The Gladiator

by Simon Scarrow

Cato nodded. ‘I saw. We’ll have to fend her away’ He pointed to one of the sweeps lashed to the ship’s side. ‘We can use that. Come on!’

  They hurriedly untied the simple fastenings holding the long oar in place and then manhandled the broad-bladed end over the rail, against the side of the other vessel.

  Cato took a firm grip on the shaft and braced his feet. ‘All right then, heave!’

  The three of them leaned into the long oar with all their might. Slowly, slowly, Cato sensed the other ship begin to give, and he shuffled forward a pace and called out,’She’s moving! Keep at it!’

  Burning debris was falling across the bows of the deck around them, but they could do nothing until the blazing wreck of the other ship was pushed to a safe distance. They continued to thrust the sweep against its side, chests heaving as their muscles strained, stiff and glistening from their efforts. Cato glanced up and saw that the gap between the ships had widened to ten feet.All the time the resistance decreased as he and the others steadily approached the side rail.There they fed the shaft along and continued until the other ship eased away from the oar blade. They hauled the sweep back and dropped it on the deck.The current had begun to draw the ship away from the rest of the anchored vessels and it drifted slowly towards the shore. Cato nodded with satisfaction before turning to inspect the deck. Burning debris lay scattered about the foredeck, but mercifully there was none around the hold, where the rebels had prepared their combustible materials, ready to set fire to the ship.

  ‘Get these fires out!’ Cato ordered, grabbing a length of sacking from a locker in front of the main mast. There was a water bucket there for the crew, and he hurriedly doused the sacking before running to a blackened length of rope, still alight in places. He beat out the flames and moved on, as the others followed suit. Soon the last of the small fires was out and they stood gasping as they watched the burning wreck drift away. Cato grabbed a shroud and climbed up on to the side rail. From his vantage point he could see that Atticus and the others had succeeded in cutting the other two ships free and were also fending them off. He could still feel the stinging heat even where he stood, and he briefly stared at the spectacle in awe as the brilliant flames transformed the surrounding sea into a glittering chaos of fiery reflections.

  Glancing back towards the beach, Cato could make out the details of the legionaries as they advanced past the ship that burned there. He was relieved to see that they had already taken the whole of the area enclosed by the palisade. Beyond that he could see thousands of figures running in every direction in the glow of the rebels’ camp fires. It seemed that the attack had succeeded as he had hoped.Taken by surprise, the rebels had broken and were fleeing for their lives. It was true that four of the grain ships had been lost, but that was acceptable given that the whole fleet had been at risk.

  ‘Sir!’ Vulso called to him, pointing back towards the mouth of the bay. Cato turned and his gaze followed the direction Vulso was indicating. Back through the rigging of the grain ships he could see the dark forms of other vessels approaching, and the faint sheen of a rhythmic disturbance on the sides of each, which he realised must be the banks of oars. He felt a release of tension in his body at the sight of the Roman warships and called back to Vulso.

  ‘They’re ours! It’s Navarch Balbus and his squadron.’

  Vulso let out a cheer, then passed on word of the navy’s arrival. More men joined in the cheering as Cato gathered Atticus,Vulso and Musa and hurried back across the decks of the grain ships to meet the first, and largest, of the warships to reach them. A bronze-capped ram protruding from the bows was aimed straight at the side of the ship that Cato stood on, and for a moment he feared that the warship might crash into the hull. Then he heard a shouted order, and the oars on the port side dropped down into the water and stayed there while the starboard oars continued rowing and the warship began to swing round, beam on to the grain ship.

  ‘Tribune Cato?’ a voice called out. ‘Is Tribune Cato there?’ ‘Here!’ Cato waved his arms. ‘Over here!’ ‘Thank the gods!’ He recognised Balbus’s voice, then the navarch continued,’Have the ships been taken?’ ‘All but the three on fire. There may still be some rebels hiding aboard some of the ships. Send your marines over.’ ‘Aye, sir. Have your men ready to take mooring lines.’

  One by one the warships came alongside the grain ships and the sailors cast lines to the legionaries to fasten to cleats, then the ships were hauled side to side. As soon as the boarding ramps were lowered, the marines boarded the grain ships and took charge of the prisoners and began to hunt down the remaining rebels. Balbus was one of the first men to cross over from his flagship, and he hurried up to Cato.

