Son of Spartacus

20

Brixus released Marcus’s shoulder and smiled wearily. ‘I am a poor host. What am I thinking? You’re cold and hungry, and no doubt exhausted. Come, let’s sit by the fire while I send for food and drink, and we can talk.’

He clapped his hands and called out harshly. ‘Servilia!’

The woman crouching by the fire cringed like a whipped dog, then scrambled to her feet and scurried across the hut, bowing her head as she stood before him. By the glow of the fire Marcus could see bruises amid the grime on her skin, and the locks of her long dark hair were matted with filth.

‘I want meat, bread and watered wine. And dried figs if there are any left.’

‘Yes, master.’

‘At once. Now go.’

She turned and scuttled to an arch that led into a small lean-to at the rear of the hut. As she disappeared, Brixus led Marcus to the fire where he gratefully sank down on the skins arranged at one side of the hearth. The warmth of the flames felt good and Marcus allowed himself to indulge briefly in the comfort, releasing the terror he had faced in front of the crowd. Even though he was out of danger, it took a while for the tension in his muscles and the trembling of his limbs to subside.

Brixus slipped his sword belt over his head and let the scabbard drop to the ground beside another pile of animal skins. He unbuckled the straps fastening his cuirass and placed that beside his sword, before slumping down with a sigh of contentment.

‘Your limp has improved,’ Marcus observed. ‘Much better than it was back in Porcino’s ludus.’

‘Well, it was never quite as bad as I made out.’ Brixus grinned. ‘Once I received the wound I vowed I would never again fight in the arena for the pleasure of the Romans. Even though the injury would have slowed me down, I could not trust Porcino not to make me fight again. I played it up enough to fool his surgeon and he pronounced me unfit for the arena. That’s how I was sent to the kitchens.’

‘I see.’ Marcus nodded. ‘But how did you come to be here, in charge of this camp?’

‘After I spoke to you that last time, when you were on the road to Rome, I made my way north into the mountains. It wasn’t long before I encountered one of the rebel bands. They brought me here. Mandracus was their leader and he had fought for Spartacus in the last revolt, even though he was only a boy at the time, not much older than you are now. He recognized me, and when I told him that the son of Spartacus lived and would one day lead a new rebellion against Rome, he was persuaded to let me take command. After that we increased the scale of the attacks on the enemy and recruited more people. They were anxious at first and slow to join us, but when news of our victories spread, and with that the promise of the heir of Spartacus, they flocked to our side.’ His eyes blazed with excitement. ‘Marcus, we have over ten thousand men under arms in camps like this up and down the Apennines. With you as our figurehead, that number will grow even more swiftly. Soon we shall march down from the mountains to face the Roman legions on the battlefield, and this time the victory will be ours.’

The slave woman emerged through the small entrance at the side of the hut, balancing a tray stacked with meat and bread in one hand, and carrying ajar and two silver cups in the other. She scuttled across to the fire and set the meal down between Brixus and Marcus, then backed away nervously, out of reach, and stood with her head bowed, in silence. Brixus ignored her as he piled some meat on a wooden platter and offered it to Marcus.

‘Here. I expect you’re hungry.’

Marcus took the platter and began to eat at once, quickly, tearing at the cold mutton with his teeth and chewing hard. Brixus watched with a smile, then passed him a small roundel of bread and a cup of watered wine. Marcus nodded his thanks and continued eating until his belly felt comfortably full. He eventually pushed the platter aside with a sigh.

Brixus was eating in a more measured manner and looked up. ‘Want some more, or something else? Fruit? Fig and date pie?’

‘No. I’m fine. Thanks.’

Brixus clicked his fingers at the woman. ‘Some more logs on the fire. Then get out and leave us alone.’

‘Yes, master.’ She hefted some logs from the pile beside the fire and added them to the blaze, before backing away to the side of the hut where she disappeared through the side exit. As the leather curtain dropped back into place, Marcus stared at it, frowning, before he spoke.

‘I thought you were fighting to end slavery.’

‘Eh?’ Brixus frowned briefly, until he got the point. ‘Oh, her. Don’t concern yourself with her, Marcus. It’s time some Romans learned what we slaves had to endure.’

‘I don’t understand. Either you are against slavery or you are for it.’

‘Of course I am against it. And when Rome no longer claims to own us, then Servilia can go free too. Until then, she is my slave.’

‘But-’

‘That’s enough, Marcus. I will not discuss the matter. She deserves to be treated as she once treated others until there’s an end to it. Is that clear?’

Marcus nodded, surprised and a little intimidated by the cruel edge to Brixus’s words. A silence fell between them and Marcus stared into the flames, deep in thought. He was worried about Brixus’s plan. Apart from the prospect of being the figurehead of the new rebellion, he was unsure that the rebels could overwhelm Rome’s legions. Even if tens of thousands of slaves escaped from their masters to join the rebellion, they would lack the training and experience of the legionaries. Only a small proportion of the rebels were gladiators or had some fighting experience. Marcus had seen at first hand the huge advantage that a trained fighter had over a raw recruit, no matter how eager that recruit might be.

‘You can’t win this, Brixus,’ he said quietly. ‘You cannot defeat Rome.’

