The Gladiator

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The first attack on Gortyna took place only a few hours after Ajax returned to his camp. His closest comrades had never seen him so angry as he swept past his bodyguards and into the half-ruined farmhouse that he had chosen for his headquarters. He tore off his cloak, and hurled it to one side as he made for the jug of wine and hunks of bread and cheese that had been left out for his supper. There were some of his men who made every effort to enjoy the finest foods that they had been able to loot from the wealthy villas that the slave army had sacked. Ajax did not begrudge them such indulgences. After a life of servitude, they had every right to taste freedom in all its forms. He preferred a simple diet, one that would feed his body and not spoil it, and he made no secret of his plain fare, knowing that it would bind his followers closer to him.

Now he forced himself to sit down at the table and pour himself a cup of wine. He drank it deliberately and then poured another and dipped his bread in before chewing it methodically, staring at the cracked wall in front of him. The owner of the farm had obviously been a man of some wealth, but limited taste. The walls of this, his dining room, had been covered with murals depicting a bacchanal orgy. Directly in front of Ajax was an image of a pair of gladiators, a secutor like Ajax himself, in a wary crouch as he faced a net-wielding retiarius. Arranged around them were the guests, drinking and gorging and laughing as they urged the gladiators on. One of the women, heavily made up, was holding the penis of a man as she watched the fight with an excited expression. In the centre of the party sat the host, a fat, jolly bald man wearing a leaf crown awry on his shining pate as he raised a cup in the air, filled to overflowing.

'Bastards!' Ajax roared, snatching up the jug and hurling it against the wall with all his might. The jug exploded, sending shards of pottery and jets of wine in all directions. The mural was instantly covered in dark liquid that ran down the wall so that the images were distorted by a red film. Ajax's heart was pounding as he stared at the wall with wide, terrifying eyes. Behind him there was a creak as the door swung on its hinges.

'General? Are you all right?' Chilo asked anxiously. There was a pause as he saw the remains of the jug and the wine on the wall.

'General?'

For a moment Ajax remained still, fighting back the rage that burned in his heart. The memory of his slavery was still like an open wound, and above all thought of the indignities and pain that he had suffered was the image of Centurion Macro, one of those responsible for the crucifixion of his father, and the cause of Ajax being sold into slavery. Macro, and that other one, the tall, thin officer his own age, and the legate who had commanded them, Vespasian. Even if the others were beyond his reach, serving elsewhere in the accursed empire of Rome, Macro was at hand, and at his mercy. Ajax muttered an oath to every god he held sacred that he would avenge his father, he would avenge himself and he would make sure that Macro was made to suffer every torment that could be conceived before he was allowed to die.

Chilo coughed. 'General? Is there anything I can do?'

Ajax sucked in a deep breath and turned round. Chilo commanded the best men of the slave army. They had been equipped with the pick of the captured armour and weapons. 'Yes. Summon your men. Have them formed up. We have some ladders, I recall.'

'Yes, General, some, but they are in sections and will need to be securely lashed together before we can use them on the walls of Gortyna.'

'Then see to it. At once. We will attack as soon as they are ready'

'Attack?' Chilo could not hide his astonishment. The openness of his character was one of the reasons Ajax had chosen him to be one of his closest comrades. He could not hide anything from his general, especially any sign of doubt or treachery.

'But General, the men have marched most of the day. They will be settling in for the night.'

'That's too bad. Besides, the Romans will have seen us make camp. They won't be expecting any attack so soon after we have arrived. That's why we must do it. To catch them unawares.' Ajax thought a moment. 'We'll make for that section close to the main gate. It's been repaired, but it looks weak, and they haven't been able to raise it back up to the level of the rest of the wall.' He nodded to himself. 'Yes. We'll attack there, out of the darkness.'

