The Gladiator Gambit

by Gavin Chappell

  She shook her head, confused. ‘I don’t know why I did that,’ she said. ‘I was bringing you here so you could be questioned.’

  ‘You were bringing me?’ Tiro’s face fell. ‘I thought Maccabeus was in charge.’

  She shook her head. ‘I told Maccabeus to act as if he was,’ she explained, ‘but it was me who was taking you to the encampment. You were getting too close to the truth, for all that I had tried to distract you with investigating Petrus’ murder. At first I tried to get rid of you by reporting your spying to Apuleius Victor, but that didn’t work. I received a message from Arctos that it was was time you were taken where the truth could be wrested from you. But then we were pursued by the Bucolics. Maccabeus died. We were captured. I thought it better that I get to the encampment and leave you…’

  ‘To be eaten by anthropophagi? That’s one way to get rid of a spy.’

  ‘You weren’t eaten, were you?’ she said defiantly. ‘You’re still alive.’

  ‘That’s right,’ he conceded. ‘Kalasiris and his people were perfect gentlemen. They don’t really like eating people, it’s just a tradition during war time, or rebellions. It strikes fear into the heart of the enemy. But they thought I was more valuable as a bargaining counter.’

  ‘I betrayed you,’ said Camilla repentantly. ‘And then they betrayed you too. It’s no wonder that you find it hard to trust people.’

  Tiro nodded. She shook her head uncomprehendingly. ‘I have not lived a happy life,’ she admitted. ‘But I have never been betrayed like that. I feel pity for you, Tiro.’

  ‘Pity enough to help me?’ he said quickly.

  She stared at him for a long time. Then shook her head.

  ‘I can’t set you free,’ she told him. ‘I can’t help you. Brutus would…’

  ‘Ah,’ he said, nodding wisely. ‘Brutus.’ His eyes widened. ‘But you weren’t happy when he beat me. I noticed that as I was dragged from that place. And Brutus wasn’t happy that you were unhappy.’

  ‘He was my first,’ she told him in a rush. ‘You don’t know what that means to a woman. Yes, he beat me. He broke my nose one time…’

  ‘You told me,’ said Tiro. He laid a hand on her arm. ‘And you love him?’

  ‘He only beat me,’ she explained, ‘because I needed it. I needed toughening. He beat the womanliness out of me. Well, he tried. “You can’t be weak and womanly and wield a sword in the arena,” he told me. “One day, we gladiators will rule,” he kept saying.’

  Tiro laughed. ‘Gladiators rule? Rule what, the empire?’

  ‘You’re a gladiator, too,’ she pointed out.

  ‘Thanks for the reminder,’ he said drily. ‘I may be a gladiator but I don’t expect to rule anywhere. Why does he think gladiators will rule?’

  ‘A sibyl told him,’ she said. ‘A wise woman in his village. She foresaw a time when the emperor would be a gladiator. He thinks it will be him.’

  ‘Impossible,’ Tiro scoffed.

  ‘The mob looks up to us,’ Camilla grunted. ‘And the mob decides who is emperor, not the Senate.’

  ‘I think the Praetorians have some say in the matter,’ Tiro suggested.

  ‘And Brutus knows the secret of the empire,’ said Camilla.

  Tiro’s face went pale. ‘The secret of the empire?’

  The door opened. Camilla wheeled round. Standing there was Brutus, his face dark.

  ‘He who controls Egypt controls the empire,’ the Sicanian announced..’ And soon we will control Egypt.’ Brutus struck Camilla across the mouth. ‘Why are you talking to this spy? Are you a spy too?’

  Camilla put a hand to her lips. It came away bloody.

  ‘There was no call for that,’ she said slowly.

  Brutus swaggered up to her. ‘I think you need teaching a…’ He broke off at a trumpet blast from outside.

  ‘Arctos!’ he exclaimed, turning to the door. ‘He’s here!’

  He was about to leave, but then Syphax bustled in, urging the two guards after him. He shut the door and gave Brutus a look.

  ‘We stay inside when Arctos comes,’ he said. ‘You know that! Nobody sees his face.’

  Another trumpet blast resounded from outside.

  —30—

  ‘How can Arctos give you orders,’ Tiro asked conversationally, ‘if you never see his face?’

