Gladiator: Son of Spartacus by Simon Scarrow Page B

every comment he made and keep the brand on his shoulder out of sight. He could trust no one, not even Lupus. A wave of bitter loneliness washed over him and he felt the first hot tears at the corner of his eyes. Marcus raised his hand and cuffed them away angrily. He could not afford to be weak, he told himself. He had to be strong if he was to survive. And he had to survive if he was to rescue his mother.
    A cold speck brushed his cheek and he looked up and saw that it had begun to snow again, light flecks of white dropping gently from the overcast sky. Ahead, the road came to another hairpin bend, and Caesar and Festus steered their mounts round to lead the column up the new stretch. As Marcus came to the bend, some sixth sense caused him to rein his horse in, and he turned in his saddle to look back down the slope towards the forest.
    He saw them at once. Another party of horsemen, twenty or so of them, no more than half a mile behind. They were moving at a slow trot and appeared in no hurry to catch up. Even so, Marcus felt a pang of concern and kicked his heels in as he urged his horse forward.
    ‘Make way!’ he warned Lupus, who glanced round with a surprised expression before steering his horse to the side of the road. Marcus trotted by without any comment and carried past the other riders until he drew up alongside Caesar.
    ‘Sir, there's someone following us.’ Marcus pointed down the slope, but the lower road was invisible from this point. Caesar glanced down the rock-strewn ground.
    ‘What are you talking about? I see no one.’
    ‘They are there, sir. I saw them plainly.’
    ‘How many?’ Festus asked sharply.
    ‘Twenty, about.’
    ‘Where?’
    ‘They were just coming out of the forest.’
    ‘Well, I can’t see much thanks to this snow,’ Caesar muttered. ‘Are you sure about this, Marcus?'
    ‘I am certain, master.’
    Caesar stroked his chin. ‘You saw them from where exactly?’
    ‘Back where the road turns.’
    Caesar sighed. ‘Then we'd better have a look.’
    The column halted and the three made their way back down the line until they reached the bend and stopped as close to the edge as they dared to peer down the steep slope. Below, the snow was falling hard and it was difficult to make out more than the dim outline of the forest.
    There was a brief silence before Festus growled, ‘I can’t see anything.
    ‘No,’ Caesar added quietly before he turned to Marcus. ‘Are you quite certain about what you saw? Tired eyes sometimes play tricks.’
    Marcus felt a brief instant of doubt, then shook it off. ‘I saw horsemen, sir. I know it.’
    ‘Well, there’s nothing down there now,’ said Festus. ‘Nothing I can see.’
    ‘Nevertheless, I trust the boy’s judgement,' Caesar responded firmly. ‘I want you to stay at the rear. Keep watch behind us. If you see anything, then let me know at once,’
    Festus bowed his head and Caesar was about to turn his horse round when the snow cleared and, as if a veil had been drawn back, the ground beneath came into view again, together with the party of horsemen trotting up the track, closer now than when Marcus had first spotted them.
    ‘Get the men moving!’ Caesar snapped. ‘Let’s get up to the pass. It’s a natural choke point. We can wait for them there. If they mean us no good, then that’s where we shall make a stand. Go.’
    Festus wheeled his mount away and it kicked up a spray of snow as he galloped to the head of the column. Caesar squinted as he scrutinized the horsemen below. ‘They’re armed. I can see spears, shields, some helmets. Not soldiers from our side at any rate. There’s no standard at their head. No sign of an officer. I fear they may be trouble, young Marcus.’ He blinked and turned to look at his former slave. ‘Well spotted. Once more you serve me well. Come, I want you at my side.’
    They trotted back to the head of the column and Caesar waved them forward as he kicked his heels in. There was no need to