The gleaming helmets of the sentries were clearly visible by the light of the flames flickering along the wall as Ajax thrust his hand up to halt the column behind him. Chilo repeated the gesture and the men drew up, still and silent as shadows. Ajax had ordered them to leave all unnecessary kit back at the camp, and anything that might make a noise that would give them away. Halfa mile back, the much larger war band of Kharim stood ready to charge in if a breach was secured, or the gatehouse seized. His men were armed with an assortment of weapons and carried little or no protection. But their hearts were filled with determination to throw themselves at their enemy if the chance came.

Chilo's men were barefoot and wore scale armour and helmets.

They carried shields and spears with daggers thrust into their sword belts. Ajax waved his hand and the men gently eased their shields down and crouched beside them. Ajax lowered his own shield and spear to the ground and removed his helmet, softly ordering Chilo to do the same.

He gestured to Chilo to accompany him and they crept towards the walls, no more than a hundred paces away. They kept low and moved slowly, edging towards the glow cast by the light of the torches up on the wall. The gatehouse was just to their right, and the flames of a brazier mounted on the squat tower over the gate flared into the night, occasionally sending up small swirls of bright sparks that quickly flickered and died. Ajax was keen to get as close to the wall as he could to see where the repaired section looked weakest. If they could rush the wall and break into the city, then the gatehouse could be quickly taken and the gates opened for Kharim and his men to finish the job. He was about to creep further forward for a closer inspection of the defences when Chilo suddenly seized his arm and held him back.

'What?' Ajax hissed fiercely as he glanced round.

'Look there.' Chilo released his grip and pointed into the grass two feet ahead of them. At first Ajax could see nothing out of the ordinary, and then he spotted it, a dark spike, unnaturally straight and unlike the blades of grass surrounding it. He reached forward cautiously and felt the object. Cold metal. He picked it up and drew it back for a closer look. He was holding the object by one of four prongs, each the length of his finger and ending in a sharp spike.

'Very clever, our Roman friends,' he whispered. 'They've sown the approaches with these… things. They'd break a charge beautifully'

He stared at it a moment and then tossed it to one side. 'We have to clear a path before we bring the men forward.'

Chilo nodded, then suddenly froze, straining his ears. He turned his head to the right and pointed. 'There.'

Ajax squinted in the direction indicated and saw a dark figure backing away from them, hunched over a wicker basket, which he dipped into, tossing something to one side.

'Should we wait until he's gone, General?'

'No. He might see us, or come back this way. Wait here,' he ordered, and pulling out his dagger he half rose and slowly circled round to his right. The enemy soldier continued with his task, occasionally pausing and raising his head to glance towards the rebel camp, at which Ajax froze until the Roman returned to his work, and then moved on again. Once he had crept round behind the man, he closed in, step by step; then, clenching his fist around the handle of the dagger, he sprang forwards, sprinting the last few feet. The Roman heard the rustle of grass and glanced back just as Ajax slammed into him, knocking him down. He clamped his hand over the man's mouth and thrust his head down against the ground as he smothered the Roman's lighter frame and brought the tip of the dagger up under the soldier's chin. By the faint glow of the torches he saw that his enemy was aged and scrawny, a veteran auxiliary close to the end of his enlistment.

'One move, one sound, and you're dead.' He pressed the blade so the man would realise his peril. 'Understand?'

The man nodded slightly, eyes wide with terror. He winced as the point bit into his skin.

'Good,' Ajax whispered, then slowly lifted his hand from the man's mouth. 'Are you out here alone?'

'N — no. Don't kill me.'

'You'll live if you answer me truthfully' Ajax inched his knife back.' Now then, how many more of you are there?'

'Four. There are four of us. Two on the other side of the gatehouse and one going in the other direction.'

'Will he come back this way?'

The Roman thought briefly and shook his head.' Not for a while.

He had more ground to cover.'

Ajax nodded towards the basket the man had been dragging.

'Those things you're sowing on the ground.'

'The caltrops?'

Ajax half smiled — so that was what they were called. 'Yes, the caltrops. How deeply have you laid them?'