  ‘Good to see you again, sir.’ He saluted.

  Cato could not help grinning. ‘Sounds like you doubted that you would.’

  Balbus shrugged. ‘I’m delighted to be wrong. However, when we saw the fires I feared the worst. How many ofthe grain ships did we lose?’

  ‘Four three here and one on the beach.’

  ‘Only four?’Balbus was relieved.’ Splendid . We only had a little bit of trouble ourselves. O n e of the liburnians ran aground near the peninsula. Not bad for a night operation so close to shore.’ He puffed himself up with pride in his achievement.

  Cato glanced towards the shore. Fulvius and his men had already broken into the rebel camp and were cutting the enemy down in swathes. He turned back. ‘You take command here. Secure the grain ships and send some ofyour marines to reinforce the men ashore.’

  ‘Yes, sir. Where are you going?’

  ‘I still have one job left to do,’ Cato said quietly. ‘Try and save the hostages. If anything happens, I’ve left orders for Centurion Fulvius to take command.’

  Balbus nodded. ‘Good luck, sir.’

  Cato laughed at the navarch’s dour tone. ‘You seem to make a habit of doubting me. I’ll be back, Balbus. I give you my word.’

  ‘Good luck anyway, sir.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Cato clapped him on the shoulder, turned to Atticus and the others and led them offto find one ofthe tenders moored to the remaining grain ships.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  The tender grounded on the small strip of sand with a slight jar that sent Atticus sprawling on to his knees. ‘Shit,’ he muttered as he struggled up and then climbed over the side with the others.

  ‘Better all speak in Greek from now on,’ said Cato. ‘If we’re going to be taken for rebels.’

  They had helped themselves to some tunics from the rebel bodies on the grain ships and fastened their sword belts over the top. If anyone took the time to look hard at them, the Roman swords might look suspicious, but they could pass them off as captured kit if stopped. From the sounds of confusion and panic coming from the camp, Cato hoped that the rebels would be too busy trying to save themselves to be worried about Roman intruders in their midst.

  He indicated a rock a short distance away. ‘We’ll put the boat behind that.’

  Once he was satisfied that it was hidden from view and would still be there if they needed to make a quick escape, he led the others up towards the large tents in that part of the camp he had seen Ajax and his escort make for the previous day.The slope was rocky and dotted with shrubs and clumps of gorse that snagged their tunics as they crept forwards. At length the gradient eased and they could hear voices more clearly. There were hurried exchanges of shouts, but none of the panic and pandemonium that was evident in the main part of the camp. The ground here was sparsely covered where the rebels had ripped up the dry plants and bushes for kindling. There was a sudden rustling to their right, and Cato waved his men down and dropped to the ground himself. Ahead of them a small group of figures ran by: a man, woman and two children, all of them clutching bundles. The man looked nervously towards the top of the slope and urged the others on. They passed a short distance in front of the Romans without seeing them, and ran off into the darkness. As the sound of their footsteps faded, Cato let h
is breath out.

  ‘Come on,’ he whispered.

  They continued, and now the glow of camp fires illuminated the crest above them. Keeping low and glancing from side to side, they proceeded warily. T h e ridges of tents were visible over the crest, and Cato made towards a small outcrop of boulders that would conceal them as they took in the situation. There turned out to be a natural gap between the boulders wide enough for two men to lie down, and Cato ordered the legionaries to stay back while he crawled forward with Atticus. The rocks stood on a slight rise and the position gave them a good view over the flat area of ground that the enemy commander had chosen for his tent and those of his bodyguards. The largest tents were surrounded by an open area, then smaller shelters, and off to one side a small shack and pens that seemed to have been abandoned many years ago. A number of camp fires were burning down, having been abandoned in the rush to counter the Roman attack. As Cato surveyed the scene, he could see several figures close to the largest tent; some were armed with spears, and an old woman squatted to one side hurriedly loading possessions on to a blanket that lay open on the ground. Other rebels were visible flitting through the shelters as they ran from the Roman forces advancing round the bay. Cato could not help wondering what these fugitives might hope to achieve. When they reached the end of the peninsula they would be trapped.

