The Gladiator

CHAPTER FIVE

Senator Sempronius cleared his throat and took a step towards the prefect's desk. 'Centurion Portillus!'

The officer turned quickly at the tone of command in the senator's voice.

'Centurion Portillus, I am assuming the authority of the governor for the present emergency. I will also take command of all military and naval forces present in Crete, starting with this cohort. Do you understand?'

Portillus looked shocked, as did the others in the room. After a moment he swallowed and clasped his hands. 'But sir, the governor has appointed me, as you just heard.'

'The governor was acting on the basis that you were the senior surviving official. He could hot have known that I, or these other officers, were present on the island. Since they are legionary centurions they outrank you, and as a senator I carry the authority of the senate with my rank. I would be the most suitable replacement for Governor Hirtius and I intend to take command. Is that clear?'

Portillus nodded and then bit his lip.

'Do you have a problem with my decision?'

'Well, yes, sir. There's the question of protocol.'

'Protocol?' Macro grumbled. 'What are you talking about?'

'Strictly speaking, the senator needs the permission of the emperor to enter a province, ' Portillus continued nervously.

'What?' Macro raised his voice. 'What the hell are you talking about? Our bloody ship is leaking like a sieve. Where else could we go? Or do you think we should have nipped back to Rome first to get the emperor's nod that it's all right for us to set foot on this bloody island?'

'That's the regulations, sir.'

'Bollocks!' Macro spat back. 'Bollocks to regulations, you fool.'

Sempronius intervened. 'Centurion Portillus is right to raise the issue However, given the circumstances — the extraordinary circumstances — I think the normal rules have to be ignored. Besides, ' he turned back to Portillus, 'I am sure that you would be content to pass the responsibility for the cohort on to a more senior official. Is that not so?'

Portillus bowed his head.' Of course, sir. As you wish.' He glanced towards the messenger still standing near the door, and then continued in a very deliberate tone. 'Naturally, I will want it on record that you insist on taking command, and that you assume full responsibility for your actions, sir.'

'As you wish, you'll have that in writing, ' Sempronius replied, struggling to keep the contempt from his voice. 'So then, I am now in charge. Agreed?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Then the first priority is to restore order here in Matala and help the survivors.' The senator looked towards Cato and Macro and thought for a moment before he made a decision. 'Centurion Macro, you are to assume control here in Matala. I authorise you to do whatever is necessary to help the local people. You are to commandeer any remaining food stocks and existing shelter. Priority is to be given to rescuing those still trapped in the rubble and the injured. There is to be no looting, such as we saw on the way here. Use whatever force is necessary to prevent such lawlessness. Is that understood?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Good. Now then, Centurion Cato, you and I must head for Gortyna at once. We have to see what's left of the province's administration. That's where we need to be in order to regain control of Crete and deal with this chaos.'

Cato nodded. 'Yes, sir. What about the ship, and those still on board?'

Sempronius smiled. 'Julia is safe where she is for now.'

'But she would be safer if she was brought here, sir.'

'Of course. Centurion Macro will take care of it.'

Macro patted his friend on the shoulder. 'Trust me.'

'And you might as well take charge of the crew and passengers,' Sempronius continued. 'Add them to the cohort. They may not be soldiers, but they're good men. They've more than proved that they can be useful in a crisis.'

'I'll see to it.'

'Sailors?' Centurion Portillus shook his head. 'In the Twelfth Hispania? The lads'll not stand for it, sir.'

'They'll stand for whatever I tell them to, ' Macro said firmly. 'And from what I've seen so far, they'll be a welcome addition to the slackers lounging around the acropolis. Now then, Portillus, I want all the men and officers assembled for parade. Time for them to meet their new commander.'

As Portillus hurried off to carry out his orders, Sempronius clasped Macro's hand.' Good luck, Centurion. Do what you can. If you need to report anything, send word to me at Gortyna.'

'Yes, sir. How long do you intend staying there?'

