‘What?’ cried Castus. Despite his diminutive size, he was one of the top fighters in the ludus. Gannicus was also clearly unhappy. His expression was mirrored by many of the men around the pool.
‘Ask any of the guards.’
‘Supposing it’s true,’ said Castus. ‘Why would that make us join you? We have no weapons, and all Batiatus’ men have bows. It’d be a slaughter.’
‘No, it wouldn’t!’ Spartacus replied contemptuously. ‘What can thirty guards do if nearly two hundred gladiators set upon them? Fuck all! We will succeed.’
Castus and Gannicus stared at each other. Carbo could tell that neither wanted to make the first move. Yet the eager muttering that had broken out among their men had to be answered. He felt Spartacus nudge him. ‘Now’s your chance.’ Loudly, Spartacus said, ‘Listen to the new auctoratus. He’s a local.’
Carbo cleared his throat. ‘There’s a huge mountain not far from here. Vesuvius, it’s called. It’s flat-topped, and hard to climb. It would be a good place to hide out. The land around it is given over to large farms, which would provide us with plenty of food and equipment.’
‘And women!’ cried a Gaul.
Carbo gaped. He hadn’t considered that option, and didn’t know how to answer.
Spartacus did. This hadn’t been his game plan, but it was imperative that Castus and Gannicus gave him their support. ‘There’ll be lots of women to be had. Plump ones. Skinny ones. Field slaves. Domestic slaves. More than any of you can fuck!’
A vociferous growl of approval met these words.
‘Well, when you put it like that,’ said Gannicus, leering, ‘it’s hard to refuse.’
His men began to cheer.
Yes! Spartacus’ gaze swivelled to Castus, who shrugged. ‘I’m sure my lot wouldn’t want to miss out. Would you, lads?’
The walls resounded with the din of a score or more of men bellowing in unison.
Spartacus raised his hands and, to Carbo’s surprise, the noise diminished at once.
‘If Batiatus or Phortis hear a word of this, we’ll be royally fucked.’
‘My boys can keep their mouths shut,’ said Gannicus.
‘Mine too.’ Castus’ eyes reminded Carbo of a snake’s. ‘Anyone who doesn’t will end up with his throat cut.’
‘Excellent. We’ll talk later, before we’re locked in for the night.’
‘When do we make our move?’ asked Castus.
The room went deathly silent.
‘There’s no point hanging about,’ Spartacus replied. ‘Tomorrow or the next day.’
‘You move fast,’ said Castus.
‘It’s too dangerous to delay. There’s always at least one rat in the grain store.’
‘I know what you mean,’ growled Castus. ‘I vote for tomorrow.’
‘Me too,’ added Gannicus keenly.
‘I’m not going to argue with that. The moment that they hand out the practice weapons then,’ answered Spartacus with a tight smile. Thank you, Great Rider!
Carbo waited until they were safely outside before he said anything. ‘You promised them indiscriminate rape!’
‘Of course I did.’
‘That’s barbaric!’
Spartacus stopped dead in his tracks. ‘You don’t have to come along if you don’t want to, boy.’
Carbo’s heart pounded. He didn’t want to be left behind. ‘No. I’m coming,’ he muttered.
‘Fine. Next time I want advice on tactics, I’ll ask you.’
Carbo coloured, and said nothing.
‘If it’s any consolation, I don’t like the idea of it either. But it’s going to happen anyway, no matter what. I won’t encourage it, but that’s how war is. All I did was to use the idea to turn the tide in my favour. If I hadn’t, Castus and Gannicus could well have refused to join me.’ Spartacus clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Us.’
‘I understand,’ said Carbo, feeling better.
Spartacus grinned. ‘Good.’
The hours that followed were the longest of Spartacus’ life. He did not want to be training, or running around the yard. Instead, he burned to be outside the high walls that surrounded him. Breathing the free air. Clapping his eyes on Vesuvius. He even pictured himself returning to Thrace. He had to make do with imagining it all, however. And trying not to dwell on his dream about the snake.
Spartacus waited until training was over for the day before talking to the Scythians who’d travelled with him from Illyria. While he wasn’t exactly friendly with them, Spartacus didn’t want the quartet to be completely in the dark about what would happen the next day. He approached them at the evening meal. To his surprise, the tattooed warriors greeted him with welcoming gestures. Spartacus didn’t know if they had learned sufficient Latin to understand his words, but their eager grunts of agreement soon proved different.
After dinner, it was as much as Spartacus could do to briefly talk with Oenomaus and Crixus before Phortis began ordering the gladiators back into their cells, much earlier than normal. Protests and curses filled the air. The Capuan’s reason, as he screamed repeatedly, was the three bodies that had been found in the toilets. Clearly, some men had given Castus and Gannicus cause for concern.
The best that Spartacus could manage was a meaningful look in Oenomaus’, Gavius’ and Crixus’ direction. He was reassured somewhat by the fierce grins that they flashed at him in return, but there had been no time to discuss who would do what when it all started. They’ll just have to follow my orders, he thought, praying that the five other leaders would comply. If one or more disagreed, it could prove disastrous.
Ariadne rushed to his side as he entered. ‘What’s been happening?’
‘A lot. Almost everyone is in. There should be around a hundred and eighty of us, all told.’ He threw her a smile. ‘More than enough.’
‘And the rest?’
‘We didn’t involve them. The stakes are too high. They don’t have standout leaders; they speak different languages. The room for misunderstanding is huge.’
‘That’s wise. When is it to be?’
‘In the morning, the moment that they distribute the practice weapons. There’s no point in waiting.’
‘That’s true. Seize the day,’ Ariadne said, yet inside, she was terrified. Protect us all, O Great Dionysus. Let us escape safely.
‘When it starts, you are to stay in here until I call you outside,’ Spartacus ordered. ‘Is that clear?’
‘I-’
‘No, Ariadne! It will be far too dangerous.’
Seeing the steel in his eyes, she nodded meekly. ‘Very well.’
‘By tomorrow evening, we’ll be sitting around a fire, enjoying our first night of freedom,’ Spartacus said confidently, refusing to imagine any other outcome.
Ariadne thought she was going to be sick. What if it all goes wrong?
‘Aren’t you pleased?’ Have you seen something? he wanted to ask.
‘I can’t wait,’ she managed. The gods grant that it will be so.
Spartacus did not ask why she was ill at ease. If I am to die tomorrow, I don’t want to know.
The next morning, the cock’s familiar crowing was most welcome. The waiting is almost over. Rolling over, Spartacus found Ariadne looking at him.
‘Ready?’
‘Yes.’ He scanned her face for clues. ‘Did anything come to you?’
‘No, nothing,’ she said lightly. My worries kept me tossing and turning instead. Yet, on this of all days, I have to show you the most confident face I have. ‘And you?’
‘No dreams that I can remember, thank the Rider.’ His lips quirked. ‘I was awake for much of the night. I fell asleep just before that damn bird started to call. I was glad to hear it, though. I couldn’t have taken much more in the way of killing time.’
‘I feel the same.’ Not until we are actually outside the ludus’ walls will I believe the gods are still with
