of dealing with a rogue gladiator. His task is simple, and straightforward. I imagine that we’ll see him back here within the month, his mission successfully completed.’
Varinius winked at his colleagues, who grinned like happy children. Lucius Cossinius, a broad-shouldered man, puffed out his chest. ‘If I get the chance, I’ll fight and kill Spartacus myself.’
Laughter and roars of approval met this comment.
‘I look forward to hearing all about it,’ said Crassus, stepping back into the crowd. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you,’ he added.
Cossinius chuckled.
Cocksure fool, Crassus thought. You’d best hope that your men cut Spartacus down, because you wouldn’t have a hope against him.
Carbo was glad not to encounter any rebel patrols until they’d reached Vesuvius and begun making their way through the fields of wheat stubble that covered its lower slopes. When they finally did run into a section of ten men, Carbo was recognised. The patrol leader accepted his word that Navio was another slave who’d come to join Spartacus, and they continued their climb to the crater.
‘Now do you see why I made you take off your belt?’
‘Otherwise they’d have known me for a soldier.’
‘Precisely. And you’d already be food for those.’ Carbo pointed at a pair of vultures that were circling overhead.
‘Fair enough. It would be stupid to be killed before I’ve even had a chance to plead my case,’ admitted Navio. He squinted at the peak above them. ‘It’s a good place to choose for a camp. Hard to approach. Easy to defend.’
‘We can’t stay there forever, though. The next commander to arrive will be wise to the trick we played on Glaber. He’d just starve us out.’
‘Where’s Spartacus going to go next?’
‘South, I’d say. Away from Rome.’
‘That makes sense. Has he mentioned Sicily?’
‘What, because of the slave uprisings there?’ He hadn’t thought of Sicily before, but then he wasn’t a soldier, like Navio.
‘Yes. I’d say that two large-scale rebellions within thirty years of each other makes for fertile recruiting ground, wouldn’t you?’
Carbo flushed. ‘Where would we get the ships to transport thousands of men?’
‘The Cilician pirates sail in these waters. I’m sure some of their captains would be open to offers.’
‘Pirates would sell their own mothers into whoredom if they fetched a good enough price.’
‘Beggars can’t be choosers. There won’t be too many other candidates willing to carry a slave army.’
Annoyed and impressed at the same time, Carbo did not reply. They were nearing the crater, and his nerves began to jangle. Stop it! Navio would be an asset to any leader.
They found Spartacus drilling a large group of slaves. He had them in pairs, armed with scuta and swords, sparring against each other, and was stalking among them, barking orders and reprimands in equal measure. Atheas and Taxacis lounged nearby, in the shade of a tree. They eyed Navio with naked suspicion. Seeing this, Carbo’s skin snaked with dread. He stopped in his tracks.
Navio shot him a concerned look.
Carbo rallied his courage. ‘Spartacus!’
Spartacus turned. His eyes flickered to Navio, and returned to Carbo. ‘You’re back.’ Pausing to correct the way a dark-skinned slave held his shield, he strolled over. Like shadows, so too did the Scythians. ‘What news?’ he demanded.
‘There’s not a word of any troops in Neapolis.’
‘That’s to be expected, I suppose. They probably don’t see the need to come from more than one direction.’ Spartacus saw Carbo’s surprise. ‘You weren’t the first to return. Aventianus got back last night. Apparently, there’s a large force about to set out from Rome. Two praetors, a legate and six thousand legionaries. The praetor in charge is called Publius Varinius. They’ll be here in less than a week.’
‘Shit.’ What use is Navio now?
‘You could say that.’ Spartacus smiled, but his eyes were like two chips of flint. He jerked his head at Navio. ‘Is this someone you picked up on the way back?’
‘I thought he’d be useful to us.’
‘Of course he will. Every sword will count — even if the men using them are more used to handling a hoe or a spade.’ Spartacus studied Navio. His gaze lingered on his hair, and Carbo’s worries increased tenfold. ‘Ever held a gladius in your hand?’ demanded Spartacus.
‘Plenty of times,’ answered Navio stolidly.
‘Really?’ Spartacus glanced at the Scythians.
Without a word, Atheas and Taxacis glided to stand on either side of him.
Spartacus’ stare returned to Carbo. ‘Care to explain?’
Carbo could think of nothing to say apart from the simple truth. ‘He’s a Roman soldier.’
He didn’t have time to add that Navio wanted to join them. Atheas and Taxacis leaped forward in unison, drawing their swords as they moved. A heartbeat later, Navio had a blade pricking the skin on each side of his neck. He was careful not to move a muscle, but his eyes flickered to Carbo’s. ‘Tell my story!’
The Scythians looked at Spartacus. ‘Kill him?’ asked Atheas hopefully.
‘In a moment,’ said Spartacus. His face grew fiercer than Carbo had ever seen. ‘You’ll be joining this prick in Hades, Carbo, unless you can persuade me otherwise. I don’t take kindly to Roman soldiers strolling into my camp, especially when they’ve been invited by one of my own men.’
‘It’s not how it seems,’ said Carbo desperately. ‘Navio’s no friend to the Senate! He’s been fighting Rome for years. He was one of Sertorius’ men.’
‘Sertorius?’
‘You’ve heard of Marius?’
‘Of course.’
‘Sertorius was one of his men.’
Spartacus’ nostrils pinched white with anger. ‘You’d best do better than that. I can remember when Sulla passed through Thrace on his way to Pontus. The bastard left a swathe of destruction in his wake that was several miles wide. I can’t believe that Marius would have been any different if he’d ever got that far.’
‘Sertorius wasn’t like that,’ protested Carbo. Spartacus’ expression did not change, so he hurried on. ‘After Marius’ death, things went against his supporters in Italy, so Sertorius fled to Iberia. So too did Navio and his family. Sertorius quickly raised an army from the Iberian tribes. He carved out a large territory for himself, and defeated the legions sent against him by the Senate on numerous occasions. He held out for the best part of a decade, but he was murdered by a traitor a few months ago. The general Pompey Magnus had little difficulty mopping up his supporters after that. Navio survived the final battle and made his way back to Neapolis, his home town.’
‘Why didn’t you fall on your sword?’ snarled Spartacus at Navio. ‘I thought that was the Roman way after defeat.’
‘It is,’ said Navio, before adding fiercely, ‘but that would end the fight. I still want vengeance on Rome! The deaths of my father, brother and Sertorius have not been paid for in blood.’
‘Even if what you say is true, you’re only one man. One sword. Why would I even risk taking you in?’ Spartacus drew a finger across his throat. ‘If my men kill you, they can just toss you off the cliff. That’d be one less thing for me to think about.’
‘Because he can help you to train our men!’ cried Carbo, acutely aware that if sentence of death fell on Navio, it would fall on them both. Atheas and Taxacis would kill him without even blinking. Jupiter, watch over me now. ‘Navio’s an officer and a veteran soldier. He has years of experience instructing men to fight as legionaries.’
Spartacus rounded on Navio like a snake about to strike. ‘Is that true?’
‘It is. Virtually all of our soldiers were Iberian tribesmen. They were warriors, and brave too, but hadn’t the first idea about discipline, or fighting as a unit. Sertorius’ orders were that every new recruit had to be taught to fight in the Roman manner. I’ve done it with hundreds of men.’
Spartacus’ expression became calculating, and Carbo held his breath. ‘What would you do with this lot here?’