'Over ten, fifteen feet.'

'I see.' Ajax suddenly clamped his hand down and thrust the dagger up through the Roman's throat and into his skull, twisting the blade left and right, scrambling the man's brains. The soldier spasmed violently, but he made no sound apart from a light gasp, then he went limp. Ajax lifted his hand from the man's mouth and pulled the dagger out, feeling a warm rush of blood spurt over his fist. He eased himself off the body, and wiped his blade on the man's tunic before sliding it back into his belt and making his way back to Chilo.

'There's another of them over to the left.' He spoke softly as he knelt down. 'Send one of your men to deal with him. Then you and I have to clear a path through to the wall.'

Ajax crept back and took spears from four of his men before returning to the first caltrop. He thrust two of the spears into the ground, twenty feet apart, and then went down on his hands and knees and groped through the grass until he found the next caltrop.

He tossed it to one side and edged forward until he found and disposed of the next. Chilo joined him to the left, together with another man, and worked through the grass towards the wall. They were about halfway through the task when there was a strangled cry from their left and they froze for an instant, staring towards the city to see if there was any sign of alarm. Ajax watched the nearest sentries, but they seemed not to have heard the noise and continued the patrols along their allotted stretch of the wall.

'Back to work,' Ajax whispered and edged himself forward in the grass, cautiously extending his hand to feel for the next spike. He breathed a sigh of relief that the alarm had not been raised. At that moment there was a shout from further along the wall, relayed from sentry to sentry, and then the shrill blare of a horn cut through the cool night air. Ajax jumped to his feet and ran back to retrieve his shield and spear. He swung the point towards the wall and bellowed to Chilo's men, ' Charge! Charge ' em and show the bastards how well a slave dies!'

Chilo sprang towards him. 'We haven't finished removing the caltrops! General, you must stop the men!'

It was too late. The ladder parties came running forward out of the darkness. Ajax indicated the spears. 'Between those. Make straight for the wall!'

They ran past, carrying the hastily assembled ladders under their arms, and crossed over the belt of the Roman defences. All made it safely through, except one of the men from the last team, who suddenly screamed in agony, released his grip on the ladder and collapsed on to the ground, howling as he pulled the spike out of his crippled foot. Ajax ignored him as he stormed after the ladder parties and raced on towards the wall. Behind him came the rest of the men, urged on by Chilo, as he bellowed at them to get forward and pass between the spears.

Ahead of the rebels the defenders were pointing them out and shouting their cries of warning. More Romans spilled out on to the battlements above the gatehouse, and a moment later there was a flare of gleaming flames and a bundle of oil-soaked rags arced over the parapet and roared as it tumbled down the wall and rolled away from the base towards the ditch. In the light of the bright flames the ladder parties were easily observed and sentries began to heft their javelins, ready to hurl them into the figures streaming out of the night. The shrill notes of the trumpet had been taken up by others across the city and up on the acropolis, and Ajax knew that time was against him now.

He reached the ditch and paused near the edge to wave the ladder parties on. 'Get over! Fast as you can!'

The first four men carrying their ladder stumbled and slid down the slope into the ditch, crossed the bottom and began to scale the far side, each using his spare hand to scrabble for purchase on any tufts of grass or exposed roots. The head of a javelin buried itself in the soil by Ajax and he instinctively raised his shield and hunched down, watching for danger. There were more men appearing along the top of the wall all the time, and he felt the first cold stab of anxiety in his guts over the fate of the attack. Should he have taken this risk? Was this more about finding and killing that centurion than attempting to take the enemy by surprise?

The other ladder parties rushed past him, scrambling across the ditch and up the other side before making straight for the base of the wall to set their ladders in place. More burning faggots flared down from above, clearly revealing the ladders and the men in the lurid orange hue of their flames. The rebels made easy targets now, and Ajax saw the first man fall, skewered by a javelin that passed through his back and on down deep into his leg. The man released his grip and dropped to the side in terrible agony. His hands groped round to the shaft of the javelin and feebly tried to pull it free, only to cause fresh agonies that made him scream. A second man was killed under the first ladder as a large stone crushed his head.

