reduced, but sixty thousand men still ate a vast amount of bread every day. Unless Heracleo appeared within the next couple of weeks, their grain would run out. Then they would have to break through Crassus’ fortifications. That wasn’t a prospect that he wanted to be forced into.
He turned to study the land to his rear. Like much of the region’s coast, there was only a narrow area of flat ground bordering the sea. In some places it was as much as half a mile or a mile wide, but in others, it was little more than a strip of sand. The majority of the toe was formed by steep, rolling hills, the beech-covered tops of which were often shrouded in lowering grey clouds. With the Scythians in tow, he had traversed the highest peaks, his mission to inspect the legions at work. The Romans’ blockade had been constructed at one of the narrowest parts of the toe, some ten miles to the north. Thanks to the vertiginous terrain, there had been little need for Crassus’ soldiers to erect any defences at all, other than on the coastline. Dangerously steep wooded slopes, jagged peaks and fast-flowing rivers meant that the interior was only suitable for the deer, wild sheep and wolves whose territory it was. On a mountaintop ridge Spartacus had located one spot suitable to move north — but so had Crassus, who had spared no effort in the construction of the defences there. They were truly impressive. Slaves had laboured to build an inverted ‘V’-shaped earthen barrier that was topped by stone and twice the height of a man. Sharpened stakes bristled from the wall’s outer surface, and a deep ditch running in front of it had been lined with spiked pits. Catapults lined the ramparts, and large numbers of legionaries were on duty night and day. Only one approach had been left, a narrow path that would force any attackers into the point of the ‘V’, where they could be pummelled from both sides.
Watching from a distance, Spartacus had been quietly impressed. If they had to take it, the loss of life among his soldiers would be huge. It would be at less cost than a frontal assault on the flat ground, however. Seven legions were massed on the western side of the toe, near his army, and two guarded the eastern coast. There was no point marching to that point, hoping to overwhelm the enemy defences. Crassus’ scouts, of whom there were many in the area, would pass on the news. Wherever he led his men, thought Spartacus grimly, the Romans would be waiting. Except on the ridge. A single legion held that narrow section.
Trying to shift his thoughts from the bloody images that sprang to mind, he returned his gaze to the sea. Some distance out, a dolphin leaped out of the water. It was followed by another, and another. Soon Spartacus had counted eight. He grinned at their mischievous play, their clear pleasure at swimming together. They are truly free.
At first, the sail that came into sight beyond the dolphins didn’t register.
When it did, Spartacus’ heart leaped. Could the gods have answered his prayers?
Taxacis’ guttural voice broke the silence. ‘A ship!’
‘I see it,’ said Spartacus, keeping his voice calm.
‘Is it… merchant?’ asked Atheas.
‘We’ll have to wait and see,’ replied Spartacus. He settled down on his haunches. Perhaps it was because of the dolphins, but he had a good feeling in his belly.
They waited for a long time. No one spoke, but the silence between them was companionable. There was plenty to watch. Drawn by the same shoal of fish as the dolphins, hundreds of gulls swooped and dived over the waves. Successful birds rose in triumph with a fish in their beaks, and screeched indignantly at any of their fellows that tried to steal their catch. Eventually, the vessel drew near enough for its shape to be determined. Spartacus eyed the long, predatory shape with undisguised glee. ‘If that’s a merchantman, my name’s Marcus Licinius Crassus!’
Atheas squinted at him. ‘No. You… still ugly… as ever.’
Taxacis chortled.
‘It’s not big enough to be a trireme,’ mused Spartacus. ‘It must be a bireme.’
The ship sailed closer to the shore. With increasing excitement, they waited until it was parallel with their position. As Spartacus had thought, there were two sets of oars, one above the other. It had a sharp prow and a typical rounded stern. A large rectangular sail billowed from a central mast. At a rough estimate, there were thirty to forty oarsmen a side. Other figures lined the sides. What drew Spartacus’ attention more than the crew, however, were the weapons on view.