  ‘Silence, Tiro,’ said Camilla, although she was wondering this herself. Arctos had sent her messages in cipher, but she had never met him.

  ‘Only I am privileged enough to speak to him,’ said Brutus. ‘Even then, he wears the helmet of a murmillo when I am permitted to enter his presence, as do the men who come with him.’

  ‘Security arrangements like those,’ said Tiro thoughtfully, ‘suggest that he has something to hide; namely his face. Who is he? Someone who we’ll recognise?’

  ‘You won’t recognise anyone,’ Syphax assured him; ‘You won’t be seeing him. We won’t let a spy like you anywhere near him.’

  A fanfare broke the ensuing silence. Brutus looked up. ‘That’s the call to assemble outside Arctos’ hut.’ He turned to go. ‘Syphax, come with me. Camilla, you come too. You two’—he pointed at the guards— ‘stay here. And stay awake.’

  He led the others from the reed hut. As she followed Camilla looked back to see Tiro stoically sitting back down on the packed earth floor of the hut.

  Outside it was bright and sunny, and beams of light shone through the trees in the middle of the encampment. At one end of this stood the largest of the huts. Outside the entrance were two big gladiators who Camilla had not seen before. Both held trumpets. She guessed that they had accompanied Arctos here while everyone was in the huts and tents.

  Filtering into the area were the rest of the gladiators and Egyptians. Kalasiris had been brought there under guard.

  ‘What’s he doing here?’ Brutus barked. A guard said he had brought the Egyptian in case there were any orders concerning him. The other Egyptians had been sent inside a tent, under guard. ‘Orders?’ Brutus scoffed. ‘We have yet to tell Arctos about him. Keep him here. Bring him forward at my order.’ He addressed the group. ‘You know what to do. Stay here in silence while I speak with our leader.’

  He walked towards the hut. At his approach the two gladiators on guard stiffened, and one drew a wickedly gleaming sword.

  ‘Who goes there?’ he asked.

  ‘A son of Spartacus,’ said Brutus.

  ‘Pass, friend.’ The gladiator relaxed and sheathed his sword. They both stepped aside and Brutus ducked inside the hut.

  Camilla watched, Syphax at her side. Who was Arctos? Tiro had been right. All these security precautions—no one allowed to see his face. He must be someone important—someone who would be compromised if anyone recognised him. Did he fear spies? Or did he have something else to hide?

  She heard muted conversation from within the hut. The men stood in silence. The two gladiators stared straight ahead of them. The sun began to descend. Insects zipped by. A warm wind stirred the trees. Camilla edged closer to the hut, listening intently, but could hear nothing. Syphax followed her.

  The bead curtain covering the doorway hissed as Brutus stepped outside and gazed round at the assembled rebels.

  ‘Arctos has nothing to say,’ he told them. ‘Get back to your work.’

  Grumbling, the gladiators moved away. Camilla and Syphax remained.

  ‘Why has he returned?’ Syphax asked. ‘Are we going to attack? What is the plan? What of this important visitor?’

  ‘Arctos does not yet know when the visitor will come,’ Brutus said. ‘It will be sometime during the festivities, but he cannot yet say which day. He came here,’ he went on, ‘because the city became too dangerous. He had to flee, but he brought with him all the money.’

  ‘Money?’ said Camilla. ‘What money?’

  Brutus gave her an irritable look. ‘The money needed to equip our fighters,’ he said, leading them away, ‘and for bribes. It’s an expensive business, revolution. The civic
guard were onto him. We think that Apuleius Victor betrayed us.’

  ‘I never trusted him,’ said Syphax.

  ‘You were his right-hand man,’ Camilla taunted him. ‘His faithful hound. He and you were close enough to be lovers.’

  ‘I let everyone think that,’ said Syphax, narrowing his eyes. ‘I did his bidding. He infiltrated one of the gangs, with my help…’

  ‘You let him infiltrate the syndicate?’ Brutus was incredulous. ‘I knew nothing of this.’

  ‘I had to,’ Syphax hissed. ‘Otherwise he would have suspected my loyalties. The gang helped him remove people who threatened him. In return, he looked the other way when games were fixed.’

  Camilla had also been unaware of this. ‘What of Petrus? Did they… were they the ones…?’

