'General, it is too much to ask of our men. They are brave and they have achieved great things so far. But it would take a trained army to capture Gortyna. I cannot ask my men to risk their lives in a reckless attack. Even if I agreed to it, I doubt they would follow my orders.'
Some of his comrades added their agreement to his view and Ajax glared at them in frustration.' Then we might as well cut our losses totally and prepare for surrender now. If we are lucky we might get the governor to agree to generous terms if we offer to lay down our arms and end the rebellion. I'm sure that he would be willing to concede to just executing the ringleaders, and any others who could be identified as having raised their hands against their masters. It would not end there. You know the law. If any slave of a household is found guilty of killing his master, then all the slaves of the household are condemned to death. Those who survived would be lucky to escape with a flogging before being returned to their owners.' Ajax looked round the room defiantly. 'Shall we go down that road, my brothers?'
There was a tense silence before Fuscus dared to reply. He swallowed nervously as he addressed the gladiator. 'General, it seems that you are offering us a choice of death now, or death later. Our people are living for the moment. Every day of freedom is a gift to them. Can you wonder that they believe that life is too precious to be risked in an attack on Gortyna?'
Ajax felt his guts tighten into a knot. He wanted to scream at these fools. Had they not taken great risks and made great sacrifices already? Now was not the time to let their courage fail them. He forced his voice to remain calm.
'I am sure that Chilo thought his life was precious. Yet he gave it up for the rebellion, and died with no regrets.'
Fuscus looked down as he replied. 'I am not Chilo.'
'Evidently. And what about the rest of you? Would you betray his legacy?'
No one replied, and Ajax refused to break the guilty silence that tormented them. He was uncertain what to do, or what to say, and had to clench his fists behind his back and fight the urge to bellow his rage at them, to shame them. For a moment he resolved to attack the city by himself. He would stride towards the walls sword in hand and see how many of his people had the guts to follow him and see through the commitment they had made to each other by joining in rebellion against Rome.
But then a figure emerged from the door leading back into the farm, one of the leaders of the patrols that Ajax had sent to scour the island. He was breathing hard and sweat glistened on his skin.
'What is it?' Ajax demanded.
The scout glanced round at the assembled commanders of the war bands, and then back at Ajax.
'Speak,' he ordered.' Make your report.'
The scout nodded, then licked his dry lips and began. 'We've found some ships, General. A whole fleet of them. They're in b three days' ride from here.'
'Ships? A fleet?' Ajax raised an eyebrow. 'Warships?'
'No, General. Cargo ships. Huge cargo ships, filled with grain We captured one of their crew and questioned him. These ships are the grain fleet, sailing for Rome. They were caught in a great storm. Two of them sank. The rest were damaged and have put into the bay to make repairs. That's where we found them, beached while they wait for spars, cordage and sails to arrive so they can be repaired and continue sailing for Rome.'
Ajax thought quickly.' How soon before the repairs are complete?'
'A while yet, sir. Our man reckoned that it would take several days to organise the spare parts and send them to the bay'
'Where is this crewman?'
The scout nicked his throat with his finger. 'Sorry, General. I thought it was for the best.'
Ajax nodded. Already his mind was grasping the significance of this news. He smiled to himself and muttered, ' The grain fleet…'
Fuscus's eyes were wide with excitement.' By the gods, we could feed our people for the best part of a year if we took their cargo.'
Ajax chuckled. 'You're missing the point, Fuscus. It's not our people who need the grain. It's the people of Rome. Without the grain fleet they will starve. There are over a million mouths to feed in Rome. How long do you think the emperor will be able to defy a starving mob?' Ajax nodded gently to himself. 'At last we have a weapon that we can hold at the throat of our enemy.'
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The crews of the warships were left with the task of burying the dead of Matala, while Fulvius marched his column on to Gortyna. Cato rode ahead with a squadron from the mounted cohort, consumed with anxiety for the fate of his friends. He led the horsemen on at a gallop, thundering along the dusty road to the provincial capital, all the while terrified of what he might see when he finally arrived in sight of the city. The horses and men were only allowed to stop and rest when they were on the verge of exhaustion, and then Cato ordered them to walk on until he judged that the mounts had recovered enough to continue being ridden.
All the time his mind was a raging turmoil of images. In his mind's eye he saw Gortyna in smouldering ruins, streets littered with butchered bodies, leading all the way up to the acropolis, where…
He clamped his eyes shut for an instant to force the image from his mind and turned instead to prayer, silently begging the gods to spare Julia, Macro and all the others. If they were safe, then Cato swore to be the servant of the gods — their slave — and live only to please them.
If the price of his friends' lives was his own, then so be it.
An inner voice chided him for being a hypocrite. Since when had he ever placed so much faith in divine intervention? He felt torn between the two impulses, and then turned instead to thoughts of revenge. If Ajax had killed them, Cato resolved never to rest until the gladiator was hunted down and killed, whatever the cost. His heart filled with hatred that spilled into his veins and he was consumed with a burning intensity of purpose to destroy Ajax, to obliterate every fragment of his being. Until now, he had never tasted such a desire for revenge, and for a brief moment some part of his mind, still capable of rational thought, reminded him that this was the self-same revenge that fuelled the fire burning in the heart of Ajax.
'Fuck Ajax,' Cato muttered to himself through clenched teeth.
The decurion who was walking his horse beside him glanced at Cato. 'Sir?'
'What?' Cato glared at him.
'I thought you said something. An order, like.'
'No. It was nothing. Nothing.' Cato moved round to the side of the horse.' Mount up!'
The horses' flanks were still heaving like bellows and the decurion looked at Cato ready to protest, then bit his lip. The rest of the squadron wearily pulled themselves back into the saddle and took up their reins.
'Get a move on!' Cato barked at the slowest of them. 'If we're too late, then the gods help you.'
'Sir,' the decurion edged his mount closer to Cato and lowered his voice, 'the lads are exhausted.'
'I don't bloody care. We have to reach Gortyna as soon as possible.
D'you hear?'
'Sir, it will not make any difference how quickly we reach Gortyna.' He gestured to his men. 'There's only thirty of us. If the slaves are there, then we're not going to be able to do anything. If they've already dealt with the city, then…' He shrugged. 'We won't be able to change what has happened.'
'I don't give a damn,' Cato growled. 'I'm in command, and if we have to ride the horses into the ground to reach Gortyna before dark, we'll do it. Understand?'
The decurion took a deep breath and nodded.
'Then let's go.' Cato thrust his arm in the air, and swept it forwards as he spurred his horse into a trot. 'Advance!'
He increased the pace into a gallop and they pounded on down the road. Late in the afternoon, as the shadows were lengthe ning, the milestones indicated that the city was close. The crops on either side had been harvested, and the trees in the orchards and olive groves that they passed were stripped bare, as if a host of locusts had swept through the land. There were bodies too, sprawled beside carts and wagons that had been