There was a sudden rush of men past Ajax as the rest of Chilo's war band surged across the ditch and up the far side before making for the ladders held in place by their comrades. Now, many more missiles were being thrown down from above and could hardly fail to find a target in the wave of rebels racing towards the wall.

'Keep going!' Ajax bellowed.' Up the ladders!'

Springing forward, Ajax joined the rush struggling across the ditch. He kept his shield up, and it slammed back into him as a body fell against the front. He threw his weight to one side, over his steady foot, in order to keep his balance, then thrust hard to make sure the body fell away. He continued, gritting his teeth once as a stone cracked off the corner of his shield. Then he was at the base of the ladder, heart pounding.

'Move aside!' he shouted into the face of the man about to climb the first rung. One more was ahead of him, halfway up already. On either side more men had reached the ladders and were starting to ascend the wall. Ajax transferred his spear to his shield hand, grasped the side of the ladder and began to scale the rungs one at a time. In front of him he could see that the stones had been crudely laid without mortar and he cursed the fact that his army had no siege weapons of any kind. He imagined a catapult or a covered ram would make short work of the hastily repaired wall. There were shouts from above as the Romans be came aware of the danger of the men climbing up towards them. Glancing up, he saw the dim shapes of heads leaning over the parapet and there was a thud as another stone glanced off his shield.

'Target those men on the wall!' Chilo called out. 'Use stones! Rocks! Anything they throw at us!'

Some of the rebels stooped to pick up whatever came to hand and hurled it up at the enemy, driving some of them back. Some missiles clattered back down, falling on the men below, but did little harm as they bounced off the armour that had been taken from the bodies of Marcellus's men. The man ahead of Ajax reached the last rung as the ladder gave out close to the parapet. He swung his leg up and over and disappeared from view as Ajax climbed up into his place. His heart was beating wildly and he felt a heightened sense of vulner-ability and fear that went beyond the normal tense anxiety of the arena, or any battle he had ever fought in. His right hand groped up the rough stonework until his fingers reached the edge. Sliding his hand over the parapet, he grasped the inside of the wall and heaved himself up, swinging his foot up as he went. Even though he had a firm purchase with his hand and foot, it still took some effort to lift his weight, burdened by armour and the spear, over the parapet and on to the wall.

Ajax landed lightly on his feet, and quickly transferred his spear back into his right hand as he sheltered behind his shield. He rose up, glancing to both sides. The man who had climbed the wall ahead of him was battling to the right, desperately defending the foothold he had gained at the top of the ladder. Ajax turned the other way and saw a section of Romans struggling to dislodge the ladders further along as they stabbed down with their javelins and tried to lever the ladders away from the wall. Luckily they had been preoccupied with the threat immediately in front of them and had not seen him. Down in the city he saw scores of the enemy piling out of side streets into the base of the gatehouse and making for the stairs to reinforce their comrades facing the rebels.

Ajax lifted his spear and switched to an overhand grip, resting the head of the shaft on the shield rim as he moved towards the defenders. He took a quick glance back and saw that another man had reached the wall.

'Follow me,' he ordered as he advanced along the narrow walkway. He closed to within ten feet of the nearest Roman before he was noticed. The man barely had time to turn before the gladiator was upon him, thrusting with his spear. The iron head punched into the hand thrown up in a vain effort to ward the blow off. The point passed through it and on into the man's throat, cutting through windpipe and spine before bursting out the back of his neck. Ajax thrust his shield out, knocking the body to one side as he wrenched the spear back, ripping it free before concentrating on his next opponent. A burly optio had succeeded in tipping one of the ladders back and now turned to face Ajax, snatching out his sword as he raised his shield.

