‘Neither will I.’ What a missed opportunity, thought Spartacus grimly. Crassus should be coughing out his last breath. He locked eyes with Carbo. ‘Let’s move!’
They fled up the street. Neither saw the little figure in their wake, darting in and out between the pursuing soldiers. There was a cup of wine in her hand.
Spartacus led the way. He ran through the dimly lit alleyway, barging past an old man carrying a hen by the neck, to a junction with another. He turned left blindly and hared up that, followed by Carbo. Fifty paces later, the narrow way forked. He took the right. A moment later he cursed as his feet sank into a stinking pile of semi-liquid waste. ‘A dung heap.’ His teeth flashed in the darkness at Carbo. ‘They won’t want to follow us through this. If they do, at least they’ll be covered in shit as well.’
Carbo peered back whence they had come. He couldn’t hear any sounds of pursuit. ‘I think we’ve lost them.’
‘Maybe. They’ll be searching every street by now, though. We need a place to lie low.’
‘Shouldn’t we get out of the city?’
‘It’s too late for that. The first thing Crassus will have done is to order soldiers to every single gate. Anyone trying to leave will be questioned, certainly for the rest of the day. We’ll have a better chance if we can hole up somewhere until tomorrow and try then.’ It will still be damn risky, thought Spartacus. Had it been worth the risk? Yes, because if their attempt had succeeded, the Romans would have been thrown into complete disarray.
‘We could always hide here.’
Spartacus indicated the narrow window openings above them. ‘Someone will see us, and put two and two together. It’ll be dangerous to head back to the Elysian Fields, but it’s our best option.’
Carbo didn’t like the idea either, but he couldn’t think of another. He swung his head this way and that, trying to get his bearings. ‘Do you even know which direction it is?’
‘No.’
‘We’ll try this way,’ said Spartacus, taking a step forward.
‘You’ll get even more lost if you do.’
Carbo turned to see a small shape scurrying out of the gloom. He couldn’t help but grin. It was Tulla, still clutching the dregs of a cup of wine.
‘You!’ spat Spartacus. ‘Why have you followed us?’
‘You haven’t paid me.’ Tulla’s voice died away as Spartacus took a step towards her.
‘Did you see what happened?’ demanded the Thracian.
‘Y-yes,’ replied the girl, backing away. ‘Is it true that you’re Spartacus?’
Spartacus darted forward and grabbed Tulla by the front of her tunic.
Carbo’s breath caught in his chest.
‘It is.’
‘Y-you’ve just been pretending to be a slave? Why?’
‘To find out what’s going on here. To discover what Crassus is planning to do.’
‘And when you saw a chance to assassinate him, you took it.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Are you going to kill me now?’ Despite Tulla’s bravado, her voice quavered.
‘I’m not in the habit of murdering children, but I don’t want the soldiers to find us either. There’s no other way, really.’ Spartacus placed his knife against the side of Tulla’s scrawny neck.
Carbo saw the fabric covering the girl’s groin darken as she lost control of her bladder. ‘Spartacus, please!’
The Thracian didn’t answer, but his knife stayed where it was. Tulla’s eyes flickered from Carbo up to Spartacus and back again, but she had lost the ability to speak.
‘You’re to become a father soon,’ said Carbo.
‘What has that to do with it?’ Spartacus demanded harshly.
‘If you have a daughter, imagine her when she’s Tulla’s age.’
‘I am to have a son, not a daughter,’ Spartacus barked. ‘And he will be no gutter rat.’ The tip of the dagger dug into the skin, causing Tulla to wail in terror and letting a fat drop of blood drop to the ground.
‘Wait! We could make a deal with her.’
Spartacus stared at Carbo without speaking, but again his knife remained still.
‘Offer her an aureus to guide us to the Elysian Fields,’ said Carbo quickly. ‘She will stay there with us and in the morning, we’ll give her another gold coin to take us to one of the quieter gates.’
Spartacus chuckled. ‘That’s enough to live on for a year! Why would I do that when I can simply cut her throat and keep the money?’
‘Because it would mean one less life being lost. She’s an innocent child.’
‘Innocent? So were the children in Thracian villages that the fucking Romans murdered a few years back!’ The muscles in Spartacus’ forearm tensed.
‘Do it for me then,’ said Carbo, wondering if he was going too far. ‘Please.’
Spartacus’ lips thinned. ‘You dare to question me?’
‘She will not play us false,’ urged Carbo. ‘I know it.’
Spartacus used the point of the blade to force Tulla’s chin upwards. ‘Hear that? Carbo trusts you. With his own life.’ He shot a flinty look at Carbo, whose mouth went very dry. ‘Are you worthy of that trust?’
‘Y-y-yes, sir.’
He let her go and Carbo let out a ragged breath. Thank the gods.
The Thracian fumbled in the purse that hung unseen around his neck. ‘Here.’
Tulla grabbed the coin, and turned it over and over. ‘This is only a denarius!’
‘That’s right. And this,’ said Spartacus, flicking a gold coin between his fingers, ‘is one of the aurei you’re going to earn. If I give it to you now, you’ll probably still play us false. And I’ll have to kill Carbo here.’
Tulla’s eyes grew beady.
‘It’s more than you’ve ever had in your damn life,’ said Carbo angrily, sure that the money was motivating the girl more than his life.
Tulla reached out to try and snatch the aureus, but Spartacus lifted his hand out of reach. ‘You will be paid in full if you do as I’ve asked. But if you don’t, I will hunt you down and kill you. Not nicely, like I was going to do just now. Very slowly.’
Tulla’s face went pale beneath the grime. ‘All right. You know that the gods will keep you to your side of the bargain?’
Carbo was relieved to hear her words. If she believed in oaths, she would not betray his trust. If she did, he had little doubt that the Thracian would kill him. Despite Spartacus’ continuing trust, he’d already made two mistakes too many.
‘I do,’ said Spartacus solemnly.
This seemed to satisfy the girl. ‘Two aurei in total then.’
‘Yes. The balance payable when you take us to the gate in the morning.’
‘Along with the amount we agreed for the job of guiding you around.’ Tulla’s jaw jutted out stubbornly.
‘Can you believe this girl?’ Spartacus barked a laugh. ‘She’d bargain with the ferryman!’
Despite the danger he had placed himself in, Carbo grinned.
Spartacus spat on his hand and shoved it forward. ‘It’s a deal.’
‘Deal,’ agreed Tulla, gravely accepting the grip.
Some time later, they found themselves in a side alley that overlooked the Elysian Fields. Tulla made to enter the street, but Spartacus pulled her back. ‘Wait. Let’s not be hasty.’
Staying in the shadows, they watched the inn. Several tables outside were occupied. A balding man dozed with his head against the front wall; a bored-looking whore toyed with her bracelets; two older men argued amiably about which horse-racing team was best that season. Carbo’s unease reduced a fraction. There didn’t seem to be any reason for alarm. He glanced at Spartacus.
‘Not yet.’
Tulla rolled her eyes, but she too stayed where she was.
A boy pushing a small cart went by, shouting about the fresh fruit juice he had for sale. A matron passed in the other direction, issuing orders to the trio of house slaves who hurried behind her, carrying her shopping. The
