The Gladiator

CHAPTER SEVEN

What the hell did we think we were doing?' Cato growled through clenched teeth as the senator tied his neck cloth tightly about the wound. 'We should have waited until light before setting off.'

'Shhh!' Sempronius glanced nervously at the surrounding trees.

'They might have followed us.'

'I doubt it. We must have covered at least two miles before the horse gave out.' Cato paused as another burning spasm shot through his leg. When it had passed he let out a deep breath and continued.

'I'm sure they'd have given up the chase long before then.'

'Let's hope so.' Sempronius tied off the knot and checked the makeshift dressing to ensure it would not slip. 'There. That should do it. It's my fault, Cato. I should have slowed the pace once we were clear. It was madness to keep galloping along the road in the dark like that. It's a miracle your horse didn't fall earlier on, or mine.'

'Well, we've only got the one now ' Cato smiled grimly. 'So no question of galloping anywhere.'

They had abandoned Cato's wounded horse back on the road where it had collapsed, bloody froth in its mouth and nostrils.

Sempronius had hauled Cato up behind him and they had continued another mile before taking a narrow track off into a grove of pine trees and then stopping to tend to Cato's wound. The prong had passed through the muscle at the back of his leg without striking bone, or severing any major blood vessels. The wound was bleeding freely, but despite the pain, Cato found that he could still bear weight on his leg. He walked a few paces to the spot where he slumped down and let Sempronius examine and dress the wound as best he could in the dim light cast by a crescent moon and the stars.

Sempronius eased himself back and sat on the ground clasping his hands together in his lap. 'What do you think we should do now?'

'I don't fancy blundering into any more gangs of renegade slaves.

Best to wait until first light when we can see the way ahead and avoid any trouble.'

'Yes, you're right.' Sempronius turned his head to look back in the direction of the road. 'Are you sure they were slaves?'

'I think so. They were all in rags, and we were near that estate where we saw…' Cato flinched at the memory and cleared his throat noisily. 'They must have gone to the road looking for easy pickings. We were lucky to get away. If those slaves, and what we saw back there, are typical of what is happening elsewhere on the island, then we've got more of a problem than I thought.'

'How so?'

'What if we find ourselves fighting a slave revolt?'

'A revolt? I don't think so. There's bound to be some temporary disorder. It's only natural that they would take advantage of the situation to turn on their overseers. Once they've drunk themselves insensible and woken up with a hangover, I'd be willing to bet they'd have no idea what they want to do next. Some might run off into the hills to try and join the brigands, but the rest will drift around the estate until some one comes along and sorts them out.'

'You think so?' Cato said doubtfully. 'I think you underestimate the danger, sir.'

'They're only slaves, my boy. Chain — gang slaves — the lowest of the low, little better than beasts. Trust me, they have no experience of making their own decisions. Without overseers to lead them, they won't have a clue what to do about the situation.'

'I hope you're right. But what if they did find a leader amongst their ranks? What then?'

'They won't. I've been on enough estates in my time to know how they operate. Any one showing an ounce of spirit or independence is either sold off to a gladiator school, or broken and punished as an example to the rest. We'll have them back in hand before long. Once the ringleaders responsible for that sickening display we witnessed have been identified and rounded up, they'll be crucified and their bodies left to rot. I think that'll teach the rest a lesson they won't forget for a long time.'

Cato nodded. Yet he still felt uneasy. He had no idea quite how many slaves there were on the island. If they did manage to organise, and find a leader, then they would pose a grave danger to Roman interests in Crete. Nor were slaves the only concern. There were brigands up in the hills, criminals, runaway slaves and outcasts, who would be sure to exploit the chaos. If the slaves and the brigands made common cause, then nothing short of a major campaign would ensure that the island remained part of the empire.

He shifted and shuffled back to prop himself up against the stump of a felled tree. 'I think we should get some rest now, sir. We've been on the go for the best part of two days without sleep. I'll take the first watch. I'll wake you when it's time for your turn.'

'Fair enough, but make sure that you do. I can't afford to have you too tired to offer me help when we reach Gortyna.'

'I'll wake you, sir. On my word.'

'Very well.' Sempronius cast his eyes about the ground and then picked a spot by the next tree, where there was a soft mound of pine needles. He pulled his cloak around him and settled down, resting his head on a root. After a while, his breathing be came steady and deep until he began to snore.

Cato leaned his head back and stared up at the heavens. It was a clear night, and stars and moon gleamed against a pitch-black backdrop. The view helped to calm his troubled mind for a moment and he wished that Julia was with him, nestled into the crook of his arm, her hair brushing softly against his chin. For a moment he recalled the aroma of her favourite scent and smiled faintly. Then a distant light caught his attention and he lowered his gaze and stared out across the dark landscape. A fire was flaring up on the plain, some miles away, and as he watched the flames spread quickly until a who le building was engulfed. He watched for a while longer, with a growing sense of foreboding in his heart.