For an instant the two men sized each other up. Ajax could tell at once that the optio was an experienced and able fighter. His balance was good and he had lowered himself into a crouch, from which position he could spring into a powerful attack the moment he saw his chance.

Lifting his spear slightly, Ajax feinted towards the optio's face. The man parried it easily and resumed his posture. Then, with a sudden snarl, he lunged forward, his point stabbing towards Ajax's groin. Ajax swung his shield round and deflected the blow, and instantly thrust again with his spear before the optio could recover. But the man was surprisingly nimble for one his size and he ducked under the strike.

Ajax backed off a pace, and risked a quick glance to see how the fight was going. Beyond the section ahead of him, more men were spreading along the wall. Below, in the streets, the enemy streamed towards the steps leading up on to the wall. There was not much time, Ajax realised. If the rebels could not get enough men on to the wall to make their numbers tell, then the assault was doomed.

The optio clattered his sword against the edge of his shield and sneered.' Had enough, then?'

Ajax could not help laughing. Such an obvious taunt was beneath even the greenest of gladiators. He moved forward again, determined to cut the man down and clear a path for Chilo and his men. The optio's shield came up, ready to take the next spear thrust. Ajax feinted high, forcing the Roman to raise his shield still further, then the gladiator went down on one knee, angling the edge of his shield forward and smashing it against the other man's leading shin. There was a sharp crack at the impact and the optio bellowed in pain and rage as he collapsed. Ajax recovered, rising over his victim, and struck home, taking the man under the armpit, driving through his side into his chest. He stamped his foot down on the Roman, then yanked the spearhead free and stepped over the body. With the death of the optio, the other Romans backed away, crowding back towards the first of their comrades who had climbed the wall to aid them.

The gladiator glanced over his shoulder. Ten or more of his men were on the wall now, together with Chilo. As three of them came running along the walkway, Ajax stepped into the parapet to let them pass.

'Keep ' em busy!' he ordered. 'Don't let them press you back.'

He retreated a few paces before turning and hurrying towards Chilo, and thrust his arm out towards the gatehouse. 'That way! Keep the men going that way. We must take the gate, quickly!'

Chilo nodded, calling to his men, ' Follow me!'

Together with several of his companions, Chilo ran along the wall towards the open door leading from the walkway into the gatehouse.

He was no more than a spear's length from the opening when a Roman stepped out, then stopped in surprise as he saw the rebels pounding towards him. The next moment Chilo slammed into him and they crashed back through the doorway into the gatehouse. His men crowded in behind him and the sounds of shouts and the clash of shields and blades carried outside to Ajax. He had already transferred his bloodied spear to his shield hand and was helping a man over the rampart and thrusting him towards the gatehouse.' Go!'

As he waited for the next man, Ajax looked back along the wall and saw that only two ladders were still standing. In the streets, the sound of nailed boots was deafening as more and more Romans rushed towards the endangered section of their defences, and he knew that the rebels could not get enough men on to the wall to hold it for much longer. Already one of the three men tasked with holding the walkway further along was down, doubled over as he curled round a wound to his groin. His comrades were forced back and a moment later the man was dead, killed by the first Roman to step over him.

Another man came over the rampart and Ajax grabbed his arm.

'With me!'

He hurried forward to help the two men faced by impossible odds. Four might stem the enemy tide long enough for Chilo to take the gatehouse. They stood, shields presented to the Romans, stabbing overhead with their spears. Another of the defenders went down, clutching his throat as he toppled off the wall. Then the enemy were up close, shield to shield, grunting with the effort of pressing the rebels back. Step by step, Ajax and the others were forced to give ground, falling back past the top of the other remaining ladder. Then one of his men collapsed, caught by the blade of a short sword rammed through a gap in their shields. Behind him he heard renewed sounds of fighting from the gatehouse and then Chilo ordering his men to fall back.

'No!' Ajax shouted at the top of his voice. 'Chilo! Hold fast!'

