gasped a little, and looked down at Spartacus’ dagger, which was buried to the hilt in his chest.
‘That’s more than you deserve, you traitorous piece of shit.’ Spartacus savagely twisted the blade to and fro before pulling it free. His eyes already glazing over, Publipor slumped backwards on to his bed and lay still. A hot tide of blood began saturating the blankets.
Spartacus regarded him without emotion. He wished that he’d never gone hunting that day. Never set eyes on Publipor. Never taken him into his trust. But it was too late for that. Too late for so many things. ‘At least we know who the spy was,’ he said in a dry tone.
‘I should have seen through his story,’ said Carbo angrily.
‘How? It was entirely feasible. There could be a score of others like him in the army, with different motives, but the same desire to do me harm. That’s why I trust only a handful of men, such as you two.’ Spartacus stood up and walked outside.
‘What shall we do with him?’ called Carbo.
‘Leave him out for the wolves. He shouldn’t have any better treatment than any of those who died at the ridge.’
The fractured army spent two weeks on the march, passing from Bruttium to Lucania. Spartacus was aiming for Campania, one of the most fertile regions of Italy and the birthplace of the rebellion. Keen to get a head start on Crassus, he had driven his men harder than ever before; unencumbered by baggage or supplies, and free of their previous raggle-taggle of followers, they were able to cover twenty-five miles per day. Spartacus had taken charge of a shaggy white stallion, one of the largest horses belonging to any his cavalrymen. Riding up and down the column made it far easier to encourage his men. Realising what he was doing, Castus’ and Gannicus’ soldiers had matched the furious pace. The tactic worked. Soon his scouts were reporting that the legions were more than thirty miles behind them, and marching at a slower speed.
Spartacus took heart from this, and allowed his men a much-needed day off. Before moving to Samnium, he hoped to lure new recruits to his cause. He began the process by sending raiding parties to the biggest latifundia, their mission not just to find grain and supplies, but to win over the slaves they encountered there. Upwards of 250 men joined from the first two estates; after a few weeks Spartacus was sure that number would turn to thousands. Navio would soon whip them into shape. All they had to do was avoid confrontation with Crassus’ legions until the recruits had been trained, and in the mountains of Samnium, that would not prove too difficult. Spring had arrived and, with it, better weather. In the coming days, the countryside would start yielding its own bounty of plants, nuts and berries. They wouldn’t have to rely exclusively on raiding homesteads and farms.
When word came one morning that Castus and Gannicus were leaving, Spartacus was oddly surprised. As a man learns to live with his lice, he had grown used to the Gauls and their followers shadowing his army. It was hard not to be pleased, however, like a man who exchanges his infested tunic for a new one. Keen to see their departure for himself, he took Carbo, the Scythians and a century of soldiers. Even at this late stage, there was no point laying himself open to attack. Ariadne insisted on coming with him. She was carrying the basket containing her snake, so Spartacus did not object. The god might have spoken to her.
He found the troublesome pair marshalling their troops outside the camp. It was difficult to tell how many there were, but Spartacus guessed that it was somewhere in the region of ten thousand. Five eagles and nearly thirty Roman standards provided the proud focal point for the men, the badges of their achievements thus far. Spartacus wasn’t worried about losing the Roman emblems; he was grateful instead that there were few horsemen among them.
‘Come to make sure we’re leaving?’ shouted Castus.
‘I thought you’d decided to stay,’ retorted Spartacus. ‘It’s been a while since my men broke through the blockade.’
Castus’ lips twisted. ‘Our soldiers would have done it as easily as yours. Seeing as you wanted to take the glory — again — we didn’t see any point in arguing over it.’ He winked at Gannicus, who smirked.
Spartacus felt his anger swell. It had been a shrewd move by the Gauls. His troops had taken all the casualties while theirs had remained unscathed. He let out a slow breath. Just let them leave. ‘ Where will you go?’
‘Who knows?’ answered Gannicus with a shrug. ‘Wherever the pickings are richest.’