Senator Sempronius took over and woke Cato just before dawn.

Cato stirred, and found that he lay under the senator's cloak. He nodded towards it and muttered his thanks.

'You needed it more than me.' Sempronius smiled. 'It was easy enough to walk up and down to stay warm. Actually, it reminded me of my days as a junior tribune in the Ninth Legion on the Rhine.

Not much comfort there, I can tell you. But I forget, you were stationed on the same frontier, weren't you?'

'Yes, sir. Once you've spent one winter there you never want to experience another. Cold as Hades.'

'Yes, I remember.' Sempronius shivered, and then offered Cato his hand.' Come, we have to go.'

Cato groaned as he rose to his feet. His injured leg felt stiff and immediately began to throb as he put weight on it.

Sempronius regarded him anxiously. 'Bad?'

'I've had worse. As long as I get the wound cleaned and rested for a few days I'll be fine.'

'Rest is something that will be in short supply, I fear.'

He clambered up on to the horse's back and then leaned down to help Cato up. The horse staggered a little as it adjusted to the additional weight. Once Cato had tucked an arm around his waist, Sempronius clicked his tongue and walked the horse back down the track towards the road. As they emerged from the pine trees, Cato glanced in the direction of the fire he had seen the previous night, but there was nothing more than a blackened shell remaining. Several other burned-out buildings dotted the surrounding landscape, and a column of distant figures picked its way across a field. Whether they were slaves or civilians, Cato could not tell. The road ahead of them was clear, and Sempronius turned the horse towards Gortyna once again and proceeded at a steady trot.

They sighted several more bands of people as the sun rose and bathed the province in a warm glow. Along the road they also encountered a few more survivors picking over the remains of their property as they looked for valuables. Some just sat and stared vacantly as the horse rode by, while others held out their hands and begged for food. Sempronius did his best to ignore them as he stared ahead and kicked his heels in to move on as swiftly as possible. Now and again they came across bodies bearing sword and knife wounds, adding yet more death to the number of those killed by the earthquake. As the morning wore on, Cato wondered if there was anything that the senator and he could do to help restore order to the province in the face of such destruction and loss of life. The task looked quite hopeless.

At last, shortly before midday, the road curved round a hill and there ahead of them lay the provincial capital of Gortyna. The city spread across the plain with a fortified acropolis on a hill to the north.

The wall was pierced by gaps where sections had collapsed. There were still some sentries on the main gate where the road entered the city. Beyond the wall they could see that nearly all the roofs had been damaged and there were gaping holes amid the red tiles of the largest public buildings and temples that remained standing. To one side of the city stood a sprawl of tents and makeshift shelters where smoke from small cooking fires trailed up into the blue sky.

Sempronius had raised a hand to shade his eyes as they approached the city. 'Seems to be less damage than we saw at Matala.'

'There would be. The people here did not have to cope with the wave as well. A small mercy perhaps.'

The sentries at the gate stirred warily as the two men on horseback clopped along the paved road towards the gate. When the horse was no more than fifty feet away their leader raised his arm and called out. 'That's close enough. What is your business here?'

Sempronius held out the hand with his ring. 'I am Senator Lucius Sempronius, come to see the governor of the province.'

The sentry leaned to one side and pointed at Cato. 'Who's that?'

'Centurion Cato. We were travelling to Rome by ship when the wave struck.'

'Wave?'The sentry approached cautiously as Sempronius reined in a short distance from the gate. 'We've heard that a wave had struck the coast, sir, but the stories we've been hearing are, well, a bit wild.

Entire ports and coastal villages destroyed.'

'It's true,' Sempronius replied. 'We landed at Matala, what's left of it. That's where we learned that the governor was injured. I've come to see what the situation is.'

'It's bad enough, sir. There's hardly an officer left in the garrison; most of them were at the governor's palace when the earthquake struck. Only a handful of his guests escaped from the banquet hall when the ro of fell in and buried the rest.'

'Where is the governor?'

'He's at the palace stables, sir. The stables survived well enough to be used as a hospital. That's where we've been taking the injured.'

Sempronius paused a moment. 'What's his condition?'

The sentry pursed his lips.' The official word is that he'll recover.'

'But?'

The sentry glanced round and then lowered his voice. 'That's not what my mate in the palace guard says. If you want to speak to the governor, you'd best do it quickly, sir.'

'Very well, let us pass.'

The sentry nodded and turned to call to his men.' Open the gate!'

There was a deep groan as the men thrust against the timbers of the right-hand door and it began to open. The groan changed into a grating sound and then a shrill squeal before it came to rest and would not budge any further. There was a gap just wide enough for the horse to pass through and the sentry shrugged apologetically.