The rebel leader stared back at him. ‘And why is that?’

‘You know only too well. Look what happened when you went up against Caesar. You were defeated.’

‘We were not defeated,’ Brixus replied sharply. ‘We fought like lions. My followers have the courage to see this through.’

‘Courage is not enough. We have both seen that at Porcino’s ludus. It takes more than courage. You cannot win without discipline and training. That’s why your men refused to charge at the Romans a second time.’

‘They will have discipline and training in time. More than enough to match the enemy.’

‘But there isn’t any time,’ Marcus argued. ‘Caesar and his men are hunting you down. How long do you think it will take them to find this valley?’

‘No Roman has found it yet.’

‘That’s because it was being used by just a handful of rebels before you arrived. Now there are more, many of whom have been captured by Caesar. One of them is sure to tell him about this valley. The Romans will use torture, or offer a reward, to get what they need. Then they’ll blockade the entrance to this valley and starve you and your followers out.’

‘Those who follow me would die rather than betray the cause.’

‘I wonder.’

‘Besides, you are here now. Your name, your legacy, will inspire the devotion of all to the cause of fighting for their liberty. With you at the head of our army, nothing can stand in our way!’

‘Brixus, I am not the man my father was.’ Marcus stopped and smiled thinly as he touched his chest. ‘I am not even a man. How can I lead an army?’

‘You won’t lead it as such. That is my duty. As I said earlier, you will be the figurehead of our cause. That’s all.’

Marcus reflected a moment and shook his head. ‘I will not be used like that. I will not be the reason why men, women and children rush to join a futile cause. I will not have their blood on my hands.’

‘But I need you,’ Brixus insisted angrily, then paused to calm himself. ‘I mean we need you. Would you betray all those slaves who still believe in your father and what he fought for?’

‘I am not betraying them. I simply want to save them from a pointless death.’

‘It is not a pointless death, Marcus. While men are prepared to fight, and die, for a cause they believe in, that cause lives on and one day it may triumph. If men do nothing they are simply doomed to a pointless and painful life.’

‘But they are still living,’ Marcus countered. He felt the truth of Brixus’s words but could not accept the suffering and bloodshed it entailed. And he could not bear to be responsible for luring so many people to their deaths. He shook his head. ‘No. I cannot do it. In time, perhaps the Romans themselves will put an end to slavery.’

‘Pah! You live in the clouds, boy. Rome will never — never — renounce slavery. It is the foundation of all their power. It is slaves who farm their fields, toil in their mines, or shed their blood in the arena. Without us Rome is nothing, which is why this can only stop if we have the courage and endurance to see it through to the bitter end.’ His eyes burning with zeal, Brixus leaned towards Marcus and thrust his finger at him. ‘Even if we fail, if all of us are crushed and crucified, then our example will kindle the rebellious fire that burns in the hearts of all those who are not free. That is what makes men into heroes, Marcus. Your father was a hero. You have a duty to follow in his footsteps. Or will you betray him? Are you too much of a coward to honour his memory?’

Angrily, Marcus gritted his teeth as he replied. ‘I am no coward. I would face any danger, no matter how great, for something I believe in. I do not believe you can defeat Rome. Besides, I never knew my father. He was dead before I ever breathed in this world. I will not be the slave of a dead man’s legacy. It is my life, Brixus. Mine. I was raised on a small farm on a Greek island. The man who raised me, the man I loved as a father, was killed in front of my eyes. My mother and I were sold into slavery. That is the story of my life, and I will not rest until my mother is free. That is what I am prepared to fight for, and die for if I must. Only that.’

Brixus looked at him with an understanding expression. ‘Of course, Marcus. I can see that. But that is the boy in you speaking. You have had your childhood taken from you and you want it back. Few people in this camp have even had the chance to enjoy what you have known and lost. That is a monstrous injustice. Perhaps you are too young to grasp that. But you will. That is what it means to be a man. To understand there are more important things in the world than yourself, and your dreams.’

‘It is not a dream!’ Marcus snapped back, his eyes smarting with the effort of fighting back tears. He wished he could explain the pain that tore at his heart every time he thought of his mother. The terrible guilt that ate away at him because he failed to save her. ‘I will free my mother. She is all that is important to me.’

‘Marcus … We all have mothers. I lost mine when she was sold by my master. I could do nothing to stop it. Do you think I am any different from you? Was my loss any less than yours?’

Marcus’s throat felt too tight to speak. If he tried, he knew his voice would catch and he would choke on a wave of grief and tears. Fortunately, Brixus spoke again, with great sympathy.

‘Marcus, join us and you will be fighting for your mother, and every mother and child who has suffered as you have, and more. Is that so much to ask? That is the only question that matters now.’

He reached over and gently squeezed Marcus’s arm. ‘You are tired. It is best if you rest now that you have eaten and are warm. Stay here by the fire and sleep. We’ll talk again in the morning. I’m sure you will see the truth of my words then.’

Marcus looked at him. ‘And if I don’t?’

‘You will.’ Brixus’s expression hardened. ‘There are only two sides in this conflict, Marcus. Those who fight for liberty and those who don’t.’ He let his hand fall away, then rose to his feet and looked down. ‘For the sake of our friendship, I hope you choose the right side.’