‘Why wouldn’t I? You’re a handsome man.’ She reached up to trace the line of his jaw with a finger. ‘I’ve thought that from the first time we met. When you saved me from Kotys’ men.’
‘That seems a lifetime ago.’ There was a touch of wistfulness in his voice. ‘But I can remember your face as if it were yesterday. You were quite the beauty. And still are,’ he added, smiling.
‘Don’t leave like this,’ she said, trying to keep the emotion from her voice.
‘I’ll come back in when I’ve finished talking with the officers.’
She nodded, grateful that the semi-darkness concealed the tears welling in her eyes.
Helmet under one arm and carrying his shield, Spartacus walked outside. His stomach knotted in a familiar reaction. It felt similar to the times he’d emerged from the tunnel into the gladiatorial arena. Instead of a single opponent, he found Pulcher, Egbeo, Navio and Carbo waiting for him. All four were dressed for a fight. Plumes of exhaled air rose above them into the cool air, and they stamped from foot to foot in an effort to stay warm. Rather than banks of seating full of baying spectators, the black outline of a huge massif loomed to their rear.
After nearly a week of marching north and west and aware that Crassus was closing in, Spartacus had been grateful to find this valley. It was bounded on both sides by mountains. To the east, the sheer-faced plateau behind him, and to the west, a line of similarly high, but more undulating peaks. At the valley’s bottom was a river, the Silarus, which meandered westwards to Campania’s coastal plain. The land here was fertile. Farmhouses were dotted throughout the olive groves and fields. On this side of the river, there was a significant amount of open space given over purely to the cultivation of wheat. It was what had attracted Spartacus’ eye as he’d spied out the terrain from the top of the massif two days earlier. There wasn’t too much flat ground — he estimated it was about two miles wide. That was enough for his troops to deploy without giving Crassus’ legions the space to envelop them. It would constrain the effectiveness of his cavalry, but that couldn’t be helped. Time was not on their side, so this battlefield would have to suffice.
They hadn’t been here for long — twelve hours? — before the Roman scouts had found them. It had only taken another night and day for the legions to appear. They had come from the opposite direction to Spartacus’ army: up the valley from the west, a snaking column that had taken five hours to arrive fully. It was clear from the outset that Crassus was keen for a fight. Instead of using the Silarus as a natural barrier, first his cavalry and then his legionaries had forded the watercourse. They had set up camp on the bank, at the edge of the open ground that led up towards Spartacus’ men’s tents. The provocative move had blocked off all avenues of retreat, except to the east, and short of attacking on the spot, had issued the most direct challenge possible.
Spartacus murmured a quiet greeting to his officers, who gave him tense nods in reply. He had already decided that Egbeo would command the left flank and Pulcher the right. Navio would be with him, in the centre. Carbo would stay with Ariadne and Maron, his job as before. ‘Have the sentries seen anything overnight?’ He had ordered pickets to be set up far beyond their own lines in case Crassus tried any tricks.
‘There hasn’t been a thing until just now, sir,’ said Pulcher.
Spartacus’ gaze fixed on the smith’s face. ‘What have they seen?’
‘It’s been too dark to see, sir. But they heard the sound of digging.’
‘Where?’
‘On the ground before both ends of Crassus’ camp, sir.’
‘The bastards must be digging trenches, to prevent our cavalry from charging.’
‘That was what I thought, sir,’ replied Pulcher with a scowl.
‘In that case, there’s only one thing to do.’
They stared at him without speaking.
‘Attack now. Disrupt the soldiers who are digging. With the Rider’s help, they’ll have to abandon the trenches without finishing them. Egbeo, you can take charge of the left flank, eh?’
The Thracian’s craggy face split into a smile. ‘Be my pleasure!’
‘Pulcher, you take the right.’
‘Of course.’
‘How many men will we take?’ asked Egbeo.
‘Six cohorts each should be enough. Any more, and they might not hear your orders. Take a few trumpeters each to be on the safe side. Push the Romans back, out of their trenches. When you’ve done that, withdraw. The rest of the army will be ready by then. Before you go, remember to instruct your officers to ready their men. Lastly, send the cavalry commanders to me. Well, what are you waiting for?’
With broad grins, the pair hurried away.
‘Where do you want us, sir?’ asked Navio.
‘You’re to stand with me, in the very centre.’
Navio grinned. ‘I’d be honoured.’
Spartacus’ eyes moved to Carbo. ‘My most loyal of men.’
Carbo’s stomach lurched. He suspected what Spartacus was going to say.
‘I want you to stay behind, to protect Ariadne and Maron. Today will be harder fought and more desperate than any of the battles we have fought. If things go wrong-’
‘Leave someone else!’ interrupted Carbo. ‘I won’t do it! Not this time!’ Beside him, Navio stiffened in surprise.
Spartacus’ eyes narrowed. ‘I could order you to do so.’
‘But you won’t,’ replied Carbo furiously.
‘Why in Hades won’t I?’
‘Because Crassus is the man who ruined my family. He’s the reason that my parents ended up in Varus’ house. He’s to blame for their deaths! This is the first chance since Rome that I will have had to kill him. It might be the only opportunity I’ll ever get, and you’re not going to take it away from me.’ Carbo glared at Spartacus, afraid yet unwilling to back down.
Navio’s worried eyes shot from one to the other.
‘Well, well,’ said Spartacus. ‘The young cock stands his ground at last!’
Carbo set his jaw and prepared for Spartacus’ rebuke, punishment, or even dismissal.
‘Very well, you can fight. Who am I to stand in the way of a man’s need for vengeance? I would ask that instead of positioning yourself with Egbeo and your cohort, you stand with me and Navio in the centre. Will you do that?’
Carbo’s throat closed with sudden emotion. ‘I–I’d be honoured.’
A brief smile. ‘Good. Best get to rousing the men, eh? I want the whole army ready to fight in within two hours.’
‘Yes, sir!’ Stunned at the ease with which Spartacus had given way, Carbo beat a hasty retreat. As well as obeying his orders, telling Arnax what to do if things went against them was paramount. Navio followed, threading his way between the dense lines of tents.
Spartacus watched them go. He glanced at the eastern sky, which was lightening fast. Daybreak had arrived. He caught first Atheas’ and then Taxacis’ eye. ‘With Carbo out of the picture, I had a mind to ask you, Taxacis, to protect Ariadne with Atheas if things went badly. I would feel better knowing that you were both by her side, but I think you would attract too much attention.’
Taxacis’ lips peeled upwards, and he pointed at the tattoos on his cheeks and arms. ‘These… get noticed.’
‘Which would not be the best thing for Ariadne or the baby. The less attention, the better. I will ask someone else.’ Aventianus, the slave with the scar on his cheek, Spartacus thought. He seemed a decent sort, and trustworthy.
‘I not… want miss fight anyway,’ muttered Taxacis.
‘Good! First, though, find a man called Aventianus — he’s in Navio’s cohort, I think — and bring him here.’ Putting down his helmet and sword, Spartacus ducked back into the tent.
‘What have you planned?’ Ariadne asked in a whisper. She was up, and fully dressed.
‘You look beautiful.’ Even in the poor light, he could see her blush. ‘It’s true!’
Ariadne’s emotions were surging between utter terror that she might never see him again, and pride in what he was about to do. ‘Hush. Tell me your plan.’
Spartacus told her about the Roman trenches. ‘My hope is that we can push the bastards back. If Egbeo and Pulcher can achieve that, the cavalry will still be of use. While the main part of the army is getting ready, they can