But his voice was drowned out by another, cutting through the night as a Roman officer bellowed,'Kill the bastards! Cut ' em down! Come on, lads, on me!'

Ajax felt a nudge at his shoulder as another man who had climbed the ladder joined the desperate struggle. He let the man by to take his place and turned to see how Chilo was faring. There was a sick feeling in his gut as he saw that a fresh wave of Romans had already pushed the rebels out of the gatehouse and was forcing them back towards the remaining ladder. The fight was lost, Ajax realised at once, and instantly knew he must do what he could to save his men.

He leaned over the wall. 'Back! Fall back!'

The upturned faces below him were dimly visible by the fading glow of the burning faggots, and their looks of despair cut into his heart like knives, but there was nothing else he could do. 'Fall back, I said! Now!'

The first of them turned and retreated towards the ditch.

'General!' Chilo came up to him, panting and face spattered with blood. He nodded towards the remaining ladder. 'You first.'

For an instant Ajax was tempted to refuse, before his reason took over. The attack had failed and his men would need him alive.

'All right. But you and the rest get down as fast as you can.'

'Yes, General.'

Ajax swung himself back over the parapet and felt for the top rung with his bare feet. He let his spear drop to the ground below and clambered back down. As he reached the bottom, the first of Chilo's men came after him.

'Don't let them get away!' the Roman officer shouted above the din of the fight on the wall, and Ajax felt his guts tighten at the sound. He looked up and snarled through clenched teeth,

'Macro…'

One by one his men came down the ladder and fled back across the ditch. From the other side there were cries of shock and pain, and Ajax realised that some of them must have run over the belt of caltrops in their haste to get away from the wall. Chilo landed heavily beside him.

'You the last?'

'Two still up there.'

There was nothing that could be done for them. Ajax clapped Chilo on the shoulder. 'Let's go.'

They turned and ran towards the ditch as there was a brief, final clash of weapons on the wall. Then a voice boomed out:

'AJAX!'

He hesitated and looked back. In the light of a torch blazing a short distance along the wall, he saw the Roman centurion. He had a javelin drawn back in his right hand as he took aim at the rebel leader. Then, with a grunt, he hurled the weapon down. His aim was true and the dark shaft swept towards Ajax. Before he could react, a body slammed into him, knocking him to one side. The javelin struck with a sound like a pick driven into wet sand and there was an explosive grunt of air. Ajax's gladiator's reflexes served him well as he rolled back into a crouch. At his feet lay Chilo, staring up and gasping as his fingers felt the shaft that pinned him to the ground through his stomach.

'General, go,' he managed to groan.

Ajax grasped the shaft and wrenched it out. Then he grabbed Chilo, lifted him on to his back and scrambled down the ditch, across the bottom and up the other side. There was another shout from the wall.

'Don't just stand there, you dozy bastards! Get him!'

Another javelin struck the earth close by as Ajax struggled over the edge of the ditch. Several more followed as he staggered on, watching the ground as carefully as he could to make sure he did not step on one of the caltrops. Once he was sure that he had passed through them and was out of range of the javelins, he sagged down and lowered Chilo to the grass. Chilo rolled on to his back with a sharp cry of pain and clutched a hand to the wound.

'Oh… fuck, fuck, it hurts,' he muttered.

Ajax saw some more of his men a short distance off.' Over here, now!'

Even thoughthey recognised the sound of their general, they hesitated briefly before they did as he ordered. Ajax indicated the stricken Chilo. 'Get him back to my headquarters and send for Kharim. Understand? Then go, now!'

They picked Chilo up and made off into the night. Ajax's heart was still pounding from his exertions and he stood breathing hard as he stared back towards the wall. The crest of the centurion was plainly visible amongst the other men behind the rampart. There was a derisive whistle, then jeering from the enemy, and Ajax spat to clear his throat.

'Macro!' He cupped a hand to his mouth and called again. 'Macro! When I take the city, I will cut your heart out with my own hand! This I swear!'