  ‘What is this bleating?’ Brutus said impatiently. ‘Petrus? What of him? Why didn’t you bring him?’

  ‘Petrus is dead,’ said Syphax. ‘They killed him because he was snooping.’

  Camilla’s eyes widened. ‘With Apuleius Victor’s aid? With your aid?’

  Syphax inclined his head, unashamed. ‘They gave us asp venom, I coated my blade with it. In the fight I wounded him. Only a scratch, but it was enough.’

  ‘And you bribed the medic to say the death was of natural causes,’ Camilla grunted.

  Brutus snarled. ‘If Apuleius Victor was investigating the syndicates, that would explain it! He must have blabbed to the prefect’s men in the civic guard. Only Arctos and two others escaped. Luckily, he brought the money with him. Most of it, at least.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ said Camilla, bewildered. ‘What money? Where did it come from?’

  ‘Gambling, of course,’ said Syphax. ‘Arctos gained control of all the syndicates in Alexandria. Through his agents, he rigged the games and the races, and cleaned up through exploiting the foolishness of gamblers.’

  ‘I thought we were going to make a better empire,’ Camilla said bitterly to Brutus. ‘Are you saying that Arctos is a criminal?’

  Brutus seized her. ‘Never let me hear you say that again, do you hear?’ He shook her violently. ‘Arctos used the vices of the Romans against them. Now we have money. For weapons and armour.’ He tapped his finger on Camilla’s armguard. ‘Do you think we could face legionaries in the field armoured like gladiators?’

  She shook her head. ‘Our armour is more for show than defence.’

  ‘So now we must have better armour,’ said Brutus, ‘armour as good as that worn by legionaries. Now that we have money.’

  ‘Who will supply the armour?’ asked Camilla.

  ‘You’ve asked enough questions,’ Brutus told her. ‘Let us just say that Rome has her enemies, and south of here is a land where ironworking is common. Now, get back to your training. The moment to strike could be any day.’

  Camilla walked away, deep in thought. The only land south of Egypt she had ever heard of was Ethiopia, a constellation of kingdoms inhabited by folk like Syphax. Were they to supply the arms and armour? It would take a long time to transport it, unless deals had already been struck. She knew very little about what was going on.

  So Petrus’ death had resulted from the machinations of Arctos’ crime syndicates; and Apuleius Victor and Syphax had played their parts.

  She wished she had someone to talk to. Her feelings were complex and confusing. Most of all, however, she was feeling betrayed.

  Flaminius lay on the hard-packed earth of the reed hut, mind a whirl. He had got so close and yet he was so far away from completing his mission. He’d known battle and betrayal, and now he was a prisoner. From what Camilla and the others had said, the mysterious Arctos was nearby—and yet who was he? He certainly believed in security. It seemed unlikely that Camilla or any of the other rebels could tell him who the man was. So who could he be? These precautions suggested he was someone widely known.

  He considered the prefect, Haterius Nepos. The man was powerful in Egypt, second only to the emperor himself. Could he be plotting to oust Hadrian?

  But there was a very simple reason that Arctos could not be the prefect. Haterius Nepos was an equestrian, like Flaminius himself, of the middle rank in Roman society, above the mob but beneath the senators. The Roman senate would never accept an equestrian as emperor, even if he did control the city’s grain supply. They would accept one of their own as long as he had the support of the legions. But never a man beneath them in dignity. That was why the prefecture of Egypt, with all the power it entailed, was always assigned to a man of equestrian rank. Snobbery was a strong force in Roman politics, a very strong force.

  Arctos must be someone important, all the same. And yet the only man in the province of senatorial rank, incidentally with military might at his back, was Avidius Pollio. A chill ran down Flaminius’ sweaty backbone. Could it be him? Could it really be that the man who had sent him on his mission was behind the plot itself?

  Flaminius shook his head. He had known some convoluted conspiracies in his time, but this one just didn’t make sense. Apart from anything, if Avidius Pollio intended to seize power in Egypt in preparation for taking over the empire, why would he waste his time recruiting gladiators and Bucolics?

  Flaminius pounded the ground with his fist. So near and yet so far. If he could only escape, maybe at night, and go to Arctos’ hut. If he could just get a glimpse of the man, it might all fall into place. Maybe he would recognise him. Then…steal a boat…sail back across the flooded countryside to Alexandria…warn the authorities…

  He went still. Voices could be heard outside. Narrowing his eyes, he tried to make out what they were saying.

