the courtyard.
Dreading what he would see, Carbo peered over Spartacus’ shoulder. Only one Gaul was on his feet. He was idly picking his nails with a dagger and watching Crixus and the third man pound away at the two women. Carbo wiped away the tears of fury that sprang to his eyes. This was no time for weakness.
Spartacus’ lips framed the word ‘Perfect’ at each of them. Then his left hand chopped forward in a clear command to move. He and the Scythians darted forward like arrows released from hunters’ bows. Carbo scrambled to keep up.
They silently covered the twenty strides in perhaps four heartbeats. By the time the Gaul who was standing realised anything was wrong, he had Atheas’ sword tickling his neck. He dropped his dagger with a soft clunk into a flower bed. Spartacus lifted a finger to his lips, and the frightened warrior nodded. Crixus and his companion were oblivious, still thrusting into their victims with wild abandon. Unsurprisingly, the women had their eyes closed. Chloris had a fist in her mouth, and was biting down on it.
Carbo’s rage began to consume him utterly. It was no longer just about rescuing Chloris. He wanted to kill the Gauls too. That’s why Spartacus put me at the back, he realised. He knew how I’d react.
‘Crixus!’ shouted Spartacus.
The big Gaul’s head turned. Shock twisted his features. Cursing, he pulled out of Chloris’ companion and clambered to his feet. His friend hurried to do the same. Both men had left their mail shirts on, but they were naked from the waist down. Carbo could see blood on their pricks, and now his fury boiled over. ‘You fucking animals!’ he screamed. He tried to shove past Spartacus, but the Thracian’s iron-hard arm blocked his way.
‘I thought you’d go running to your master. Damn coward,’ growled Crixus at Carbo. He eyeballed Spartacus. Unlike his comrades, there was no fear in his face. He had the sense not to reach for a weapon, however. ‘What business have you here?’
‘Carbo asked me to come,’ said Spartacus. ‘One of these is his woman.’
‘I doubt he’ll want her any longer,’ said Crixus, leering. ‘She’s got my seed and Lugurix’s in her already. Segomaros was giving her a good pounding too.’ The man beside him smiled, and Carbo strained furiously, uselessly, at Spartacus’ arm.
‘That’s as maybe,’ snapped Spartacus. ‘But it ends here. The girl is coming with us. So is the other one.’
‘I am one of the leaders of this whole damn rebellion,’ Crixus thundered, the veins on his neck bulging. ‘I can do what I like.’
‘Not here, you can’t. Chloris has been Carbo’s woman since Amatokos was killed. You know that.’
Crixus took a step towards Spartacus. ‘What are you going to do — kill me if I try to stop you?’
‘If I have to, yes,’ came the calm reply. Spartacus’ sica hung by his side, but Carbo knew that if Crixus so much as moved towards his sword, which lay five paces away, he’d be a dead man. The others would meet the same fate at the Scythians’ hands.
The Gauls realised the same thing.
Crixus stared at Spartacus with obvious loathing for a moment before grunting, ‘As you wish. I wouldn’t want to blunt my blade on the bitches anyway.’ He looked to his men. ‘After all that rutting, I have a raging thirst on me. Let’s find some wine, if it hasn’t all been drunk by now.’ Chuckling, he reached for his licium.
With an effort, Chloris sat up. Wanting to help her, Carbo pushed against Spartacus’ arm. ‘Wait,’ the Thracian hissed. ‘Let them leave first.’
Grudgingly, Carbo obeyed. He marked the faces of Crixus’ companions. Gods help me, I’ll kill you both if I ever get a chance. Crixus too.
No one could have predicted what happened next.
Swaying, Chloris got to her feet.
Carbo’s heart ached to see what had happened to her. Even with cuts to her face and with blood running down her thighs, she was still beautiful.