‘Wherever the best-looking women are to be found,’ added Castus.
A cheer from their men.
Animals. Spartacus didn’t probe further. Even if they knew, the Gauls wouldn’t tell him. ‘Watch your step. As the weaker group, Crassus will target you first.’
‘Screw you,’ roared Castus. ‘We have nearly thirteen thousand men here!’
It was a larger number than Spartacus had expected, but he was careful not to show his displeasure. ‘You’ve got about the same number of troops as in two and a half legions, but almost no horse. Sadly, Crassus has four times that number of men, and plenty of cavalry. In my mind, that’s not wonderful odds.’ He was gratified by the unhappy expressions that appeared on some of the faces opposite.
Castus’ mouth worked furiously, but Gannicus got in first. ‘We’re no fools, Spartacus. Crassus won’t find us easy to find, or to defeat.’
They glared at one another for a moment.
‘If you hadn’t proved to be so treacherous, I’d wish you well. As it is, I’ll be glad to see the back of you.’
‘The feeling is mutual,’ jeered Castus. ‘I’ll see you in Hades sometime.’
Before Spartacus could answer, Ariadne had swept forward, her snake prominent in her right hand. Castus paled. Although he was nowhere near, he moved back a pace.
‘Thus far, you have escaped paying for your crimes, Castus,’ said Ariadne loudly. ‘The gods deemed that it should be so. Do not think that you will enjoy their protection for ever.’
‘Crimes? Piss off, woman! Peddle your lies elsewhere!’ cried Castus, but his voice was a tone higher than normal.
‘I predict that you will have a violent end.’
‘Ha! Nothing wrong with that!’ roared Castus.
Some of his men shouted in agreement. Gannicus even laughed. ‘That’s what every warrior wants.’
‘It will be soon, however,’ intoned Ariadne. ‘In a matter of days. And it will come at the hands of the Romans.’
Gannicus scowled, but Castus’ confidence oozed out of him like piss out of a pricked bladder. ‘You’re lying!’
Ariadne raised her snake high. The gesture was met by a hushed, reverential Ahhhhh. ‘This is Dionysus’ sacred creature, and I am one of his priestesses! I do not lie about such things. Best hope that someone is left to bury your body, Castus! Otherwise your tormented soul will be cursed to wander the earth for ever.’
‘That kind of superstitious claptrap doesn’t scare me, you stupid bitch!’
Ariadne was delighted. Castus’ bluster couldn’t conceal the fact that he was severely rattled. Most of the men within earshot looked unhappy, including Gannicus.
‘Unless you want to head for Hades right now, watch your mouth, cocksucker,’ roared Spartacus. Sure that Castus wouldn’t take up his challenge, he took a few steps forwards.
‘Shit for brains! You’re outnumbered a hundred to one!’ snapped Castus.
‘That wouldn’t stop me killing you, and taking great pleasure as I did so,’ hissed Spartacus. Ariadne touched his arm, but he shook it off. ‘Just say the word and we can get down to it.’
Castus held Spartacus’ eye for a moment before his gaze dropped away. ‘Time to move,’ he growled.
Coward! thought Spartacus. You know I’d kill you. His risk-taking side wished that the Gaul had taken his challenge, but the rest of him knew it would have led to pointless bloodshed, and possibly his own death. A stupid way to die.
‘If you’ve stopped quarrelling,’ said Gannicus sourly, ‘are you ready?’
‘Yes, yes!’ Castus shouted a command to his officers and stalked off.
Gannicus didn’t immediately follow. He glanced at Spartacus and gave him a respectful nod, as if to say, ‘In other circumstances, things might have been different.’ Then he too walked away.
Spartacus’ shoulders relaxed a fraction. ‘May they kill thousands of legionaries, wherever they go. And may Crassus never catch them,’ he said quietly. He looked at Ariadne. ‘How many days will it be before he dies?’
‘I’m not sure.’
