Gladiator: Son of Spartacus by Simon Scarrow

Pompeius and, ah, advise him to block Spartacus’s route.’
    ‘Advise?’ Festus frowned.
    ‘One does not give orders to Pompeius the Great.’ Caesar smiled. ‘Crassus knew that it was too important a matter to risk offending Pompeius and thereby let the enemy slip away. Anyway, I found Pompeius and gave him the message, and remained with him while his men marched on Spartacus. It was all over very quickly. The rebels were exhausted and many were wounded. Yet they formed up round their leader and fought to the end. We only took a handful of prisoners. None matched the description that had been given to us by his old lanista.’
    ‘Did you see him again?’ Marcus asked excitedly. ‘Spartacus?’
    ‘I saw him with his closest lieutenants. They were mounted on the last of their horses. Just before the fight began they dismounted and killed their beasts, to show that they would share the fate of their comrades. When the last of them had fallen, I joined Pompeius and his officers as they picked over the battlefield. We found some black armour and a helmet. I suppose that his followers tore it off him when they saw him cut down. Many of the bodies were too mutilated to be identified.’
    Marcus shuddered but tried hard not to show his revulsion.
    ‘Perhaps Spartacus survived,’ Lupus suggested.
    ‘I can’t see how he could have escaped. He must have fallen in the final battle. I am sure of it.’
    ‘He would have stayed and died with the others,’ Marcus said at once, then looked round at the others quickly. ‘At least, that’s what I would have done. If I were him.’
    Festus laughed and gave Marcus a good-humoured slap on the back. ‘A handful of fights under your belt and already you think you’re another Spartacus!’
    Caesar stared at Marcus. ‘I sincerely hope not. The first one nearly destroyed Rome. We would not be able to survive a second Spartacus. Besides, I have grown fond of you, Marcus. It would distress me if we ever became enemies. Then I would be obliged to destroy you.’
    He spoke in a matter-of-fact tone but his words chilled Marcus to the core. Not for the first time, he feared that Caesar knew more about him than he realized. But he had to push those thoughts aside, be strong and see this through. He had to be as strong as his father had been. He took a calming breath and addressed his former master.
    ‘I have served you loyally, sir. There is no reason to think that we should ever become enemies.’
    Caesar looked at him, then gave a light laugh. ‘Of course not. Besides I have somewhat larger and more formidable adversaries to worry about.’ He yawned. ‘It’s been a long day. We’re warm and our stomachs are full. We’d better get a good night’s sleep. I want us back on the road at dawn, Festus. See to it that I am roused with the rest of the men in good time.
    ‘Yes, master.’
    Caesar rose from the table and rubbed the base of his spine with a grimace. Then he nodded to his companions and climbed a flight of stairs at the rear of the inn that led to the handful of small rooms that were rented to travellers. Festus turned to the boys.
    ‘I’ve sorted out a room for you two. The innkeeper has space in his cellar. He’s put two bedrolls down for you, but says to watch out for the rats. Sometimes they bite.’
    ‘Rats?’ Lupus’s face went pale.
    ‘He was probably joking, but all the same take care, eh?’ Festus stood up and made for the other men to give them their orders.
    ‘Rats,’ Lupus repeated. ‘I hate rats.’
    ‘Then make sure you push them to the side of the plate.’ Marcus joked. ‘Come on, I’ll make sure you’re safe.’
    The innkeeper’s wife showed them down to the cellar by the light of an oil lamp, then left it on the bottom of the narrow stairs so they could see enough to prepare to sleep. Lupus glanced warily around the shadows in the cellar before he settled down, but despite his concerns he was soon asleep. Once again, Marcus lay awake for a