Sempronius thought for a moment and then shrugged. 'As long as it takes, I suppose. The gods only know what we will find there, and what the situation is across the rest of the province. Once I've assessed the situation I will send word to you here in Matala.'

The senator and Cato took some cloaks from the prefect's quarters to keep them warm during the night's ride to Gortyna, then chose two of the best horses from the prefect's stable in the corner of the acropolis's courtyard and mounted up. As they clopped out of the gate, the men of the cohort were already shambling into formation, under Macro's disapproving glare as he stood in the shade of the basilica's colonnade. Cato twisted in the saddle as they rode past.

'See you soon, Macro.'

'Take care, Cato. I've a feeling we're in for a bastard time of it.'

Sempronius clicked his tongue and urged his horse into a trot as they approached the gate and then rode down the ramp towards the main street of the town, lined with ruins. As they passed through the remains of the gate, Cato took a last look towards the sea. Although he could not see the side of the bay where the Horus was beached, he felt his heart stir with anxiety for Julia's safety.

Sempronius noticed the expression on the young officer's face and smiled.' Rest easy, Cato. No harm will come to her while she's in Macro's care.'

Cato forced himself to smile back. 'I know. I pity any man who would try and cross him.'

They rode away from the city following the Gortyna road over rolling hills, where they passed further scenes of destruction caused by the earthquake. Many more villas, farms and roadside shrines had been toppled and were now no more than heaps of bricks, tiles and timber. The survivors had dragged out the injured and some of the bodies, which lay in makeshift shrouds waiting for burial or cremation. The living stared at the passing horsemen with gaunt expressions of horror and numbed shock, and Cato felt guilty as he followed Sempronius and tried to ignore the suffering that stretched out mile after mile along the road to Gortyna.

As dusk settled, Sempronius gave the order to stop and rest the horses at the edge of a small village. Not one house had survived and there was a dreadful stillness in the gathering gloom as figures huddled in whatever shelter they could find for the night. There were no cries of grief, and no moans from the wounded. The only sound was a light sobbing from the remains of a small farm close by. Cato tethered his horse to the stump of a tree and made his way over towards the source of the crying.

'Cato, ' Sempronius called softly. 'Don't go far.'

Cato nodded and continued forward cautiously. In the gloom he could make out the line of a fallen wall and tiles scattered across the ground. The sound came more clearly. Crouching down close to the blocks of stone that made up the wall, he saw a flicker of movement beneath some of the tiles close by. He leaned forward and carefully removed the nearest tile. There was a startled cry, and Cato saw the top half of a small child, no more than two years old, lying on its back. The child was naked and the puffy pale flesh was smeared with grime and blood. The tile had struck its head, gouging. a patch of scalp away, and a tacky black mass of dried blood and matted hair covered one side. The child's eyes were open, and wide blue eyes gazed intently at Cato as the whimpering continued.

'You're all right, ' Cato said gently. 'Shhh, you're all right.'

He cleared the debris away from the exposed half of the child's body and then saw that a large slab of stone lay just below the waist, covering the legs. He took hold of the edges of the stone and eased it up now able to see that the child was male. As the pressure came off the boy's pelvis and legs he screamed, a shrill, piercing cry of agony. Cato flung the stone aside and took the boy's hand.

'There, it's gone. Hush now. Shhh.' He glanced down, and at once a wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm him. The stone had crushed the boy from the waist down, shattering bones and laying open the delicate flesh. The thin shafts of the shin bones spiked out from the skin where the legs had been violently broken.

The boy let out a scream and suddenly started shuddering violently. Cato hurriedly undid the clasp of his cloak and covered the child, tucking one end under his head to act as a pillow. All the time the boy's tiny hand clasped Cato's fingers with surprising strength, until the screaming died away and he lay, staring at Cato, shuddering as he drew breaths in ragged gasps. There was a crunch of boots on the rubble close by and Cato glanced up to see Sempronius, who had come to investigate the screaming.

'What's that you have there?'

'A boy' Cato shuffled aside so that the senator could see.' He was caught by this wall when it fell.'

