Spartacus

by Robert Southworth

  If he had remained conscious Cassian would have seen the net hook around the weapon arm of Colossus and Spartacus, who had picked the weapon from the floor, use all his strength to pull and turn the giant round to face him. Up in the stands, in his private viewing area, Dido angrily jumped to his feet.

  ‘No! You stupid bastard finish Cassian.’ He slapped a servant girl to the floor, his anger on view for all to see. Melachus was tempted to throw his master from the platform but settled for helping the girl to her feet.

  Colossus stared at Spartacus, his anger writhing like snakes in his gut. He charged, swinging the deadly hammer as he did so. Spartacus rolled out of the way, the weapon whistling by just above his head. The crowd cheered for another life had been taken. Plinius had felt, once again, great joy as the crowd cheered his name as his vanquished enemy lay dead at his feet. He moved to help Spartacus, but a motion from the man told him to hold his ground. The crowd cheered the gesture, realising this was a battle between titans, with death being the only outcome. Both would fight to the bitter end with no quarter asked or given. The hatred each felt for one another was evident with every blow. The blows came thick and fast, both wielding them with precision and power, the upper hand switching from one to the other with regular occurrence.

  Spartacus had already killed two opponents but, if the Gods ruled the skies, then he was the God of the arena. He moved with the grace and power of a lion and Colossus was getting tired. Each blow Colossus threw was designed to destroy his opponent but Spartacus seemed to read them all. Colossus overstretched, trying too hard to score a hit, knowing his strength was failing him. Spartacus took advantage. His blow was not like the meagre blow Cassian had delivered, but a slash to the back of both legs that saw the huge man brought to his knees. His weapons dropped from his hands and he looked up to the skies. For a moment beautiful clouds held his view but then a figure came from them. It was Spartacus, he had leapt high into the sky to bring down a blow. His sword cleaved through the helmet of Colossus, it continued down and all was torn apart, the sword not coming to a stop until it finally found rest on the sternum of Colossus. A giant may have died but the crowd cheered the giant of the arena.

  Spartacus acknowledged the crowd but his thoughts were for his men. He quickly moved to them. Both Cassian and Aegis were bleeding heavily, the pain suffered by both was evident for all to see. Bull was still unconscious. Although Spartacus could see no external injuries, he still worried that the man had received a blow which left the type of internal injury which healers could not see, let alone heal. He glanced to the stands, to see Dido milking the applause of the crowd and he looked happy. Why shouldn't he be, the arena had just witnessed one of the greatest bouts in its history. His enemy lay on the sand bleeding, most likely he would die of his wounds.

  Dido wanted him to die but hoped the time before death would be slow and painful. That would teach the Roman to dare to challenge Dido of Utica. He straightened his back and raised his chin in self importance, the crowd cheered his name.

  Chapter 22

  The victory in the arena, no matter how great, seemed hollow and distant. Spartacus and Plinius stalked nervously outside the enclosure, waiting for news of their comrades inside receiving treatment for their injuries. Bull lay still unconscious, soundly asleep unaware of the hardships two of his friends now endured. Cassian had lost a lot of blood and the healers tried vigorously to clean and bind the wound. By far the worst was Aegis, his hand totally shattered and, at that very moment, he was being held down, a saw poised to take the hand off for it had long since passed the point of saving. The screaming started and Plinius made to enter the enclosure.

  ‘Steady friend, there is nothing we can do in there. Let the butchers have their way, for this time they speak the truth. Aegis must lose the hand or lose his life.’ As he spoke he held Plinius and prevented him from going further. At first he struggled but then his body went limp knowing what Spartacus said to be true. The rasp of the saw came to an end and, as it did so, the screaming slowed and then stopped, to be replaced by a gentle whimper. It was accompanied by the groaning of Cassian as the bandages were pulled tight over his wound.

  Spartacus steered Plinius towards the fire and made him sit. He poured a large goblet of wine and insisted Plinius drank. He paused and let the wine calm the boy.

  ‘We need to talk,’ Spartacus began quietly, ‘for we have a problem.’

  ‘Really! I hadn't noticed?’ Plinius remarked, his tone more severe than he meant it to be, he was angry at the situation his friends were in. His emotions were raw, he wished he had disposed of his opponent quicker in the area and then maybe he would have prevented the pain his friends now endured.

  ‘We will deal with the injuries. We have another problem,’ Spartacus said, ignoring the tone, for he felt the same anger. Plinius did not reply but gave Spartacus a quizzical look that showed he was at least listening.

  ‘Tomorrow the tournament rests but the next day we shall be in the arena fighting the champions of Utica.’ Spartacus put emphasis on the word ‘champions’.

  ‘What of it? That's what we came here for,’ Plinius was still direct but his anger more under control.

  ‘I want you to withdraw from the tournament, our friends will need a good sword to protect them if I fail.’ Spartacus’ words hit Plinius like a hammer blow.

  ‘You think I cannot fight well enough for the arena?’ Plinius blurted.

