The Gladiator

'To undermine the column, sir. Take out the commander and it's bound to hit morale, and disrupt the campaign.'

'If it is a trap and they kill me, that makes you the new commander.' Cato looked at him steadily. 'Are you saying you're not up to the job? I thought you wanted it. Maybe this is your chance.'

Centurion Fulvius had the good grace to let a look of shame flit across his features before he composed himself and shook his head.

'Not this way, sir. You watch yourself out there, understand?'

Cato smiled to himself as he turned away and climbed down from the tower. At the bottom he turned to the section of legionaries manning the gate.' Open it up, but be ready to close it quickly if you get the order.'

As the men removed the locking bar and hauled the gate inwards, Fulvius called to one of his officers and gave them orders to have one of the mounted squadrons called to the gate as swiftly as possible.

Cato puffed his cheeks and marched out of the camp, between the two ditches on either side, and on to the clear ground. Ahead of him the horsemen watched in silence. When he reached a point halfway between the gate and the waiting rebels, Cato stopped and called out to the man who had spoken for them.

'I am Tribune Cato, commander of the Roman column and the Roman fleet. Where is your general?'

There was a sudden movement from the rear of the group of horsemen as a rider spurred his horse forward and galloped it up the gentle slope. Cato sucked in a deep breath and his muscles tensed, ready for action. He let his hand drop towards the handle of his sword, where it hovered for an instant before he willed it to settle by his thigh. Straightening his back, he stood his ground and stared defiantly at the approaching horseman. At the last moment the rider reined in, less than ten feet from Cato, showering him with grit. The sun was behind the rebel and Cato had to squint and then raise a hand to shield his eyes. For a moment not a word was spoken, then the rebel gave a soft, menacing chuckle.

'The gods are kind to me, Roman. So kind.'

'Ajax?' Cato felt his heartbeat quicken.

'Of course. You remember me then?'

'Yes.'

'And you remember what you did to my father, before you had me sold into slavery?'

'I recall that we executed the leader of a gang of pirates.'

'We?'

Cato froze as he realised his mistake. Macro was in enough danger already, if he was still alive. He cleared his throat.' The Ravenna fleet was charged with destroying the pirate threat.'

'It's funny, I seem to recall things being a little bit more personal than that. You see, I recall — very, very clearly — the names and faces of the two officers in charge of my father's execution, and they were there again when I was led away into slavery with survivors of my father's fleet. You were one of those men. The other I have already had the great pleasure to encounter once again.'

Cato felt his throat tighten and he concentrated on the man in front of him, fighting to control his expression. 'I take it your hostages are still alive.'

'They are. For the present.'

'Get down off your horse,' Cato ordered. 'I do not care to speak to you with the sun in my eyes.'

'Very well, Roman.' Ajax swung his leg over the horse's back and dropped to the ground close to Cato, but Cato did not flinch. Out of the glare of the sun, he could now see the man clearly. Ajax wore a simple tunic, plain boots and a sword belt slung across his shoulder.

Tall, broad-shouldered and powerfully built, he was young, but his features were more lined and scarred than the face Cato dimly recalled from years earlier. There was something about the eyes, too.

They were watchful and far-seeing, and Cato guessed that his time in the arena meant that Ajax was a man who missed nothing and was capable of reacting to any threat in an instant.

'More comfortable?' Ajax sneered.

'You wanted to talk to me,' Cato responded flatly. 'So talk.'

'I'll get to the point when I am good and ready. Before then, I am curious to know what you think of our little situation. It is not without dramatic interest, wouldn't you agree?'

'I am not interested in your games, slave. Just speak your piece and go-'

'Slave?' Ajax frowned briefly.' Not any more. Not when your emperor concedes to my demands.'

'State your demands then, before you bore me any further.' Cato slowly folded his arms, loosely, with his left hand on top in case he needed to signal his men.

'I will, but first, tell me how it feels to be responsible for all of this.'

Ajax gestured at the two armies. 'All the bloodshed during this rebellion. Surely you cannot sleep easily with all this on your conscience.'

Cato did not reply at once, then spoke with deliberate emphasis.

'This is your doing, Ajax. The retribution that Rome will visit on your followers will be your responsibility, not mine. If you surrender now, and give up your hostages, I give you my word that I will plead the case for leniency to be shown to your followers.'

'While I go the same way as my father?'