The Gladiator

Cato glanced towards the shore. Fulvius and his men had already broken into the rebel camp and were cutting the enemy down in swathes. He turned back. 'You take command here. Secure the grain ships and send some of your marines to reinforce the men ashore.'

'Yes, sir. Where are you going?'

'I still have one job left to do,' Cato said quietly. 'Try and save the hostages. If anything happens, I've left orders for Centurion Fulvius to take command.'

Balbus nodded.' Good luck, sir.'

Cato laughed at the navarch's dour tone. 'You seem to make a habit of doubting me. I'll be back, Balbus. I give you my word.'

'Good luck anyway, sir.'

'Thanks.' Cato clapped him on the shoulder, turned to Atticus and the others and led them off to find one of the tenders moored to the remaining grain ships.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

The tender grounded on the small strip of sand with a slight jar that sent Atticus sprawling on to his knees.

'Shit,' he muttered as he struggled up and then climbed over the side with the others.

'Better all speak in Greek from now on,' said Cato. 'If we're going to be taken for rebels.'

They had helped themselves to some tunics from the rebel bodies on the grain ships and fastened their sword belts over the top. If anyone took the time to look hard at them, the Roman swords might look suspicious, but they could pass them off as captured kit if stopped. From the sounds of confusion and panic coming from the camp, Cato hoped that the rebels would be too busy trying to save themselves to be worried about Roman intruders in their midst.

He indicated a rock a short distance away. 'We'll put the boat behind that.'

Once he was satisfied that it was hidden from view and would still be there if they needed to make a quick escape, he led the others up towards the large tents in that part of the camp he had seen Ajax and his escort make for the previous day. The slope was rocky and dotted with shrubs and clumps of gorse that snagged their tunics as they crept forwards. At length the gradient eased and they could hear voices more clearly. There were hurried exchanges of shouts, but none of the panic and pandemonium that was evident in the main part of the camp. The ground here was sparsely covered where the rebels had ripped up the dry plants and bushes for kindling. There was a sudden rustling to their right, and Cato waved his men down and dropped to the ground himself. Ahead of them a small group of figures ran by: a man, woman and two children, all of them clutching bundles. The man looked nervously towards the top of the slope and urged the others on. They passed a short distance in front of the Romans without seeing them, and ran off into the darkness. As the sound of their footsteps faded, Cato let his breath out.

'Come on,' he whispered.

They continued, and now the glow of camp fires illuminated the crest above them. Keeping low and glancing from side to side, they proceeded warily. The ridges of tents were visible over the crest, and Cato made towards a small outcrop of boulders that would conceal them as they took in the situation. There turned out to be a natural gap between the boulders wide enough for two men to lie down, and Cato ordered the legionaries to stay back while he crawled forward with Atticus. The rocks stood on a slight rise and the position gave them a good view over the flat area of ground that the enemy commander had chosen for his tent and those of his bodyguards. The largest tents were surrounded by an open area, then smaller shelters, and off to one side a small shack and pens that seemed to have been abandoned many years ago. A number of camp fires were burning down, having been abandoned in the rush to counter the Roman attack. As Cato surveyed the scene, he could see several figures close to the largest tent; some were armed with spears, and an old woman squatted to one side hurriedly loading possessions on to a blanket that lay open on the ground. Other rebels were visible flitting through the shelters as they ran from the Roman forces advancing round the bay. Cato could not help won de ring what these fugitives might hope to achieve. When they reached the end of the peninsula they would be trapped.

'What now?' muttered Atticus. 'Where do you think Macro and the senator's daughter are being kept?'

'It has to be somewhere close to his tent.' Cato recalled the savage glee in the gladiator's eyes as he contemplated the suffering of Macro and Julia. 'He'd want them nearby, near enough to sense their torment. Some where he could keep an eye on them. In one of the tents perhaps, or in those pens. We have to get closer.'

Atticus nodded. 'Best circle round then, sir. Come up behind the pens from where there's not so much light from the fires.'

Cato examined the ground.' Yes. You're right. Let's go.'