The Gladiator

by Simon Scarrow

  ‘I am sure of it.’ Sempronius softened his expression. ‘Now, there are slightly more pressing problems to be faced before we worry too much about this gladiator of yours.’

  ‘Really?’ Macro raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Yes, really,’ Sempronius replied testily. ‘We still have to contend with that fool Marcus Glabius. I’ve managed to persuade him to hand the governor’s palace over to me, but he’s occupied the acropolis, and keeps himselfsurrounded by bodyguards. He has also taken charge of the food supplies and had them moved to the storerooms in the acropolis. And while he controls the food, he controls Gortyna, and to a degree the troops under my command, since I am required to go to him for the men’s rations. Now, I might have been prepared to overlook such issues if Glabius was feeding the people and helping them recover from the earthquake, but he isn’t. He has been protecting the property of his friends, and openly permitting them to exploit the food shortage by hoarding supplies, while he uses the provincial treasury to buy grain and meat at vastly inflated prices for distribution to the poor. Some of the grain is ruined and the meat is rotten. It’s an intolerable state of affairs,’ Sempronius concluded.

  ‘Then why do you tolerate it, sir?’ asked Cato.

  ‘Why?’ Sempronius rose from his desk and made for the door to the courtyard. ‘Come with me and I’ll show you why’

  He led them into the centre ofthe stable courtyard and turned to point at the acropolis built on a nearby hill that dominated the centre of the city. A narrow track wound its way up the steep slope to the gate, which was protected by sturdy towers on each side. ‘As you can see, Glabius has picked himself a safe spot to sit out the crisis. It would take an army to seize the acropolis, and he has all the provisions to withstand a siege while I have none to mount one. Besides, it would be madness to use force to bring Glabius to heel, given the problems we already face.’

  ‘So what is your plan, sir?’ asked Macro.

  ‘My plan is to gather enough soldiers here to ensure that there is no popular uprising provoked by the ineptitude of Glabius, Also, I intend to restore order to the farms and estates of the southern part of the island, and round up those slaves you seem so concerned about. Once that has been achieved, then I will settle matters with Glabius.’

  Cato shook his head. ‘I doubt that would be a good idea, if you don’t mind my saying?’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Glabius is a tax collector, sir.You know how well connected they are back in Rome.You would risk making some dangerous enemies if you took him on.’

  ‘And I risk losing control of the province if I don’t.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Cato conceded. The senator was in an impossible position.

  Sempronius stared up at the acropolis with a weary expression before he continued. ‘I sent a full report on the situation here to Romethis morning. I said that I would wait for further instructions before dealing with Glabius.’

  Macro and Cato exchanged a quick glance. The senator was taking the easy way out by waiting for orders; disowning respon- sibility for affairs in Crete. It might take as much as two months for a reply to reach Gortyna. In that time Glabius would be free to continue exploiting the situation, endangering the security of not only the province but the rest of the empire as well, once news of the collapse of authority on the island leaked out across the Mediter- ranean. It was essential that the senator realised the need to remove Glabius. Even if that made him enemies back in Rome, Cato reflected.

  He cleared his throat. ‘Sir, I don’t think we can afford to wait for instructions from Rome. We will have to act long before then. Before Glabius stirs up too much hostility amongst the local people.’

  Sempronius cocked an eyebrow. ‘What do you propose we do then?’

  The shift in authority from the senator to his subordinate was not lost on Macro, and he had to force himself not to show his surprise as Cato made his reply.

  ‘We have to take control of the food stocks up there, sir. That means we have to arrest Glabius, and disarm his bodyguards. Once that’s done, we can be sure that the people will be on our side.’

  While we make enemies of Glabius’s friends?’ Sempronius paused. ‘Both here and back in Rome.’

  ‘Can’t be helped. Besides, the mathematics of the situation is quite clear, sir. There are more hungry people than there are friends of Glabius. W h o would you rather have on your side?’

  Sempronius pressed his lips together and glanced at the others, before turning to stare helplessly at the walls of the acropolis. Julia cleared her throat and gently took her father’s hand. ‘Cato’s right. You must act. Soon.’

  The senator was silent for a moment before he nodded slowly. ‘Very well. Glabius will be dealt with.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The following morning, Senator Sempronius met with his senior military officers. In addition to Macro and Cato, there were the commanders of the three auxiliary cohorts. The prefect of the Batavian cavalry, Marcellus, was a slender, hard-looking veteran with silver hair and piercing dark eyes. T h e detachments of the two infantry cohorts were led by centurions, Albinus and Plotius, men who had served with their units since first signing up. Unfortunate, since Macro had hoped they might have been promoted to their present rank from the legions.

  ‘Pity,’ he muttered to Cato as the senator made the introductions. ‘But we’ll have to make do.’

