The Gladiator - Scarrow Simon - Страница 49

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'Yes, yes, sir!' Pandarus whimpered.

'Better!' Macro eased himself up.' Now get your kit, and report to the centurion on the drill ground with the other recruits. Get up! Get moving!'

Pandarus scrambled to his feet and scurried off towards the wagon where an optiofrom the auxiliary cohort and four of his men were busy issuing sword, helmet, armour and shield to each man sent their way. Macro turned back to the line of waiting men. Most were ordinary townspeople, but there were some better dressed amongst them. He walked down the line inspecting them, then returned to the shade of the awning.

'Is there anyone else who takes exception to fighting at my side, and the side of our heroic friend Pandarus? Well?'

The men refused to meet his glare and stood in silence. Macro nodded. 'Good.'

He turned and made his way back to his stool, then sat down at the desk and picked up his stylus.

'Next man!'

Eight days after Cato had set off for Alexandria, Macro joined Senator Sempronius and his daughter for dinner: a thin stew of pork and beans served with bread by one of the few remaining slaves of Hirtius. The rest had run off to the hills, or to swell the ranks of Ajax's rebel army.

The slave was an elderly man, stooped and frail-looking. He had long been conditioned to being silent and avoiding the eyes of his masters. Macro watched him for a moment, won de ring what it must be like to live as a slave. He had been used to seeing them on the streets of Ostia and Rome as a child, and so had never really considered what it must mean to be one. Since then, he had spent long years in the army, where the slaves he had encountered had mostly been when he was off duty. There had also been a handful of occasions when he had seen proud enemy warriors taken captive, chained up and marched away into slavery. Indeed, he had profited from his share of such prisoners, and the money he had gained had rather obscured the fates of those who had thus enriched him.

As the slave finished serving and retired to stand still against the wall, Macro continued to examine him while he casually dipped a chunk of bread into the steaming bowl before him. It was tempting to ask the man what he thought of Ajax. And what he thought of the Romans and Greeks who were determined to defeat the rebel gladiator and his followers. If indeed he thought anything about them.

Macro paused. How could a slave not think about the revolt, when there was little other topic of conversation in the city? Could this slave, so taciturn, be harbouring deep hatred for his masters and a yearning to be part of the uprising? Might he be listening alertly to any conversation to which he was privy, and then wait for a chance to escape and reveal his information to Ajax? What if his plan was more treacherous still? It would not take much effort to procure sufficient poison to kill all three of those to whom he had just served their evening meal.

Macro glanced down at his stew with a look of suspicion. He lowered his bread, dripping with gravy from the stew, on to his platter and turned towards the slave.

'You there, step closer.'

The slave started forward nervously, eyes flickering round the Romans lying on their couches around the table. Sempronius glanced at his daughter and Julia raised a quizzical eyebrow.

Macro wiped the smears of gravy from his lips. 'Slave, you have heard the news about Prefect Marcellus's defeat, I take it.'

The slave nodded quickly.

'Do you take comfort from this news?'

'Master?'

'I asked you if you took comfort from the news. You're a slave. So what is your view of the rebels' victory? Do you rejoice at it?'

The slave glanced down and shook his head.

'Look at me,' Macro ordered, and the slave reluctantly raised his head enough to meet Macro's gaze. 'Surely you are on the side of those who would set you free? Well? Speak up, man.'

The slave's anxiety was clear as he struggled to make a reply.

Macro waited patiently, and at length the slave spoke. 'Master, I want freedom. So do many slaves. But I have savings and I plan to buy my freedom one day. It is the only way for me. Those slaves who join Ajax may have their freedom now, but I think they must live in dread of being returned to slavery. That is not freedom. When I eventually have my freedom, I shall want to be free from fear as I am free from slavery.' He paused, and looked round at his masters. 'I have made my choice. Those who follow the gladiator have made theirs.' He turned back to Macro. 'Is that all, master?'

Macro thought for a moment, then nodded. 'Leave us.'

The slave bowed his head and backed away from the table.

'He's lying,' Macro muttered.

'Well, what did you expect?' asked Sempronius. 'A frank admission that he sympathises with Ajax? It was unfair to put him on the spot like that.'

'Perhaps.' Macro pushed his plate away.

'I wonder how Cato is faring?' Julia intervened.' He must have reached Alexandria by now. What do you think, Father?'

Sempronius thought a moment and then nodded. 'I'd have thought so, provided all has gone well. Which I am sure it has,' he added hurriedly, before dipping his spoon into the stew, fishing out a piece of meat and popping it into his mouth. At once, his face contorted in agony. Macro jumped to his feet and stepped towards the senator, glancing at the slave as he did so.

'Sir! What's the matter? Are you all right?'

Sempronius held up a hand to stay Macro and nodded. He swallowed, then reached for his wine to quench the pain in his mouth.' Damn, that stew's hot!'

Macro let out a sigh of relief and returned to his couch.

Julia was looking at him curiously as she delicately blew across her spoon. 'What is up with you?'

'It's nothing. I just thought... Never mind.' Macro quickly changed the subject, with a forced smile. 'I'd be willing to bet that Cato is even now sitting at a fine banquet with the Legate of Egypt, busy talking him out of his entire garrison. You know what he's like.'

Julia smiled. Yes, he can be most persuasive.'

Sempronius frowned and Macro burst into laughter before he could stop himself. For a moment the senator continued frowning, then gave way to the impulse and joined in. With all the strain of the previous days and the grave concerns over the arrival of the slave army before the hastily repaired walls of Gortyna, it did both men good to laugh. When it had died away, Macro topped the other man's cup up with wine and raised his own in a toast.

'To Cato. May he prove big enough for a tribune's boots, and return to us at the head of a great army'

'I'll drink to that.'

'And me.' Julia raised her cup. She took a sip and then spoke softly.

'By the gods, I miss him so much.'

Macro nodded. He didn't want to say anything for fear of seeming to miss a comrade more than was properly acceptable. All the same, he mused, he would rather have Cato at his side as he prepared the hotch-potch of defences and defenders to face the enemy.

Sempronius drank from his cup and then set it down.' How are things coming along, Macro? Those new men proving to be of any use?'

'They're doing well enough. Most have managed to work out which end of a sword to hold. They'll never make good soldiers, or even adequate ones, in whatever time we have available to us before the rebels decide to attack. I've appointed Centurion Micon to command them. It'll give him a chance to redeem himself. All in all they won't amount to much, but they'll be better equipped than most of the slaves they'll encounter.'

'Although you can be sure that this man Ajax will have distributed the kit he recovered from the bodies of Marcellus and his men.'

'That's true,' Macro conceded. 'In which case, I give Centurion Micon's lads no better than an even chance when it comes to a fight.'

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