'Sorry, sir, but the masonry has shifted and that's as far as she'll move.'

Sempronius nodded his thanks and edged the horse through the gap. Inside the city was the familiar panorama of shattered buildings and rubble strewn across the paved main street. There were more people amid the ruins and damaged buildings than there had been at Matala, and for the first time Cato began to feel a small measure of hope. Some settlements had evidently not been as badly affected as he had feared, but then, he mused, Matala had prepared him for the worst. The horse picked its way along the main street towards the heart of the city, past a marketplace where scores of stalls had collapsed and their ruined wares lay strewn about them, picked over by survivors. As they approached the centre of the city, the large civic buildings crowded the street on either side, and where they had collapsed Cato saw that great columns of stone had toppled like skittles, their sections laying scattered across the street and the steps leading up to where the temple doors had stood.

The governor's palace stood at the very centre of Gortyna, on the intersection of the two main streets. There was a tall outer wall, pierced by an impressive double-arched gatehouse, and inside a vast paved courtyard opened up on the other side. The palace, a fine building of white stone, looked as if it had been mauled by siege engines. There were great gaps in the walls and only a few expanses of tiles gave any indication of the original lines of the roof.

Sempronius sucked in his breath. 'It's a wonder anyone survived that.'

'Yes,' Cato muttered. 'That looks like the stables over there.'

He pointed to a narrow walled yard to one side of the main building-A small crowd stood or squatted outside, some holding infants or supporting others as they waited to be seen. Two army medics in black tunics were assessing the patients and admitting only those with the worst injuries. It was clear that the mood of the crowd was sullen, and Cato heard angry grumbling as they approached the stables.

'Make way there!' Sempronius called out. 'Make way, I said!'

The crowd parted in front of the horse and the expressions of those closest hardened as they stared up at the riders.

'The young 'un's wounded,' an old man growled. 'See there, on his leg.'

'Bastard's jumping the queue,' another voice called out, and at once there was an angry murmur sweeping through the crowd, and those still ahead of Sempronius refused to give way.

'Take your turn like the rest of us!'

Sempronius glared in the direction of the last shout. 'I am a Roman senator, damn you! Now do as you are told and move aside.'

'Fuck you!'

'One rule for the rich, another for the poor!' another man shouted.

'That's right!' Sempronius shouted. 'That's how it is. Now clear a path before I clear it for you!' He drew his sword to emphasise his words and dared anyone in the crowd to defy him. The people glared back, but as Sempronius kicked his heels in to move the horse on, they parted before him.

As he reached the arch and passed through into the courtyard, a man raised his fist and cried out, ' Bloody aristocrats! Our people die out here and they look after their own!'

The anger was taken up in other shouts and bitter cries, but Sempronius kept his face fixed in an expression of haughty contempt as he walked the horse up to a rail and slipped from the saddle to tether it. Cato dismounted beside him, wincing as a shaft of pain shot through his leg. He clasped a hand to his thigh as he looked round and saw a man in a dark tunic with red trim on the sleeves emerge from one of the stalls.

The man gestured towards Cato's leg. 'I'll have a look at that.' He wiped some blood off his hands with a soiled rag as he approached the new arrivals.

'Romans?'

Cato nodded.

The surgeon pointed at Cato's bandaged thigh.' How did that happen?'

'We ran into some escaped slaves. One of them stuck me with a pitchfork.'

'Nasty. I'd better see to it.'

'Later. We need to speak to the governor.' Cato gestured to Sempronius. 'We have urgent business with him.'

'So does everyone.' The surgeon laughed mirthlessly. 'But he's in no condition to see anyone right now, poor devil.'

'That's too bad,' said Sempronius. 'I must insist that he sees us. Immediately'

The surgeon shook his head. 'I can't let you disturb my patient.

You'd better go and see Marcus Glabius if you want to know what's going on.'

'Who?'

'Glabius is in charge now. He persuaded the governor to appoint him as his successor yesterday'

'What office did this Glabius hold before?' asked Cato. 'Civil administration? Military?'

'Neither. He was one of the province's tax collectors.'

'A tax collector?' Sempronius could not hide his disgust. Why on earth did Hirtius hand power over to a bloody tax collector? Surely there must have been an official on his staff he could have turned to?'

'No, they were all at the banquet when it happened. For some reason Glabius was late arriving. Otherwise… 'The surgeon wearily ran a hand through his hair. 'In any case, they're close friends and business associates. Do I need to spell it out for you?'

Cato could guess the arrangement easily enough. Governor Hirtius sold the tax concession to Glabius for a knock — down price.