  ‘…orders from Arctos to questions the prisoner…’

  He was to be questioned? So Arctos knew about him. He heard a clank of armour and then a figure stepped in through the bead curtain.

  ‘You again,’ he muttered, recognising Camilla. ‘You’re going to continue your interrogation?’

  She crouched down beside him. ‘This is no interrogation, Tiro.’

  ‘You told the guards you were here to question me for Arctos. Alright then, what does he want to know? Not that I’ll tell you anything. You tried before, didn’t you? Playing on my sympathies…’

  ‘Will you stop your yammering?’ Camilla placed her hand over his mouth. ‘You must trust me. I trust you! You are the only one I can trust here.’

  Flaminius moved back, and she dropped her hand. ‘It’s too late for trust. You betrayed me. And now you expect me to talk to you? When you can come and go as you please? You’re obviously high in Arctos’ favour.’

  Camilla sat down. ‘I shouldn’t be here,’ she said. ‘Those guards are too easily fooled. If I was Arctos, I would have them flogged.’

  Flaminius sat back. He had no reason to trust this woman. And yet, what did she want with him?

  ‘When does the interrogation begin?’ he asked.

  ‘You remember we tried to find out who killed Petrus?’

  He nodded. ‘It was Syphax, working for Apuleius Victor. Apuleius Victor is…’ He halted. He couldn’t reveal the man’s true identity.

  ‘So you know?’ Her eyes widened. ‘You know who Apuleius Victor really is?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘he told me. Unless…you’re not telling me he’s Arctos, are you?’

  She laughed. ‘No,’ she said. ‘He’s not. But he was working for him.’

  Flaminius went cold. ‘Working for him? For Arctos? But he…’

  ‘And he was also working for the prefect.’

  Flaminius relaxed. ‘That much I did know,’ he admitted. ‘But I didn’t realise that he was working for Arctos. I know he was mixed up with that gang, but he told me he was trying to find out who was behind the gambling rings.’

  ‘I can tell you that,’ said Camilla, glancing over her shoulder. ‘It’s Arctos.’

  ‘Arctos?’ Flaminius thought rapidly. ‘That would explain a lot of things. But one big question: who is Arctos?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she sa
id, ‘I did catch a glimpse of him, but I didn’t recognise him. I…’ She broke off and cocked her head to listen.

  ‘I’m telling you,’ Syphax’s voice was saying, ‘Arctos wants the prisoner taken to him for questioning.’

  ‘And I’m telling you,’ the guard was saying, ‘he’s already being questioned, right now.’

  Camilla turned urgently to Flaminius.

  —31—

  ‘Get back against that wall.’ Flaminius pointed at a spot to one side of the doorway.

  ‘But they’ll find me…’

  Flaminius shoved her in the direction indicated and strode through the bead curtain to find Syphax in urgent discussion with the two guards.

  ‘How long am I going to be kept in here? I demand to be set free.’

  Syphax smiled. ‘You’re not going to be freed, Tiro, or whatever your name is, but you are going to come for a little walk.

  The gladiators menaced Flaminius. ‘Get back in the hut!’

  ‘No!’ said Syphax. ‘He’s coming with me. Arctos wants him.’

  He knocked their blades down with his own sword, then took Flaminius by the arm. ‘You can guard him on the way to the big hut,’ the Nubian added generously.

  As the Roman spy was led across the encampment towards Arctos’ hut, the two guards fell into line behind him and Syphax. A glance over Flaminius’ shoulder revealed Camilla slipping away from the hut. He breathed more easily after that.

  Syphax noticed the change. ‘You’ve got nothing to relax about,’ he told him with a sneer.

  Brutus stood outside the hut. Incongruously, the Sicanian looked anxious. ‘Arctos wants to talk with you,’ he said, looking Flaminius up and down. ‘He wants to talk to you’—and he pointed at the hut— ‘in there.’

  ‘Face to face?’ Flaminius asked.

  ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you, spy?’ Brutus spat. ‘You’d like to see his face.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you?’ Flaminius said. When Brutus didn’t answer, he added, ‘Have you ever seen it?’