Chloris staggered forward a step, and her fingers grazed the plants that decorated the bed beside her. Then, suddenly, she was gripping a dagger. Segomaros, who was nearest to her, was busy shoving a leg into his undergarment. He didn’t see Chloris rush forward. Too late, he felt the blade ramming through his mail and into the flesh of his back. An unearthly scream tore free of his lips, and he staggered with the force of her blow. Snarling like a dog, Chloris stabbed him several more times, punching through his armour with ease. With a loud groan, Segomaros sank to his knees. ‘The bitch has killed me, Crixus,’ he said in surprise, before falling on to his face. He kicked once or twice and was still.
A heartbeat later, Chloris toppled on top of him in a dead faint.
‘You whore!’ roared Crixus, scooping up his sword. ‘I’ll kill you!’
‘With me, Taxacis!’ Spartacus sprang forward, sica at the ready.
The Scythian bounded to his side. So did Carbo. Together, they stood between Crixus and Chloris. Off to one side, Atheas threatened Lugurix.
‘Get out of my fucking way!’ shouted Crixus.
‘Leave now,’ ordered Spartacus. ‘You’re not having her.’
Crixus’ face went purple with fury. ‘The life of a stinking slave is worth more than one of my warriors?’
‘On this occasion, yes.’
‘Can the bitch fight, as Segomaros could?’
‘No.’
‘What damn use is she then? I demand her life! It’s no less than she deserves for stabbing a man in the back.’
‘A man who had just raped her,’ said Spartacus acidly.
‘I want her dead regardless.’
‘Carbo wishes her to live.’
‘Who cares about him? He’s a filthy Roman! This is about what I want,’ bellowed Crixus.
‘Carbo is one of my men. He’s loyal too, which is far more than I can say for you.’
‘So that’s how it is.’ Crixus’ slit eyes were like two piss holes in the snow.
‘That’s right,’ said Spartacus coldly. It had to come out sooner or later.
Crixus hawked and spat at Spartacus’ feet. ‘We’re not wanted here, Lugurix,’ he growled. ‘Let’s go.’
Silence reigned as Crixus and Lugurix withdrew to the doors of the tablinum.
‘This isn’t over by a long shot, Spartacus! I won’t forget whom you favour over me,’ the huge Gaul shouted. ‘That whore should watch her back from now on. Your catamite better be on his guard too.’
It was only when Crixus was gone that Carbo realised he’d been holding his breath. Dropping his sword, he ran to where Chloris lay. He rolled her over gently. ‘Chloris? You’re safe now. Can you hear me? It’s me, Carbo.’
She moaned, and her eyelids fluttered. ‘You came back. Thank you.’
‘Of course I did.’
‘I’m very tired. I think I’ll sleep now.’ Her eyes closed.
‘I’ll find you a bed,’ said Carbo with new determination. His gaze scanned the rooms that surrounded the courtyard. Then he remembered Spartacus. Red-faced with embarrassment, he spun around. ‘I cannot thank you enough. You saved her life.’
‘I’m glad we came in time. Do you understand why I wouldn’t let you kill Crixus?’
‘Because he leads too many men. You need him still.’
‘That’s right. For the moment, I need him, the same way I need Castus and Gannicus and their men.’ A wry smile crooked his lips. ‘Those two are a trifle easier to keep in line, however.’
‘They are.’ Curse Crixus to Hades and beyond, thought Carbo.
‘Fortunately, the big bastard needs me too. It suits him to stay.’ Spartacus glanced around the courtyard. ‘You can manage now? I’ll leave Atheas to help.’ And to protect you, was the unspoken meaning. ‘Ariadne will come as soon as I can find her.’
‘Yes. Thank you.’ It was a dangerous game that Spartacus had played, Carbo realised, watching him leave. Gratitude filled him that the Thracian should go so far for him. While Atheas made the house secure, Carbo went in search of the girl. She could show him where the best bedroom and the baths were. He hoped too that Ariadne would arrive quickly. Chloris needed all the care that he could get for her.
Spartacus’ mood as he walked away from the house was a good deal darker than Carbo’s. For all his
