on over twenty of Ajax's bodyguard, but he did not care. All reason was spent and he was driven on by his heart, willing only to save her or die in the attempt.
That last sight of her, terrified and vulnerable as she was carried off into the darkness, was branded on to his mind's eye as he leaned forward along the horse's neck and urged it on.
The path was broad and well trodden by generations of local people making the journey along the peninsula, perhaps to leave an offering at the shrine of a local deity, or to swim from one of the small coves along the coastline. Cato could only guess as he and Macro rode on, scanning the way ahead for sign of their prey. Ajax had spoken of boats. He must have some plan of escape. Cato had to find him before it could be put into effect.
To their left an expanse of the bay was lit up by the flames of the four ships, still ablaze. Beyond, the rebel camp was alive with tiny figures as the Roman soldiers cut a path through the shelters without mercy. Cato took one glance at the scene before he dismissed it and continued into the night. He knew the risk they were taking in galloping over unknown ground in the darkness. But already rosy-fingered dawn was lighting the horizon, and the route ahead was just discernible.
A mile after they had left the camp, Cato saw a shape ahead of him: another rider.
'We're catching them!' Macro called out.
Cato drew his sword, clasping the handle tightly, and slapped the flat of the blade on the horse's rump. The animal's flanks shivered between his thighs, and it put on an extra spurt as it closed on the rebel. More figures emerged from the darkness ahead of the man, and Cato felt a cold determination firm up his resolve.
He was no more than ten paces behind his quarry when the man glanced back over his shoulder. He stared at his pursuers a moment and then called ahead to the next man, who also looked back, as did another. They reined in and fell back as their horses slowed and then drew their swords. Meanwhile Cato closed on the rearmost man, watching him intently. As they began to draw level, the rebel slashed out with his sword. Cato clenched his thighs and threw his weight to one side, causing his horse to stagger, but it remained on its feet and the blade hissed through the air.
'My turn!' Cato snarled, stabbing out with his sword and catching the rebel in the side, just above his sword belt. The point pierced tunic, flesh and muscle before entering his guts, and then Cato ripped it free. The rider dropped his weapon and clasped his side as he bent forward over his saddle. Cato rode on. Macro had passed ahead of him. The two rebels had turned side on to block Macro and Cato.
They held their blades ready. Macro dug his heels in, aiming straight at them. His horse did as it was bid until the very last moment, when it tried to draw up and turn and its flank smashed into the side of one of the horses, pinning the rider's leg. The man gasped, but before he could recover Macro hacked at his sword arm, cutting deeply into the flesh above the elbow. The blade dropped from the man's hand as his horse staggered back and trotted off the track into the bushes that grew on each side.
Macro glanced round as the other man swung at him. He managed to parry the blow but the blade glanced off and struck his horse on the neck just behind the ears. At once the animal let out a shrill whinny and reared up on its hind legs, kicking out with the front. Macro was thrown back. He toppled from his saddle and flew through the air before crashing down on his side. There was a brief flash of light as his head struck the stony path, and the air was driven from his body with a sharp gasp. He forced himself on to his hands and knees and shook his head to clear his vision.
He heard the rebel click his tongue as he steadied his shaken mount and edged it towards the fallen Roman. Macro saw the legs of the horse clopping towards him, and the dull gleam of his blade a few feet away. He lunged for it, snatching at the handle as he rolled under the horse. The animal's belly loomed above him and Macro thrust the sword up, wincing as it struck home and blood spattered down on to his face. The horse whinnied in agony and threw itself forward. A ho of crashed down beside Macro's head as the rider desperately tried to steady his mount. A dark shape appeared beside him, and Cato thrust his blade into the small of the rebel's back.