Castus flushed. ‘We’re just leaving.’
‘That’s not what she meant,’ said Gannicus, his eyes narrowing. ‘Is it?’
‘No.’
‘What makes you so sure that we will?’ asked Castus.
‘Come on. A blind man could see how angry you were when Spartacus told the men that he would lead them south again. Besides, you told him that you would when the time was right.’
‘I might have changed my mind,’ he said with a silky smile.
‘But you haven’t.’
Castus didn’t deny it, but he didn’t answer either.
Ariadne turned to Gannicus. ‘I know that you will split off eventually. Have you decided when?’
Gannicus sucked on his moustache and said nothing.
Ariadne felt safe enough to let her temper rise. ‘Well?’ she demanded.
‘I haven’t decided,’ Gannicus admitted. ‘We’ll see how the land lies after we make camp near Thurii.’
‘But you will break away?’
‘Yes.’ He held her gaze. ‘Spartacus is a great leader, but a man can’t follow another all his life.’
‘Thank you for your honesty.’
He smiled, reminding her why she had always preferred him to the shifty Castus. Yet she still wouldn’t trust either man. Without the Scythians’ presence, she would have been scared.
‘When were you planning on telling me that?’ Castus’ tone was accusatory.
‘In my own good time.’
‘The best thing would be to unite forces. Go together.’
‘True. Let’s not argue about it here, eh?’ Gannicus glanced at Ariadne. ‘Wishing the blessings of the gods upon you and your son.’ He reached out and threw an arm over Castus’ shoulders. Still grumbling, the red-haired Gaul let himself be led away.
Ariadne watched them go. They’ll probably go in the spring. That would make most sense, after the hard weather is over. The knowledge sent relief, and a little sadness, flooding through her veins. After the uncertainty, it was better to know. Once she told Spartacus, he could make plans, work on the men’s loyalty, seek out even more recruits. But they still needed a place to head for. Thurii was a long way from Rome, but it wasn’t an impregnable fortress, or inaccessible. To reach it, all the Romans had to do was march down the Via Annia. Where would be best?
Maron whimpered, distracting her. Ariadne retreated into the tent, racking her brains. There had to be somewhere that they could go. She would ask the god. Dionysus had helped her previously. Perhaps he would again now.
‘You prick!’ hissed Castus when they were clear of the throng. ‘You told her when you would leave before me?’
‘I said I’d see how the land lay after we got to Thurii. I didn’t say when I’d leave.’
‘We hadn’t even talked about that!’ Castus spat.
‘We had decided that we wouldn’t make any definite decisions until then. By inference, that meant we would move some time after that.’ Gannicus couldn’t stop the sarcasm creeping into his voice.
‘Don’t you fucking patronise me!’ shouted Castus. ‘I thought we were supposed to be acting together?’
‘We are.’
‘Well, if you want me and my men as allies, and I’d wager my left ball that I’ve got a damn sight more of them than you’ — here Castus shoved his face right into Gannicus’ — ‘there’d better be more sharing of information in future.’
Gannicus had had enough of Castus and his perpetual grievances. He shoved the redhead hard in the chest. ‘Screw you! I’ve told you before that if you want to go it alone, you can do it anytime. See how far you get with only five or six thousand men! You’ll be massacred by the first Roman legion that you come across.’
‘Is that right?’ Castus’ sword hummed free.
‘Oh, so you want to fight me now?’ snapped Gannicus, beginning to draw his own weapon.
‘No, I want to chop you into little fucking pieces.’
Gannicus felt his own rage beginning to rise. With an effort, he brought it under control. He wasn’t scared of taking on Castus, but it was a pointless exercise that would end with one or both of them injured or dead. He let his blade slide back into the scabbard. ‘This is stupid.’
Castus darted forward. ‘There’s nothing stupid about hewing your smart-arse head from your neck,’ he cried, drawing back his right arm. ‘Tell Hades I said “Hello”.’
‘You know I’m not a coward, Castus. You know I’m also your equal with a sword. Before you kill me, think about what you’re doing. Remember our plan to seize control of the whole army? To be like Brennus, the chieftain of old?’
It was as if someone had thrown Castus into a pool of icy water. A degree of sanity returned to his eyes.
‘Is that what you want still?’ Gannicus continued.
‘Of course.’
‘Then put away your damn weapon. Let’s talk about how we can make our idea a reality instead of butchering each other like a pair of drunken warriors arguing over a woman.’
Lowering his arm, Castus leaned towards him. ‘We could start by going back and slitting that bitch’s throat — and killing the baby too.’
‘I’d do it in a heartbeat, but we would never get close enough. Did you not see how closely the Scythians were watching? Even if we managed it, the men would turn on us when they found out.’
Castus looked disappointed. ‘Best to do something like that at night, I suppose. Secretly.’
‘Let’s stay focused on one idea.’ Gannicus glanced around. ‘Killing Spartacus. Once he’s out of the picture, it will be a lot easier to rally the army around us. Ariadne and the brat can be dispatched then too.’
‘Egbeo and Pulcher will also need to be killed.’
‘Agreed.’
‘What had you in mind? An ambush on him when he’s coming back here?’
Gannicus winked.
Castus’ answering grin was predatory. ‘How will they find him?’
‘It’s a gamble, I know, but I’d say that he and Carbo will travel the same way they went to Rome. Straight down the Via Annia.’
‘You’re right. All they’ll need to do is find a good spot to spy on the road some distance from here. They can do the job at night.’ Castus’ grin slipped. ‘We can’t send Gauls in case anyone sees them and points the finger at us.’
‘I’ve got a group of mixed bloods in mind. You know the types.’
Castus nodded. On the large latifundia, it was common for slaves of different origins to have children together. Thousands of the soldiers in Spartacus’ army were such. These men felt no loyalty to one race or another, as the Gauls, Thracians and Germans did.
‘They’re mostly farm slaves, former herders and the like. They answer to me, not Spartacus, and every one of them would slit their own mothers’ throats for a purse of silver.’
Suspicion flared in Castus’ eyes. ‘You’re not just sending your men. Not for something this big.’
‘Send a few of your lot as well,’ replied Gannicus, holding up his hands. ‘But make sure that they’re capable of getting the job done.’
‘If we pick five each, that will be plenty. Even Spartacus can’t kill ten men.’
‘He’s not alone, remember?’
‘Surely you’re not worried about that little sewer rat Carbo?’
‘Worried? No. But he can handle himself in a fight.’ Gannicus sucked in his moustache. ‘Ten men should be enough, though.’
‘They’d best leave tonight. Gods, but I’d love to go myself.’ Castus eyed Gannicus sidelong. ‘Make sure the job’s done properly.’
‘No.’
‘Why not? Spartacus won’t tell any tales afterwards.’ He leered. ‘Neither will his little catamite.’