  ‘What now?’ muttered Atticus. ‘Where do you think Macro and the senator’s daughter are being kept?’

  ‘It has to be somewhere close to his tent.’ Cato recalled the savage glee in the gladiator’s eyes as he contemplated the suffering ofMacro and Julia. ‘He’d want them nearby, near enough to sense their torment. Somewhere he could keep an eye on them. In one of the tents perhaps, or in those pens. We have to get closer.’

  Atticus nodded. ‘Best circle round then, sir. Come up behind the pens from where there’s not so much light from the fires.’

  Catoexaminedtheground.’ Y e s .You’reright.Let’sgo.’ They shuffled back, rejoinedVulso and Musa, and then the four of them moved through the scrub on the fringes of the tents, in a long arc round to the far side of the peninsula. There were many more fugitives streaming up the hill from the direction of the main camp, and by some unspoken mutual consent the small party of Romans and the fleeing rebels warily shifted some distance round each other in the shadows, then hurried on. At last Cato saw that the pens were in line with the largest tents, and gestured to the men following him. ‘Let’s get in closer.’

  They padded through the outermost shelters: makeshift tents spread over crudely cut frames, nearly all empty after the initial rush down towards the battle being fought on the other side of the bay. Some were not empty, however, and Cato felt his flesh freeze at the sound of a shrill shriek, before he realised it was an infant crying. A woman murmured gently and the crying quickly died away. There were others amongst the shelters, fleeing from the camp, who had taken the chance to pause long enough to ransack some of the empty tents they were passing through. Cato nearly tripped over one of them, a man bent down in the shadows as he dragged a large silver bowl through some tent flaps. Cato stopped in his tracks. The man jumped to his feet, where the glow from the fires lit up his features. A wrinkled face, half hidden by shaggy hair, and an unkempt beard. He snarled, revealing a handful of jagged teeth.

  ‘Look out, sir!’ Atticus pushed Cato aside as the rebel lashed out with a knife. Cato heard it swish close to his ear, and then there was a dull crunch as Atticus floored the man with a punch. As the rebel collapsed unconscious to the ground, the optio snatched the knife from his fingers and drew it back, ready to cut the man’s throat.

  ‘No.’ Cato held his arm. ‘Leave him. Let’s go on.’

  The pens were only a short distance ahead of them, and Cato weaved cautiously through the remaining shelters until they reached the rear of the structures. Beyond them the ground was open all the way to where the group ofmen were gathered in front ofwhat Cato assumed to be the gladiator’s personal tent. They were watching the destruction of their comrades down in the camp, and talking in anxious tones, though Cato could not catch the sense of what they were saying. The walls of the pens stood as tall as his shoulders, and he knew that ifhe stood up to peer over the walls to look for Macro and Julia he was almost sure to be seen.

  He rose up as high as he dared and called out softly, ‘Julia? . . . Macro?’

  There was no reply. He called again, a little louder this time. Still there was no reply.

  ‘They’re not in there,’ Atticus muttered. ‘No.’ ‘So what do we do?’ ‘Keep looking,’ Cato said firmly, and edged along behind the pens until he reached a gap where he could crawl forwards and look round from the safety of the shadows. He saw it almost at once – a cage a short distance from the largest tent and away from the other shelters. It was on the highest point of the camp, exposed to the elements. Cato edged back as yet more rebels fled past.The Romans flattened themselves to the ground and lay still. Once the rebels had gone, Cato turned to the others.

  ‘I know where they are: Macro and Julia.’ He told Atticus and the others about the cage.

  ‘Did you actually see them?’ the optio asked. Cato shook his head. ‘Too dark. But where else could they be?’ ‘I’m beginning to think they could be anywhere. Pretty soon this place is going to be overrun with slaves fleeing up from the main camp. We’d best find the hostages as soon as we can, sir.’