‘Those are catapults on the deck!’ he cried, jumping up and down. ‘Here! Here!’ he roared.
The Scythians copied him, and a moment later, it was clear that they had been seen. A shouted command and the ship hove to. The oars were shipped, and an anchor thrown out. Several men scrambled into the little boat that was tied astern.
Spartacus glanced at Atheas, who was already fingering his sword. ‘Let’s play it friendly. We don’t want to scare them off. You too, Taxacis.’
Taxacis nodded, but Atheas adopted a false hurt expression, which made him look even fiercer. ‘I… always friendly!’
For the first time in weeks, Spartacus laughed.
The rowing boat didn’t take long to reach the beach. As soon as it was in the shallows, three of the four heavily armed men within jumped out. Led by a short, dark-skinned figure, they waded ashore. They stopped a short distance away.
‘Well met,’ said Spartacus, his manner amiable.
‘Well met,’ replied the dark-skinned man suspiciously. ‘Who are you?’
‘I could ask the same of you, my friend.’
‘You don’t have three catapults trained on you,’ retorted the pirate.
He didn’t bother checking. ‘Since you spoke first, I will answer. I am Spartacus the Thracian. You may have heard of me.’
The pirate’s composure slipped a little. ‘How can you prove this?’ he demanded. ‘Half the brigands in Italy probably claim the same thing.’
‘I have no need to demonstrate who I am. In the next bay sits an army sixty thousand strong. Ask any soldier in it who their leader is.’
The pirate’s manner changed at once. ‘It is an honour to meet you. I am Heracleo. Your messenger — Carbo, was it? — may have spoken of me. We met near Croton some time since.’
‘He did. You were to bring as many ships as you could. You brought but one,’ said Spartacus, showing none of his concern.
‘It was more difficult than I expected to recruit ships. The market at Delos is busier than ever, and all that most captains are concerned with is finding slaves to sell there. The reality of that is easier to believe in than my tale. But do not fear, everything is in order.’ Heracleo flashed a greasy smile. ‘Two captains of my acquaintance operate in this area. I sent word to them, arranging a meeting to the north of here. A couple of days, and I’ll return with at least one trireme and another bireme. Maybe more, if the word has gone out as I’ve hoped.’
Spartacus’ eyes held Heracleo’s for several moments, but the pirate did not look away. The dog is telling the truth, or he’s a damn good liar, he thought. ‘I had hoped for more vessels, but three should suffice. How many soldiers can each ship transport at a time?’
‘For a short crossing like this?’ Heracleo waved dismissively at Sicily. ‘The biremes can carry fifty, perhaps even sixty each. The trireme will take nearly a hundred.’
Spartacus did a quick mental calculation. ‘About a dozen trips should see my men on the other side then.’
‘Indeed, indeed,’ agreed Heracleo. A greedy look entered his eyes. ‘And the price-’
‘It remains the same,’ interrupted Spartacus.
‘I was to be paid a hundred and twenty-five thousand denarii when I arrived.’
‘When you arrived with ships. I see only one.’
Heracleo licked his lips. ‘The other captains might need some evidence of your… goodwill.’
Spartacus didn’t trust the pirate, but the fact that Heracleo had turned up was a good indicator that he might honour his side of the bargain. It would be politic to keep him sweet. Like it or not, he had far more to lose than Heracleo. ‘You’ve been honourable thus far. As a friendly gesture, I’d be willing to give you twenty thousand denarii more. What captain wouldn’t be persuaded to help when you hand him some of that?’
Heracleo sucked in a breath, considering. Then he was all smiles. ‘Thank you. How soon could-’
‘Wait here. I’ll have a party of my men bring the money at once.’ Heracleo rubbed his hands together and Spartacus gave him a warning look. ‘Play me false, and I’ll hunt you down, even if it takes me the rest of my days.
