beaks and claws. No body had been spared.
Not the old and infirm, not the women, nor the children. All had been hacked to death.
Cato covered his mouth and nose as he looked about.
'What the hell happened here?' Fulvius muttered.
'The rebels must have attacked and found a way in,' Cato guessed.
'That's why they're all in the acropolis, and not at the refugee camp outside the city.'
'I thought you said they would be safe up here.'
'They should have been. It doesn't make sense.'
Both men were silent for a moment as they gazed at the scene of the massacre. Then Fulvius scratched his chin nervously. 'If the rebels could take Matala, then we have to assume that Gortyna is also in danger.'
Cato felt an icy spasm in his neck. Gortyna… Julia and Macro… He felt sick with despair and uncertainty. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat and turned to Fulvius.
'We have to get the rest of the column ashore at once and make for Gortyna before it's too late.'
'It may already be too late.'
Cato was stung by the implication of the other man's words. 'In that case,' he responded with chilling intensity, 'we still march on Gortyna. We will not rest until every last one of the rebels has paid for this with their lives.'
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
'Is there nothing that can be done to save him?' asked Ajax as they emerged from the farmhouse. Kharim wiped the traces of blood and pus from his hands with a linen rag, and then shook his head.
'I'm sorry, it's in the hands of the gods now. You might want to make a sacrifice to Asclepius and pray for his help. I have done all that I can for Chilo, but his wound has be come corrupted. I've seen it before, as have you. It will fester and poison his blood and he will die.
I'm sorry.'
'I see.' Ajax nodded with a weary air of resignation.
It pained Kharim to see the gladiator brought low by this, amongst all the other burdens of command that rested on his powerful shoulders. It had been five days since the rebel army had arrived before the walls of Gortyna and Ajax had launched his surprise attack. It had cost the rebels dearly. Over two hundred of Chilo's band had been killed or wounded, and many of the survivors had been crippled by running on to the caltrops as they retreated into the night. The mood in the rebel camp had soured, and though Ajax was determined to make another attempt to take the city by force, he was aware that his followers had been shaken by the failure of the first night.
It had been their first major setback since the outbreak of the rebellion, and Ajax was forced to realise that there were limits to what could be asked of men and women who had had no experience of the hardships of conflict. They had been intoxicated by freedom and fanatical in their defence of it. But fanaticism was not enough when what Ajax really needed was men trained in the art of siege warfare and disciplined enough to carry an assault through in spite of the dangers. Besides, fanaticism was a fickle thing, he had discovered. The initial fearlessness and ferocity of the early days of the revolt had begun to give way to a simple desire to live well and enjoy the luxuries they had looted from their former masters.
Ajax clasped Kharim's shoulder. 'I thank you for doing what you could for Chilo.'
'You don't have to thank me, General.' Kharim smiled sadly. 'Chilo is as a brother to me, as he is to you. His men love him. This has hit them hard. I wish I had the skills to save him.'
'I thank you anyway.' Ajax stared at his companion for a moment.
'I need a new man to take over from Chilo.'
It was the first mention of such a thing, and Kharim realised that his leader now accepted that Chilo would not recover.
'Who do you have in mind?' Kharim asked.
'I am not sure yet. My first thought was you.'
'Me?'
'Why not? You fight as well as you practise your healing skills. And you are loyal to me, are you not?'
'Do you have to ask?' Kharim responded with a pained expression.
'No. I am sorry, my friend. I did not mean to slight you. Sometimes I slip back into the blunt frame of mind of a common gladiator.'
'There is nothing common about you,' Kharim replied, and gestured to the camp surrounding them. 'Ask anyone. Do you know, I have even heard some of the women praying to you? As if you were some kind of a god, or a king.'
Ajax frowned. 'That is foolishness. We are free now, we are not beholden to anyone but ourselves.'
Kharim looked at him. 'You believe that, and that is why they love you and will follow where you will lead.'
The gladiator drew himself up and briefly surveyed the nearest cluster of tents and shelters where the former slaves sat at their ease.
Some talked, some simply sat and looked at the world around them as if seeing it anew. A handful of children were playing around a cage to one side of the farmhouse, goading the prisoners with sticks. It was a peaceful scene of contentment, yet Ajax knew it could not last.
He turned back to Kharim.
'Pass the word. I want the leaders of all the war bands to meet in the garden at dusk. We must talk. There are choices that must be made. Commitments to be renewed. You understand?'
'Yes, General. I will tell them.'
Kharim turned and strode away, towards the area of the camp where his war band had set up their shelters. Ajax watched him a moment and then turned to go back inside the farmhouse. He passed through the colonnaded hall with the shallow pond at its centre.
Once that had been fed by rainwater from the roof, but the earthquake had left a large crack in the bottom, and now it was dry and filled with cracked plaster, dust and a handful of smashed tiles that had fallen in from the roof. He made his way towards the best bedroom in the house, where Chilo lay on a soft bedroll. Despite having the windows open on both sides of the room, the air was warm, and as Ajax approached, a sickening tang assaulted his nostrils.
He hid his distaste as he knelt down beside Chilo.
Chilo's skin was waxy and glistened with perspiration. He lay with a fine robe covering his body as far as his chest, hiding his wound.
Sensing the gladiator's presence, he opened his eyes, struggled to focus and forced a smile.
'General, I wondered when you'd come to see me.' He spoke softly, a slight rasp to his words.
'I was here just a moment ago.'
'Were you?' Chilo frowned. 'I can't remember.'
'It's the poison in your blood,' Ajax explained. 'It's playing tricks with your mind.'
'Ah.' Chilo reached out his hand and took that of Ajax. His touch was hot and feverish, and Ajax forced himself not to recoil. Chilo smiled. 'Well you are here now, at the end.'
'Yes.'
'It's been too short a time to have known you, my general.'
'And you, my friend.'
'Friend?' Chilo smiled contentedly.' Thank you.' His eyes moistened and he looked away.
'There's no shame in tears, Chilo. We have seen enough suffering in our time to justify a river of tears.'
Chilo nodded. 'Suffering, and joy.'
'Joy?'
'I found you, my general. You gave me freedom, and revenge.'
Ajax felt his throat constrict with a slight burning sensation. He swallowed before he could trust himself to speak. He leaned forward slightly and stroked the lank hair plastered to Chilo's scalp.