  ‘Then let’s move.’ Cato gestured with his hand and rose into a crouch, making his way back a short distance from the pens and in amongst a cluster of the shelters. He paused to let the others catch up, then the small party continued through the last of the huts and along the slope, out of sight of the tents. To their right the sea was a dark mass, and the sound of the waves breaking on the rocks below came clearly to their ears. When Cato judged that they were parallel to the cage, he led them back up the slope, cautiously picking his way through the stunted bushes and rocks. Someone shouted a warning, then there were more raised voices, and Cato paused for a moment until he realised they could not have been seen.A few more steps and then the ground evened out and they could see the cage, twenty paces away. Beyond that there was a patch of open ground and the side of the tent with the men forming a screen before it as they fended off a stream of rebels rushing past. For the moment none of them were watching the cage. Cato squinted and saw the dark shape of a bulky figure within, slumped against the bars. Hope made his heart beat faster, then he felt a chill of fear as he realised that there was only one person in the cage, unquestionably male.

  ‘Macro?’ he called out. The figure stirred, then replied gruffly, ‘Who’s that?’ Cato released a sharp breath of relief. ‘It’s Cato.’ ‘Cato?’ Macro’s voice was strained. ‘By all the gods, let it be true.’ ‘Just a moment.’ Cato turned to Atticus. ‘You come with me.

  Musa, Vulso, you keep watch. Let me know if anyone comes.’ Cato kept low as he scuttled across the open ground, closely followed by Atticus. They kept a watchful eye on the rebels, but no one looked in their direction. As he reached the cage, Cato’s nose wrinkled at the stench ofhuman waste. He dropped down beside the bars, opposite Macro. ‘It really is you.’ Macro’s voice rasped. ‘Thought I was going mad.

  Get me out of here.’ ‘Where’s Julia?’ ‘In the tent. Ajax sent for her. Had her cleaned up first.’ Cato felt the blood go cold in his veins. ‘Did he . . .?’ ‘How the hell do I know?’ Macro shook his head. ‘Get me out of here and we’ll go and rescue her.’ Cato examined the door to the cage. ‘Damn, it’s locked.’ ‘Of course it’s fucking locked,’ Macro hissed. ‘Why else would I still be in here?’ Atticus chuckled. ‘Nice change to see you locked up.’

  ‘Who’s that with you?’ asked Macro. ‘Not that twat Atticus?’ ‘The same.’ Atticus grinned.

  ‘Bloody great,’ Macro muttered. He fixed his gaze on his friend. ‘Cato . . . thanks.’

  ‘You didn’t think I’d leave you to die?’

  Macro was silent for a
moment before he replied. ‘There were times when I gave up hope.’

  ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’ Macro chuckled drily.

  Cato grasped the bars ofthe cage door and gritted his teeth as he strained to prise them open. He gave up with a bitter grunt. ‘We need the key.Who has it?’

  ‘One of the guards, over there.’ Macro pointed him out. ‘If I can get him to come over here, can you two handle him?’

  ‘We’ll have to.’ Cato crouched down behind Macro, and indicated to Atticus to lie flat.

  Macro grasped the bars of the cage, drew a deep breath and bellowed, ‘Guard! Guard! Over here!’ He paused a moment and repeated his cry, shaking the bars more violently. One of the men by the tent turned in his direction and then spoke to the rebel who had been tasked with watching Macro and Julia since their capture. He picked up his spear and wearily approached the cage.

  ‘Keep it down, Roman!’

  ‘Fuck you!’ Macro shouted back and shook the bars again. ‘Fuck that old hag of a mother of yours!’

  The guard paused and then growled with anger as he ran towards the cage and lowered the tip of his spear.

  ‘Shit . . .’ Macro just had time to mutter, before the spearhead rattled through the bars, and he dodged to one side to avoid it. Instantly he snatched at the spear shaft and thrust it to one side.The other end swivelled sharply, and caught the guard off balance so he tumbled over and crashed into the side of the cage. Macro released the shaft and thrust his arms through the cage, grasping the guard round the neck and hauling him up against the bars as he flailed at Macro’s brawny forearms.

  ‘Get him!’ Macro grunted. ‘Before he works loose.’

  Atticus was up first, scrambling round the end of the cage and dropping heavily on the guard, driving the breath from his body as Macro tightened his grip, choking the rebel. He struggled violently for a moment and then went limp. There was a shout from the direction ofAjax’s tent, and Cato saw that the other rebels were looking across the open ground. As soon as they realised what was happening, they snatched up their weapons and began to sprint towards the cage.