'How is he?'

Cato swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth and felt his throat contract. He cleared it harshly before he could reply. 'His legs are broken.'

'I see… Will he live?'

For a moment Cato was silent. He wanted to say that the boy would live and could be saved. But it was a lie. Even if, by some miracle, he survived, he would spend the rest of his days as a cripple.

No one had come to rescue him and Cato glanced at the ruins of the house beyond the fallen wall, where no doubt the rest of his family lay buried under the rubble. He looked down at the child, and forced himself to smile as he quietly replied to the senator.

'I doubt he will survive another night if we leave him here, sir. It's a miracle he's still alive. He might live, if we can find some one to take care of him. The surgeon of the Twelfth Hispania might save him, but only at the cost of his legs.'

Sempronius glanced at Cato with narrowed eyes and then said deliberately, 'Too bad we can't take him back to Matala.'

'Why not? It's only two hours down the road.'

'Two hours there, two hours back, more like three once we start riding in the dark. I'm sorry, Cato, but we can't afford to return to Matala. We have to press on.'

'Why?' Cato stared up at Sempronius. 'We should do what we can for him first.'

'There isn't time. Now leave him and let's go.'

'Leave him?' Cato shook his head. 'Like this? He wouldn't have a chance.'

'He doesn't have much of a chance as it is. You said so yourself.'

Cato was still holding the boy's hand. He bit his lip.' No. I can't leave him, sir. It's not right.'

Sempronius took a deep breath.' Centurion Cato, it's not a question of right or wrong. I'm giving you an order.'

There was a tense silence as the two men stared at each other.

Then the child groaned slightly and Cato looked down and stroked the boy's fine hair with his spare hand. 'Easy now, lad. Easy.'

'Cato, ' Sempronius continued in a gentle tone, 'we have to go on.

We have to get to Gortyna as soon as possible. We have to do what we can to restore order, to help people and to save lives. There's not much we can dofor this one. And if we lost the best part of a day by taking him back to Matala, then other lives might be put at risk as a result.'

'They might be, ' Cato replied.' Who can say for certain? But if we abandon this boy now, then we can be sure he will die, cold and alone.'

'Perhaps, perhaps not. He might be saved by some one.'

'Do you really believe that?'

'Do you really believe that a delay would not put lives at risk in Gortyna?' Sempronius countered.

Cato frowned, torn by the truth of the senator's words, and his own moral compulsion to do what he could to save the boy. He decided to try another tack. 'What if this was Julia? Would you still say we should go on?'

'But it isn't Julia, fortunately. Now, Cato, my boy, please see reason.

You're an officer, with wider obligations to your duty, to your empire. I'm sure you have had to leave badly wounded men behind you on campaign. This boy is a casualty, and one you can do nothing for. Why, I dare say that the slightest movement would be the most terrible agony. Would you really put him through the torment of a ride back to Matala? Only for him to die there? It is kindest to leave him-' Sempronius laid his hand on Cato's shoulder and squeezed gently. 'Believe me… Now we have to go. Come.'

Cato felt a bitter pain in his throat as he fought to accept Sempronius's argument. Whatever his heart said, he had responsibilities to others, many others. He tore his eyes away from the boy's face and released his tender hold on the small hand. At once the fingers scrabbled and grasped at Cato's as the boy's eyes stared in terror. Cato hurriedly stood up and backed away, pulling his hand free.

'Come.' Sempronius drew him away, towards the tethered horses.

'No time to waste.'

As Cato turned and followed the senator, a shrill, keening cry of panic and terror split the dusk and pierced his young heart like a javelin. He felt that he wanted to be sick, that he was a cold, inhuman creature who had forsaken any claim to those qualities that defined a good man.

'We have to go.' Sempronius raised his voice, grasping Cato's arm and pulling him firmly away from the intensifying cries of the small boy. 'Get on your horse and let's be away. Don't forget what I said. Others need you.'