In exchange, the two of them had a private arrangement whereby Hirtius quietly pocketed a percentage of the tax squeezed out of the islanders and any merchants who paid duties on cargoes leaving or arriving in Crete. A common arrangement throughout the empire, and one of the means by which provincial governors amassed a fortune during their term in office. It was an illegal practice, but since provincial governors accused of malpractice had the comfortable prospect of being tried before their peers, and those who aspired to be governors in turn, there was little prospect of prosecution. That said, governors had to be careful not to exact too much from a province lest their wealth provoke a dangerous degree of interest from the emperor. It was not unknown for an emperor to dispose of a wealthy Roman in order to confiscate his property.

'Just take us to the governor,' Sempronius said firmly.' Right now '

'If that is your wish.' The surgeon bowed his head. 'This way, sir.'

With Sempronius offering support to Cato, they followed the surgeon down the line of stables until they reached a large tack room at the end. It had been cleared out and a couch lay against the far wall. A man lay on the mattress. He was still, apart from the steady rise and fall of his chest. His breath came in laboured rasps. They crossed the room and Sempronius indicated a simple bench against one of the other walls and spoke to the surgeon. 'Give me a hand with that.'

As they dragged it over towards the couch, Governor Hirtius turned his head to the side to observe them. By the light of a small window high up on the wall Cato could see that one side of his face was heavily bandaged. A loose sheet lay across his body and covered his legs. Once Sempronius and Cato had settled on the bench, the surgeon stood by the couch and drew the sheet down to the governor's waist. His chest was bare and the pale skin was covered with black and purple bruising down his right side. Beneath the discoloured flesh the bones and muscle appeared to Cato to be misshapen. The arm had been broken and was fixed in a splint.

Sempronius leaned forward and spoke in a comforting tone.

'Greetings, Aulus Hirtius. We've met once or twice before, at the senate back in Rome.'

The governor licked his lips and nodded faintly before whispering hoarsely,'Lucius Sempronius… I remember…What are you doing here?'

'I've come to take charge of the province.'

Hirtius's eyes widened and he made to raise his head as he responded sharply, ' Who sent you?'

The slight effort caused a sudden spasm of agony to course through the governor's body and he fell back with a keening groan as he gritted his teeth. The surgeon leaned over his patient anxiously.

'Lie still, sir. You must lie still.'

Sempronius waited until the tension left the governor's body and he was breathing more easily. Then he spoke again.

'No one sent me. My ship was passing the island when the earthquake struck. I learned that you had been injured, my friend, and came to offer my services. Now that I see you, it is clear that you'll need time to recover. As the ranking official in the province I should take charge, until you are ready to resume your duties.'

'No need… I have already found someone.'

'So I understand. But Hirtius, I cannot allow a tax collector to take on such a responsibility. They are corrupt dogs at the best of times. We cannot let such a man govern Crete.'

Hirtius struggled to raise a hand in protest. Sempronius took it and patted it gently. 'There's no need to worry now that I'm here. Your province is in safe hands. I swear it, on my honour.'

'No…' Hirtius slumped back with a deep groan, face muscles clenched as he fought a wave of agony. At length his body relaxed and beads of sweat trickled from his brow. His breathing was ragged as he stared at the ceiling and muttered, ' My wife, has she been found yet?'

'Wife?' The senator turned to the doctor and whispered,

'What's this?'

'Antonia. Apparently she left the feast shortly before the earthquake. Hasn't been seen since. But we're still finding bodies in the rubble. I fear it's only a matter of time before we find hers.'

'I see.' Sempronius gazed at the stricken governor for a moment and then turned to the surgeon. 'I'll leave him in your hands. Do your best for him.'

'Of course, sir.'

The senator lowered his voice. 'A brief word with you, if I may?'

He rose from the bench, gesturing to the others to follow him. At the do or he paused and spoke softly to the surgeon. 'Will Hirtius live?'

'I'm doing what I can for him. With enough time, he might recover-'

'Spare me the bedside manner. Will he live? Yes, or no.'

The surgeon licked his lips and then shook his head. 'Both legs are crushed. He has internal injuries, crushed ribs and organs. I doubt that he will last more than a few days.'

'I see. Well, do what you can to make him comfortable then.'

The surgeon nodded.

Cato looked towards the couch.' One other thing. Hirtius is to have no more visitors. Isn't that right, sir?'

'Yes,' Sempronius agreed.' Of course. That is my strict order.'

'Not even Glabius?' asked the surgeon.

'Him especially, understand? He is not to disturb the governor. As far as everyone is concerned, Hirtius is glad that I have arrived to take charge. He has confidence in me and has granted me full powers over the province, until he has recovered or a replacement is sent from Rome. That's our story, and you will stick to it. Is that clear?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Good, then I want you to examine the centurion's wound. Clean it up and put on a fresh dressing. I need him as ready as he can be when I go to relieve Glabius of his temporary appointment.'