  Sempronius glanced at him irritably as he continued. ‘Macro is the acting prefect of the Twelfth Hispania at Matala. Centurion Cato is serving as my military aide and chief of staff.’

  Marcellus looked searchingly at Cato for a moment. ‘Might I ask the substantive rank of Macro and Cato?’

  ‘Of course.’ Sempronius nodded. ‘Both hold legionary rank, pending reappointment to new units once they return to Rome.’

  ‘I see.’ Marcellus nodded with a small smile of satisfaction. ‘Then, as prefect, I am the senior officer present.’

  ‘You are, technically,’ Sempronius replied in an even tone. ‘However, as the senior office-holder in the province, I have the final word in matters ofcommand. For the present I am content to permit Macro to retain command of our forces.’

  ‘I have to protest, sir. Macro is only an acting prefect. I am a permanent holder of that rank. Therefore I should be in command.’ ‘Yourprotest is noted, Prefect Marcellus; however, I have made my decision. Prefect Macro will lead my men.’ ‘I see.’ Marcellus nodded. ‘I’d like that noted in writing, sir.’

  ‘Would you?’ Sempronius looked surprised for a moment, before he recovered. ‘Are you sure about that?’

  The other man returned his stare steadily and then shook his head. ‘I suppose not. After all, what difference does it make? There aren’t likely to be any rewards handed out to the commanders as a result of our actions in this crisis.’

  ‘Quite,’ Sempronius replied. ‘This is a simple policing matter, gentlemen. Our goals are to enforce order, feed the people and recapture the slaves who have run away from their masters. That is all.’ He glanced round at his subordinates. ‘Having considered the situation, I have made the following plans to achieve our goals.The Batavian horse and the Fifth Gallic will be tasked with hunting down the fugitive slaves and any brigands that are preying on the people and property of this province.’ He paused, and chewed his lip for a moment before continuing. ‘Prefect Marcellus will command this force.’

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

  ‘I did.’ ‘Then shouldn’t I 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 w
ill 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.’

  ‘ S o 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 from each 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 ofmy faith in you so much as my lack oftrust 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 Romea 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 lengthening 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.

  A vague movement to his side drew Macro’s attention and he saw a file ofauxiliary troops stealing along the narrow alleys that threaded the houses and small shops crowding under the looming mass of the acropolis. This part of the city had not suffered nearly as badly as the rest, but even so, Centurion Plotius and his men would be forced to pick their way quietly over the occasional heaps of rubble in order not to alert the sentries on the walls above them.

  The two guards at the gate rose to their feet and hefted their spears as the senator and his followers approached. Cato saw that they were big, heavy men with the broken noses of boxers, or perhaps from time spent in the street gangs that were a feature of every large city across the empire.They moved to bar the way to the closed gate and one
raised his hand to halt Sempronius.

  ‘State your business, sir,’ he said bluntly. ‘I’m here to see Marcus Glabius. He is expecting me.’ T h e guard smiled faintly as he replied. ‘Governor Marcus Glabius left word to admit you, sir. He said nothing about any companions.’

  Sempronius bit back on his anger. ‘These men are my personal secretaries. I need them to make notes at the meeting. Now let us through.’

  The senator took a step towards the gate.The guard whistled and the other man on duty blocked their path.

  ‘Get out of my way’ Sempronius growled.

  ‘ N o t so fast, sir,’ said the first guard. ‘I have to search these bags before I let you enter.’

  He turned to Macro and Cato and nodded towards their haver- sacks. ‘Put ‘em on the ground and step back two paces.’

  They did as they were told and watched as the guard knelt down, opened each bag in turn and rummaged through the waxed slates and styli before flipping the flaps back and stepping away. ‘Pick ‘em up.’

  Cato could sense Macro bristling with anger at his side as they retrieved their bags, and willed his friend to control his temper. T h e guard approached the gates and bellowed out the order for them to be opened. There was a dull grating from inside as the locking bolt was slid aside, and a moment later one of the doors groaned on its hinges as it swung inwards. The guards stepped aside as Sempronius clicked his fingers and led Macro and Cato into the acropolis.

  Like many Greek cities, the acropolis was dominated by temples and shrines to those gods most revered by the local people. In addition, there were a number of administration buildings and barracks built close to the walls that ran around the edge of the hill. There were no priests in view. A handful of men dressed in comfortable tunics were sitting in the shade of a grove as they drank wine from a slender-necked amphora.

  ‘Seems like the quality of Gortyna are doing all right,’ Macro muttered.

  A large group clustered around a game of dice outside one of the barrack blocks, and another six men were patrolling along the walls, occasionally glancing down over the city, or out across the plains in the direction of Matala, and up into the hills behind Gortyna. The earthquake had flattened one of the smaller temples, and large sections of the roofs of the others had fallen in. The two-storey administration building was largely intact, save for the portico, which had collapsed and now lay in piles of rubble on either side of the entrance.