  ‘We both know that is not the case. You have proved yourself many times.’ Spartacus defended his position, though part of him realised Plinius had a point. Oh there was no doubt the boy could fight, but Spartacus had seen these men hurt enough and would like to put an end to that hurt, especially for Plinius. He did not know why but he felt he must do what he could to defend the young man, even if it meant entering the arena alone. Suddenly Plinius stared at Spartacus.

  ‘I would not have been here if it wasn't for you Spartacus. I would gladly do what you command in every other respect, but do not ask me to do this.’ The boy stared unflinchingly into the face of Spartacus and, at that point Spartacus knew there would be no dissuading the young man so intent on proving himself.

  Melachus stood watching his master explode, the furniture taking a beating.

  ‘How can that bastard still be alive, he bled like a stuck pig?’ He rounded on Melachus fists clenched, the latter flinching at the unbridled anger.

  ‘Please my lord, his group of men have been destroyed. Only two remain standing.’ Melachus spoke quickly he feared he was close joining Yoroah in his fate. The thought stopped Dido in his tracks he ran the figures through his mind. Two men, no matter how good, could not best his champions. A broad smile broke out on his face and his temper was gone as quickly as it had flared.

  ‘You're right of course. Now is not the time to be angry, it is for celebration. The crowd are happy so we must be happy. Remember Melachus, we must keep the crowd happy at all times.’

  ‘Yes my lord.’

  Melachus made to leave but he was called back by Dido,

  ‘Who is the best healer in Utica?’

  ‘Stoiclese the Greek, my lord no question,’ Melachus answered, suspicion in his mind. He wondered what Dido planned now.

  ‘Then employ him and send him to Cassian.’ Dido laughed, ‘No tricks Melachus. This time the crowd need to know I appreciate great warriors who put on a show for them,’ Dido finished, a serene angelic smile upon his face. Inside he was soaring with joy, the gamble was won and he decided he would like Cassian alive, to see his disgrace happen. Though he may arrange for a little accident to take place once the crowd was dispersed and they forgot the bravery of the young Roman.

  It was dark by the time Cassian and Aegis slept. The rest of the men stayed close by, ready to help their friends if need be. The meal had been of the highest quality but little was touched. Two men walked from the darkness and those seated jumped to their feet ready to unsheathe their swords. It was Melachus who spoke first.


  ‘Easy, we bear no misfortune, we come to help.’ He spoke whilst holding his hands out to show no weapons.

  ‘And why would one of Dido's men want to help us?’ Plinius spat out the words.

  ‘I am not one of Dido's men. I work for him because I must, but I will never be his.’ Melachus’ words came with such conviction it shocked Plinius.

  ‘What do you want?’ Spartacus said, bored with the exchange.

  ‘Dido wishes to impress the crowd by sending you the best healer in Utica. I have brought him to you.’ Plinius was about to send them packing when Spartacus intervened.

  ‘They are through there but, be warned, any hint of wrong doing and this place will be your grave.’ It was said with such severity both men believed it instantly and nodded in compliance. A while later Stoiclese emerged from the enclosure, his tunic covered in blood. All of the men looked to him, waiting for a verdict. He reached and drank from a goblet of wine.

  ‘They should be fine as long as the wounds don't go bad which means constantly changing the dressing. I see no reason for their condition to deteriorate.’ It was said in a matter of fact way like all healers tended to do. People were less human beings, more pieces of meat or a fascinating project. But nevertheless his words brought comfort, which was nothing to what happened next. A voice sounded from behind Stoiclese.

  ‘Here! Who left me in here with these two bastards? Neither one of them can hold a decent tune,’ Bull said, a beaming smile radiating from him. All the men rose at once, glad to see him up about. They slapped him heartily on the back and relayed what had happened once he was knocked cold in the arena, a fact he turned scarlet at. His colour was not helped when Spartacus joked.

  ‘Tell me Bull, why do you keep going to sleep every time we enter the arena?’

  ‘It's because we have to wait for you to kill your opponents, I get a little bored,’ Bull replied, not showing the fact he felt ashamed at not being able to join them in the arena for the next and most dangerous bout.

  The morning brought more good news, Cassian stirred from his slumber and, with the special herbs Stoiclese had mixed for him, was in a very joyful mood indeed, insisting the men carry him out of the enclosure so he could speak with the men. Aegis stirred occasionally but losing part of his body meant he needed to heal both physically and mentally. He stayed inside but his condition improved through the day. Cassian broached the subject of the upcoming bout against the champions.

  ‘Listen men. We have had a good run, but I feel sending Spartacus and Plinius into that arena outnumbered would be unwise. I cannot promise you the wealth you would have gained should we have succeeded, but I can make you all wealthy men. What say we leave this place, let Dido have the cess pit?’ He ended, waiting for the angry response. All the men, save Spartacus and Plinius agreed immediately, many stating you don't miss what you never had. However, Spartacus stood.

