within the slave army, but the day’s developments meant that there was plenty more to be done. Raising new legions took time, and although he didn’t yet have the jurisdiction to do so, Crassus was sure that he could implement the first steps of the lengthy process. With a decent number of veterans, he would have a nucleus around which he could build an army when the time came.
Crassus knew in his bones that the consuls would soon meet Spartacus in battle. Nothing that he had seen today told him anything other than Lentulus and Gellius would lose. When they did, he would seize his chance.
We will meet again, Spartacus, thought Crassus. This time, you will learn the lesson that I should have taught you the first time we met. We Romans have no equals, and you are nothing but a savage. A talented, intelligent savage, perhaps, but a savage nonetheless. When your army has finally been ground into dust and you are choking out your last breath, you will understand that.
How I look forward to that day. I will take the credit for saving the Republic, and the masses will love me — for saving their lives and their livelihoods. That upstart Pompey can forget being the most popular man in Rome. In taverns and shops, on every street corner, the citizens will talk of no one but Crassus. My fame assured, I will be held in the same regard as men such as Sulla and Marius — for ever.
Chapter VI
Near the foot of the Alps, Cisalpine Gaul
Ariadne woke with a headache. Stretching, she felt a crick in her neck as well. She sighed. Her poor sleep hadn’t just been because of the baby’s activity. Her rest had not been helped by a never-ending, hideous nightmare, in which she could not find Spartacus on a road that had been decorated with a crucified man every forty paces. It was a huge relief to see him breathing heavily alongside her. She studied his features in a concerted effort to forget the gory images of the dream. It worked. With the tip of a finger, she traced the faint scar that ran off his straight nose on to his left cheek. She touched his square, determined jaw and his brown hair, close-cropped in the Roman military fashion. Ariadne was admiring his well-muscled, wiry torso when he gave a violent twitch and muttered something. At once her enjoyment soured.
Judging by the way he’d moved about all night, he had not slept well either. She wondered what had caused his unease. I’ll ask him when he wakes. She herself had long since given up trying to rest. Despite her weariness, she was determined to be cheerful. This was the day that she had longed for since their remarkable escape from the ludus in Capua. Back then, it had been an impossible hope. Yet against all likelihood, her husband’s soldiers had defeated every Roman army that had been sent against them since. Now Mutina lay some twenty miles to their rear, the legions that had garrisoned it broken and scattered to the four winds. No battle-ready enemy troops remained in the area. The previous day, their army had crossed the bridge over the River Padus. Their path lay wide open.
Ariadne had to feast her eyes on the wondrous sight again. She unlaced the tent flap and looked out. At last a smile crept on to her face. She hadn’t imagined it. Towering before her, from west to east in an immense, unbroken stony wall, were the Alps. All we have to do, she thought, is cross those peaks, and we’ll be free. For ever. Why, then, did she have a knot of worry clenched in her gut? An old saying came to her: Many’s the slip between the cup and the lip. I won’t be happy until we have actually reached the other side of the mountains.
‘Checking they’re still there?’ Spartacus’ voice came from behind her.
She pulled her head inside the tent. ‘You’re awake.’
‘Yes. Well, have they vanished?’
She punched him lightly on the arm. ‘You’re making fun of me.’
‘Just a little. I want to see them too.’ He threw off his blankets and crawled to the entrance. He was quiet for a moment. Then, ‘Thank the Rider. I didn’t dream them up. We really are beyond the reach of any legionaries in Italy.’ In Italy, he thought darkly. What about Thrace? A wild land that most of my soldiers have only heard of in tales. Will they want to go there — to face more legions? Or will they refuse? If that happened, Spartacus was aware that he did not want to be a general without an army.
‘You’re going ahead with your plan to talk to the men.’
‘Of course. This is an immense step that we’re taking. I have to check that they’re all of the same opinion.’
There it was, she thought. The festering worry that both of them had been feeling for some time, but neither had mentioned. She couldn’t have been alone in hearing the discontented talk around the campfires. ‘You think some of them won’t?’
He didn’t answer.
‘Who? Castus or Gannicus?’
Spartacus sighed.
‘What is it?’
Despite his wish to avoid confrontation with Ariadne, he’d always known that he would have to tell her. It had to be before he addressed his soldiers too. He owed her that much. ‘A lot of men aren’t happy with the idea. There has been grumbling about it for a while, but over the last couple of nights, it has grown worse. You might not have noticed it, but I hear it all as I move through the camp.’
‘But-’
‘It’s not surprising, Ariadne. The bulk of them were born here in captivity. They weren’t freeborn, like you and I. They don’t know what it’s like to live in their own homeland, with no one to call master. As far as they’re concerned, Italy is a land rich for the plunder. It’s fertile, with countless farms and latifundia to prey upon. Why would they want to leave it? A lot of those who weren’t born into slavery think that too.’
‘They should leave because they would get away from the damn Romans!’ she said, feeling her cheeks redden with anger.
‘Yet the majority think that they can beat any army that they face. Why wouldn’t they?’ His lips twisted in a wry grimace. ‘Look at what they’ve done. I’ve told them over and over that the Romans never give up, but words mean little when they’ve never known anything except victory.’
‘There must be a way to convince them.’
‘At the end of the day, I can’t make the army follow me. It’s not as if there aren’t other leaders who will be reluctant to cross the Alps, men who want to stay in this land that has given them so much.’
‘You mean Castus and Gannicus.’ This time, she spat their names.
‘Yes. They stayed with me when Crixus left, but you know how unpredictable they are, especially that piece of dirt Castus. He has never liked following my lead. This is when he’ll make his move, and I wager Gannicus will go with him. A good chunk of the army will follow them.’ And the pricks don’t even know about Lucullus. If they did, and told the men, most would leave.
‘If that happens, what will you do?’
They stared at each other without speaking.
‘The Thracians would come with me. Carbo, Navio, the Scythians, obviously. I’d say that maybe ten to fifteen thousand other men would do as I ask. But the rest I’m not sure about-’
‘Leave them then!’ cried Ariadne. ‘They can choose their own fates! To be slaughtered in a month, or a year, by another Roman army.’ She saw the pain in his eyes. ‘I know that they’re your men, but you don’t have to act as they do.’
‘I know,’ he said stiffly. ‘But there’s more to it than that.’
She gave him a searching look. ‘Is this what have you been holding back from me?’
He didn’t answer her question. ‘When Carbo and Navio were in Mutina, they heard word of Marcus Lucullus, the Roman general who has been fighting in Asia Minor. He has defeated the Thracians who were in Mithridates’ pay and moved into Thrace itself. Large areas have been laid waste.’
‘The Romans have campaigned against Thracian tribes on and off for more than thirty years. Hitherto they’ve never bothered to mount a full-scale invasion. Why would things have changed?’
‘I don’t know, but his campaign is continuing.’
Dionysus, no! How can you have let this happen? Ariadne wanted to scream at the heavens, but she held in her rage and fear. ‘Surely it’s even more reason to leave? You could lead the fight there.’
