loose on you is because of your previous record. If anything like that ever happens again, you’ll both end up as pickings for the vultures. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?’
‘Yes,’ they muttered in unison.
‘Be certain that you do.’
They shuffled their feet, all too aware of the Scythians’ predatory eyes on their backs and of the Gauls’ glowering anger.
Spartacus’ attention moved on. ‘Some cavalry must be sent to reconnoitre the road past Mutina,’ he announced. ‘If they see anything suspicious, they’ll mark its position, but ignore it. Let the Romans think that their little secret is safe. We can send out more scouts under the cover of darkness.’
‘Once the spot has been found, we destroy the catapults!’ Castus’ face was fiercely eager.
‘Damn right we will,’ snarled Gannicus. ‘And Castus and I will be in charge.’
Spartacus saw the level of their anger, and wondered if he should have told them about Carbo and Navio’s mission. Would it have mattered if he had? ‘That’s just what I was going to suggest.’
‘Good, because we’re going to do it anyway,’ snapped Gannicus, grimacing as Castus growled in approval. ‘A thousand men with buckets of oil and some torches is all we need to turn Longinus’ artillery into little piles of ash.’
‘Fine.’ Spartacus pulled an encouraging grin. Keep them sweet for the moment. ‘Once the ballistae are out of the way, we’ll only have two legions to think about. The ground to either side of the road is flat. It won’t matter where we face them.’
‘I can’t wait,’ snarled Castus. ‘We’ll slaughter the cocksuckers.’
‘With the help of the Great Rider, that’s exactly what we’ll do,’ said Spartacus with satisfaction. He didn’t say a word about the Alps. Such a controversial topic would set Castus and Gannicus off again. He shoved that problem to one side. ‘We can talk about the exact details when the cavalry return.’
‘Fine,’ said Castus. He eyed Carbo. ‘What was the name of the boy who saved you?’
‘Arnax.’ What do you care?
Castus grunted. Then, talking animatedly with Gannicus about how they would destroy Longinus’ forces, he left.
Deep in thought, Spartacus began poking a stick into the fire. It was a clear sign of dismissal.
‘I need a wash,’ said Navio quietly. ‘And breakfast is waiting. Coming?’
‘Not yet,’ replied Carbo. He framed the word ‘Lucullus’ with his lips and Navio nodded in understanding.
‘See you.’
Carbo found Spartacus regarding him quizzically when he turned. ‘Was there something else?’
‘There was, actually.’
Spartacus scowled. ‘How else did you disobey my orders? Atheas! Taxacis!’
‘It’s nothing like that,’ said Carbo, his heart racing.
Spartacus let the Scythians come right up to Carbo’s back before he lifted a hand. ‘What then?’
Carbo wiped away the sweat that had sprung out on his brow. Gods, why didn’t we do just as he said? ‘The Romans suspect that you’re going to leave Italy.’
‘That’s not surprising given the route we’ve taken so far,’ said Spartacus dryly. ‘Why do you mention it?’
Carbo checked that that the Gauls were well out of earshot. The Scythians had Spartacus’ trust, so their presence didn’t matter. ‘They also said that Marcus Lucullus has inflicted a recent heavy defeat on Thracian troops who’d been fighting for Mithridates. He’s now continuing his campaign into Thrace.’
Spartacus spat an oath. ‘You overheard exactly that?’
‘Yes.’
‘What else did they say?’
‘Nothing. I’m sorry.’
Spartacus’ eyes probed his for a long moment. ‘I’m grateful to you. You did well not to reveal that to the Gauls. Why did you not?’
‘I’m not sure,’ replied Carbo truthfully. He remembered how quarrelsome the Gauls had been. ‘Maybe it was because I suspected that they would use it as an excuse not to leave Italy.’
‘You are shrewd. I sometimes wonder if they have ever intended to do so, but news like that would set their minds in stone.’
‘Will you leave still?’
‘Of course. With every man who’ll follow me,’ said Spartacus with a confidence he was not sure he truly felt. ‘It makes sense to do so. Three large-scale defeats mean nothing to the Romans. They have a bottomless pool of men to replenish their legions. At least in Thrace I would be on my own territory, among my own people. It won’t take much to unite them and start another uprising.’ Let that be true, Great Rider.
Carbo nodded, feeling reassured. Despite the roasting he’d just been given, his memories of how Spartacus had saved him in the ludus, and of how he’d intervened to save Chloris, were always in his mind. He’d follow the Thracian anywhere. To hell. To Thrace. It didn’t matter.
‘Go on, be off with you. Get some food in your belly and have a rest. You’ve earned it.’
Carbo grinned at the change in Spartacus’ tone. ‘If I’m not to take part in the attack on the ballistae, I might go hunting this afternoon.’
‘Fine. One more thing.’
‘Yes?’
‘Not a word to a soul about Lucullus. Tell Navio to keep his mouth shut too,’ Spartacus warned. ‘On pain of death.’
‘Of course,’ said Carbo, his heart thudding again. He walked off, unaware that he had added a mountain to Spartacus’ concerns.
Sending Atheas to fetch his cavalry commanders, Spartacus sat for a while in silence. Ariadne was not in their tent. For that, he was grateful. He wanted to think about the shocking news before having to talk it over with her. There was no way of knowing if the report of Lucullus’ victory was true, but he had to assume that it was. Why would a legionary make up something like that? It wasn’t as if the Thracians hadn’t been beaten by Rome before. It’s only a setback; we Thracians have inflicted plenty of humiliating defeats on the bastards too, he thought, remembering with satisfaction his own tribe’s stunning victory over Appius Claudius Pulcher, the proconsul of Macedonia, five years earlier. Deep down, however, Spartacus knew that the task he had set himself once they reached Thrace had just been made much harder. Was it even possible? Don’t think like that!
‘You’re in a different world. I can never usually get this close without you noticing.’
Ariadne’s voice dragged him back to reality. He smiled, burying the news of Lucullus. ‘It was a good idea to send Carbo and Navio to Mutina.’
Ariadne stiffened. ‘They’re back?’
‘Yes. Longinus has set a trap on the road north. His ballistae are hidden away, but ranged in so that they could rain down volleys on the army as it marched past. A perfect ambush.’
‘Damn Romans,’ said Ariadne angrily. ‘What will you do?’
‘Pinpoint the artillery’s exact location. Then the Gauls will destroy it tonight.’ He saw Ariadne’s surprise. ‘They were outraged that I had sent spies to Mutina without telling them. Letting them have this mission was a gesture to bring them around, but they’ll do a good job. Gannicus in particular is like a hound on a tight leash. We’ll march in the morning. Catch Longinus before he has had a chance to react.’
‘He only has two legions.’ Ariadne wanted to hear the small figure again. ‘We have more than fifty thousand men.’
‘That’s right, my love. We will win, have no fear.’
‘I know.’ Unconsciously, she placed a hand on her belly. ‘Our son will be born outside Italy.’
He put his arms around her to shove away the uncertainty that had flared up again in his mind. ‘I cannot wait to hold him.’
She gave him a fond glance, and saw something in his expression. ‘What are you not telling me?’
He didn’t answer.
‘Spartacus? What is it?’
His eyes regarded her steadily. ‘I’m not going to say right now. I need to think about it.’
A knot of fear clenched in her stomach. ‘Is there Roman another army nearby?’