He steered Cato to the side of his mount and helped heave him up on to its back. Then he hurriedly untethered the horse and thrust the reins into Cato's hand before slapping the animal's flank to send it on its way with a shrill whinny. Sempronius mounted his own beast and spurred it on, after the other horse. When he drew alongside the centurion, he glanced at him quickly and saw the grim set of Cato's expression in the twilight. Sempronius felt a heavy weight of guilt settle on his heart. It had been a hard but necessary duty to leave the stricken child, and it had clearly affected Cato far more than himself. The young man had a good soul. He felt deeply, and was not afraid to show it. As Sempronius urged his horse ahead, there was one small grain of comfort he could glean from the situation. That was the realisation that his daughter had chosen her man well.

As night closed in over Crete they rode on, following the main route across the rich agricultural plain to Gortyna. On either side the groves of olive trees, fruit orchards and vineyards stretched out towards the distant hills. Much of the land had been bought up and concentrated in estates, owned by some of the wealthiest men of the empire. While they lived lives of luxury in the cities, the estates were managed for them by stewards. Beneath the stewards were the overseers who commanded the gangs of slaves that toiled from before dawn to dusk. For most of the slaves life was brutal and short and death was a release. Now, though, the situation had changed, Cato reflected. The earthquake had flattened many of the estates, and the slaves would snatch the opportunity to escape, or turn on their former masters.

It was a clear night, and even though a crescent moon and the star-speckled heavens provided dim illumination, Sempronius slowed the pace to a walk.

'No point in having the horses stumble, ' he explained. 'Besides, they could use a rest.'

'So could I.' Cato shifted his buttocks and rubbed a hand on the small of his back. Thenight air was cool, and now he wondered at the wisdom of leaving his cloak with the dying boy. At once he dismissed the unworthy thought and glanced round at the surrounding landscape. The road climbed up on to a low ridge, and as they reached the crest Cato saw a fire blazing across the fields to his right, no more than quarter of a mile away.

'What in the name of the gods is going on over there?'

Sempronius muttered.

Both riders reined in as they gazed towards the lurid red flames licking up into the night. A pyre had been built close to the ruins of a collection of farm buildings. Around it were four stout timbers with crosspieces, from which hung the naked bodies of three men and a woman, close enough to the fire to be scorched by the heat. They writhed in agony and their cries, thin and distant though they were, chilled Cato's blood.

In the glow of the flames, and the stark shadows of those slowly roasting on the crosses, Cato could make out a ring of figures watching spectacle. Some of them carried jars and drank freely from them as they looked on. Others were dancing, while a few lobbed stones at their victims.

Cato swallowed. 'Looks like the slaves are taking their revenge.'

The two of them stared at the grim scene for a moment before the senator muttered, ' The poor bastards.'

'I fear this won't be the last time we witness this kind of thing,' said Cato. 'It will be breaking out across the island, I imagine.'

As they watched, a burly man emerged from the crowd with a mallet and went over to the cross bearing the woman. He knocked out the wedges, keeping the crosses in place, and then, bracing himself against the stake, pushed it towards the fire. The cross lurched over, hung still for a second as the woman thrashed uselessly against her bonds, and then toppled into the blaze in a burst of sparks and a sudden flare of flames that licked up into the night, along with a last scream of pain and terror.

'I've seen enough, ' said Cato. 'We'd best go, sir.'

'Yes… yes, of course.'

Cato tugged his reins to turn the horse back in the direction of Gortyna, and was about to dig his heels in when he saw a figure stroll out on to the road, ten paces ahead.

'And where do you think you're going?' the man called out cheerily in roughly accented Latin. 'Two riders out on the road in the middle of night can't be up to any good.'

Senator Sempronius breathed a sigh of relief at the man's amiable tone, while Cato's sword hand slipped casually down to his thigh.

'You'd better get out of here, ' said Sempronius. 'There's a slave gang on the loose nearby. You should escape while you can.'

'Oho!' the man called back and took a few paces towards the riders.' From the sound of your voice, you must be part of the quality, a very proper Roman and no mistake.'

