everywhere. As the men around it bawled in surprise and anger, he bounded on to the one beyond that, and then back to the floor. Four more steps, and he’d be at the foot of the staircase. A hand tugged at the back of his tunic. Carbo drew his dagger, spun and slashed the soldier who had grabbed him across the arm. Blood sprayed into the air and his assailant fell away, screaming.
Carbo went up the steep flight two steps at a time. He risked a glance at the room below, and his heart raced even faster. Led by the block-headed legionary, more than a dozen soldiers were heading his way. He’d be able to check one room for Navio — no more.
Carbo shot up the last few stairs like a slingshot. Ahead of him, a corridor led left and right. Which way? Left. He darted into the passage, which was dimly lit by a single hanging oil lamp. Erotic scenes had been painted on the walls, but Carbo paid them no heed. There were doors to both sides, at least four of them. Gods, which should he choose? He could hear studded sandals thundering up after him. He squeezed his eyes shut. Fortuna, help me! The first door Carbo saw when he looked again was the second on the left. He shoulder-charged it, smashing it open with a splintering of wood.
For once, the goddess of good luck had answered his prayers.
‘What the-’ bellowed Navio, whose bare arse was sticking up from between the open legs of the brunette.
‘Up! Get up! They know who we are!’
‘I-’ Navio’s protest died in his throat as he heard the men on the stairs. He scrambled off the now screaming whore and grabbed his licium.
Carbo’s gaze shot around the little room and halted on the small window opening. ‘Come on!’ He tore over and threw open the shutters, which cracked off the outside wall. Sticking his head out, he saw a tiled roof — part of the ground floor — a short drop below. He shoved his bloodied dagger back into his sheath. Heaving a leg out into space, Carbo gripped the wooden frame as he pulled his other leg out. Instantly, he dropped to the tiles. He looked up and was relieved to see Navio’s bare legs following him a heartbeat later. With a thud, his friend landed beside him, bollock naked but clutching his undergarment. Carbo stifled his urge to laugh.
‘Which way?’
Angry shouts reached them from the room above.
Carbo tried to get his bearings. There was more light to his left, which meant it was more likely to be the front of the inn. Not the best route to take. ‘This way!’ Taking as much care as he could on an uneven, angled surface in the pitch black, he worked his way across the tiles. There was a muttered curse behind him as Navio stubbed a toe.
‘Where are they?’ shouted a voice. ‘Get a torch!’
Carbo stumbled and almost fell off the edge of the roof. There was just enough light for him to make out the paved surface of a yard, a cart and a water butt. It’s the inn’s stable yard. Taking a deep breath, he jumped, landing hard on the cobbles below. Half winded, he glanced up, seeing no one. Thank the gods. Navio thumped down beside him.
‘What in Hades shall we do?’
‘Lose those bastards who are right behind us!’ whispered Carbo. ‘We’re dead meat otherwise.’ Seeing a gap between two of the stable buildings, he tore towards it. He had no idea where it led.
As it happened, it was the dungheap, which was enclosed on three sides by a wall.
A series of heavy thuds from the yard announced the legionaries’ arrival.
There was nothing for it. Trying not to breathe, Carbo began to clamber up the pile of shit. Soon he was ankle-, and then knee-deep in the stinking ordure. Driven by sheer desperation and the panting breaths of Navio behind him, he floundered up until the top of the wall was within reach. Pulling himself atop the bricks, he took a swift look at what was on the other side before letting himself fall. Fortunately, it wasn’t far to the ground of the narrow alleyway.
‘Where are you?’
‘Here, on the other side,’ answered Carbo. ‘If you want to live, climb!’
Navio’s head appeared, followed by his torso and a leg. ‘I’m covered in shit.’
‘That’s the least of our worries.’ Navio lowered himself and they crouched down for a moment, listening hard. Confused cries from the inn’s yard revealed that their escape route had not immediately been found. It wouldn’t be long, however. As soon as someone brought light, the legionaries would see their trail up the dungheap. They had to move, and fast. The alley they were in was formed by the walls of two large buildings. Blocks of flats or large houses, thought Carbo.
‘What the fuck are we going to do?’ asked Navio. ‘They’ll have men on all the streets around the inn. The first one who spots me will know who I am.’
Carbo caught the edge of desperation in his friend’s voice, and tried not to let it infect him. He trotted down to the strip of light that formed the alleyway’s exit on to the street. Peering to the left and right, he let out a stifled groan. A group of legionaries was already combing the thoroughfare from either end. Every second man held a flaming torch aloft, providing light for their companions to poke their heads into every nook and cranny.
Navio saw his face. ‘Not good?’
Carbo explained what he’d seen.
‘What have we done to deserve this?’
‘We thought with our pricks instead of our heads,’ snapped Carbo.
‘You’re right. I’m sorry,’ muttered Navio.
‘It’s not just your fault. I went along with you.’
‘Hey! Over here! I think they climbed up this way,’ shouted a voice on the other side of the wall.
‘Let’s kill the first man over,’ said Carbo. ‘Take his sword, and hopefully get another from the next one. At least we can die like men.’
Navio nodded in savage agreement.
They trotted back up the alley.
What a stupid way to die, thought Carbo.
Then, to his utter amazement, a door in the wall to his left opened. A boy in a threadbare tunic that was far too big for him emerged, clutching a bucket full of kitchen slops.
Hope flared in Carbo’s breast. Even as the slave saw them, and opened his mouth to scream, Carbo had placed a hand over his mouth. ‘Don’t make a sound. We’re Spartacus’ men. Legionaries are after us. Can you help?’
‘Give me a damn hand up!’ bellowed the voice that Carbo had heard a moment before. ‘Quickly!’
The boy’s eyes flickered to the wall and back again.
‘We’re dead men if you don’t,’ hissed Carbo.
The boy pulled his hand away. ‘Come inside.’ He melted back into the darkness.
Carbo didn’t think; he just followed. He felt Navio pushing in after him. The boy brushed past and pulled the door silently to. There was a snick as he slid the bolt home, and then they all stood there in the pitch black, panting. Listening.
Thud. ‘I’m over.’
‘Can you see anything?’ called a second voice.
‘There’s no sign of the bastards, no.’ A metallic shhhh as a sword was pulled from its scabbard.
‘I’m nearly waist deep in the shit!’
‘I don’t care! Get your arse over here.’
Muffled curses, and another thud.
The jingle of mail. The pad of two men moving with great care.
‘They’re long gone.’
‘You don’t know that,’ said the soldier who’d been first over the wall. ‘Here’s a door, look.’
Carbo’s grip on his dagger tightened.
‘Which is locked from the inside,’ said the second legionary acidly. ‘They’ve headed on to the street, no doubt. One of the patrols will pick them up soon enough.’
‘Let’s hope so.’
‘What are you worried about? They won’t have discovered a thing.’
‘All the same, we don’t want Spartacus hearing about our hidden catapults.’