  ‘If you think I've gone through all this shit to turn back now you are mistaken. I'm fighting and will kill every one of the bastards.’ The bravado in his words always came when his back was against the wall. In a more settled state of mind he would have happily got on a horse and ridden away. The men now looked at Plinius. He smiled and took his time over the answer.

  ‘I have already told Spartacus what I am doing. Besides, don't think I'm letting him get all the glory,’ he nodded towards Spartacus.

  ‘You're mad, the pair of you. You don't need to do this,’ Cassian blurted in amazement.

  ‘Listen, don't worry about us. I've been speaking to Melachus. Tomorrow a platform will be erected to present the champions with their winnings and we need you at the top of it so Dido doesn't try and get out of his deal. How the fuck will you get to the top of it?’ Spartacus asked. Stoiclese began to speak.

  ‘Strictly speaking he shouldn't be moving around, but have one of your men knock up some crutches and, maybe with a couple of men to help him, once at the platform steps he should be fine. Just don't go putting weight on the damn thing,’ he ended.

  As Melachus returned to the household of Dido, he was about to go and report to his master. Before he could he observed Postus, the head of guards leaving his master's quarters and alarms sounded in his head. Luckily Melachus was familiar with Postus and the two had shared more than one cask of wine over the years. He picked up a spare pitcher of wine and went to Postus’ room. The man was seated, not looking best pleased. He glanced up as Melachus entered.

  ‘What's the matter Postus?’ Melachus enquired.

  ‘You know what the bastard wants me to do?’ Postus replied.

  ‘No, what?’ Melachus replied with false concern. He needed to know Dido's plans.

  ‘He's told me if Cassian's men are victorious then I am to slaughter them on top of the platform, in full view of the crowd. They will want my balls,’ he said, shaking his head at the enormity of the task he had been set.

  ‘Then don't do it,’ Melachus said, leaning in close. ‘If you slaughter Cassian and his men all hell will break loose. The crowd will bay for blood and who do you think Dido will throw to them?’ He let the question hang in the air.

  ‘Then what will I do?’ Postus said, the panic beginning to set in.

  ‘Do nothing,’ Melachus replied.

  ‘What?’ Postus replied, aghast at the suggestion.

  ‘Look if you do nothing Dido will be forced to command you to act and all will hear his treachery. Just make sure the men at the top of the platform are men you can trust. Do nothing, I'm sure Cassian and his menwill take care of the rest.’

  Melachus paused seeing if his words had found a home within the mind of Postus and saw that they had. He realised it would be difficult for Postus, he was former military and following orders was as natural as breathing to him. He followed orders even if they were bloody stupid ones, he was programmed to do so. He only hoped Postus’ pure hatred for Dido overwhelmed his urge to obey. He left the man with his thoughts and the wine. It was a delicate moment and the decision or man could not be pushed, some things are better left to fester.

  Fortunately Dido ordered Melachus later that night to deliver the invitational scroll to Cassian personally, so there would be no need to sneak out of the household to warn Cassian of his master's plans. He relayed the conversation he had with Postus regarding the orders he had received.

  ‘The treacherous little bastard. He plays to win,’ Cassian declared.

  ‘He has never lost and doesn't intend doing so tomorrow,’ Melachus stated.

  ‘Tell me, why do you help us?’ Cassian asked, his eyes watching the man's response.

  ‘Because of my habit of betting on the losing man, my family went broke. It was because of me that my sister had to enter Dido's household as no more than a slave. She was young and innocent and he took that from her. She was found in an alley, so badly beaten my own mother couldn't recognise her body and refuses to believe her to be gone. I pray to the Gods that I haven't backed the losing man again.’

  Cassian looked at the man, his shame apparent in every bone of his body.

  ‘You haven't. Tell me, you're alone with him why not just cut his throat?’

  ‘Oh trust me I have fought the urge to do so but if I'm caught who will provide for my mother as she sits looking at the door waiting for my sister not believing she is dead? I have failed her once, I will not again.’ He looked away, trying to hide the tears in his eyes.

  ‘Then tomorrow we shall take the glory but you will have justice.’ Cassian raised a goblet to the man and hoped he could live up to the statement, or rather Spartacus and Plinius could.

  The night wore on. Cassian and the men made the plans which would only succeed if Spartacus and Plinius could be victorious in the arena against the champions. Bull had been quiet for some time and when asked what was wrong, he apologised he would not be at their side in the arena. The comment made Spartacus regret his earlier statement about Bull falling asleep.

  ‘Bull, if it was not for your skill many of us would not b
e here,’ he said earnestly.

  ‘I definitely wouldn't, Colossus would have smashed me to bits,’ Cassian added.

  ‘All the same, I wish I could be at your side. You may need me,’ Bull responded looking forlorn.

  ‘I don't. I need you with me on that platform. Dido will try any method or trick to hold onto power. I need a good man.’ Cassian grasped Bull by the shoulder as he spoke. Bull held up his hand to stop him.