'I am a Roman official, ' Sempronius acknowledged. 'I have to get to Gortyna as swiftly as I can, so I'd ask you to step aside, my good man, then we can all be on our way'

The stranger was close enough now for Cato to make out some detail. He was tall and broad with unkempt hair and a beard, and dressed in a ragged tunic. A long club swung from his hand. He laughed as he lifted the club and let it rest on his shoulder.

'The thing is, this here road belongs to me now, and I've decided to charge a toll for road users.' His tone hardened. 'Beginning with you two. Now, get off those horses and hand them over. The horses and anything else of value you have on you.'

'What?' Sempronius stiffened in his saddle.' How dare you?'

As the man had been speaking, Cato was aware of movement either side of the road, and now he could see several figures closing in around them. His fingers tightened around the handle of his sword as he spoke quietly. 'Sir, we're in trouble. Draw your sword.'

'Trouble?' Sempronius looked round and froze as he saw men emerging from the shadows, each one holding a club, or pitchfork, and all as ragged as the first man. There was a swift clatter as the two Romans snatched out their swords and held them ready.

'Now then, don't push your luck, gentlemen,' the man said evenly.

'No sense in anyone getting hurt. There's far more of us than you. You put up any fight and I swear I'll gut you both. So, nice and easy like, throw your swords away and get off those horses.'

Cato's heart was pounding and there was the familiar icy tingle on the back of his neck that came before a fight. He gritted his teeth and growled, 'Since you've been good enough to play fair by us, I'll give you one warning. Get out of our way.'

There was a moment of stillness as the two Romans stared intently at the men surrounding them, then some one roared:

'Get 'em, lads!'

The shadows raced towards the horsemen. Cato kicked his heels in.' Ride, sir!'

Sempronius urged his mount forwards, but he was an instant slower to react than Cato, and before his horse had gone ten feet the man had snatched at the reins, while others rushed in from the side.

'Cato! Help!'

Cato twisted round in his saddle and saw the senator slashing wildly with his short sword at the figures flitting around him.

'Shit!' Cato hissed, and savagely wrenched the reins as he swerved his mount round. With his sword arm tensed he charged back into the loose melee about Sempronius. The horse let out a snort as it barged into the man holding the reins, and Cato slashed out with his sword in a wide arc, forcing the other men back. Then he gripped tight with his thighs as he swung across to the other side and hacked down at the hands still grasping the reins of Sempronius's horse. The blade thudded down, cutting flesh and shattering bone, and a shrill scream tore out of the man's lungs as he fell back staring in horror at his nearly severed hand. Cato leaned forward and snatched up the reins before pressing them towards the senator. 'Here!'

'Roman bastard!' a voice cried out, and Cato looked round just in time to see a man charging him with a pitchfork clutched in both hands. He snatched his sword blade back and chopped at the oncoming prongs. There was a sharp ring as metal met metal and Cato's blow knocked the prongs down, away from his chest. An instant later he felt a blow, like a punch, in his thigh, and there was a whinny from the horse as the other prong stuck into its side. Cato gasped, then snarled as he drew his arm back and slammed the tip of the blade deep into the man's chest, just below his neck. The attacker collapsed with a grunt, releasing his grip on the shaft of the pitchfork as he slumped to the ground. For a moment the shaft sagged, tearing at the flesh of man and horse, before Cato knocked it free with his sword. Then he glanced round, and saw that the two men he had put down had shaken the rest of the attackers.

'Go, sir!' he shouted at Sempronius.

This time he waited until the senator's mount had cleared the loose ring of men before he slapped the side of his blade into his own horse's rump and galloped after Sempronius. He heard a grunt, and another pitchfork narrowly flicked past his left side before dropping out of view. He ducked low, clenching his fist around the sword handle to ensure he did not drop it as they rode down the road to Gortyna. Behind them the attackers howled with rage and ran after them for a short distance, before giving up and hurling insults that gradually faded behind Cato as he followed Sempronius along the road.