The optio considered the guard’s words for a moment before tightening his gaze at the sealed door. ‘If Bato is planning a new career in brigandage, he needs men — and plenty of them. There’d be no point in escaping with only a handful of gladiators. That’s why he ambushed us rather than flee the ludus immediately. He needed the keys to the dormitory block in order to release all his mates. Someone was kind enough to let him get his hands on them.’
Macro turned to look at Macer as he spoke and he saw the commander slipping away from the crowd in the middle of the room towards the door. Anger surged in Macro’s heart and he leapt towards the man and clamped his hand round his wrist.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Macer yelped. He tried wrenching his wrist free of Macro’s firm grip. ‘Release me at once! I wish to leave. I have no desire to die because of your foolishness.’
‘You’re going nowhere,’ Macro snapped. ‘Everyone is to stay here until the rebels have been crushed.’ Even in the dim glow of the candles, the expression on his face must have been visible to Macer, because he shifted awkwardly on his feet and swallowed hard.
‘This is all your fault,’ he said waspishly.
‘That’s rich, coming from the coward who dropped the keys to the cells.’
Macer narrowed his eyes at Macro until they were slits as thin as his lips. ‘Your stubbornness has led us down a path of destruction, Optio. I warned you that Bato commands a loyal following. I implored you not to aggravate the man. Corvus at least heeded my advice. He knew it was best to keep Bato under control with the odd indulgence. If only you had listened to me, none of this would have happened.’
‘I was doing my job. It’s not my fault you let Bato have the run of the place.’
‘I’m sick of being lectured by a common soldier,’ Macer sneered. ‘You may have been decorated by the Emperor, but I served in the Praetorian Guard. I don’t have to listen to your tirade, Macro.’
‘You’re a failed Praetorian. Worse, you’re a fucking disgrace.’
Macer stiffened. ‘Several of my men are dead. The blame for that lies squarely with you. Thanks to your incompetence and your refusal to heed my repeated warnings, a dozen or more gladiators are also dead — each worth thousands of sestertii, I might add, and the personal property of his imperial majesty. I shall write this incident up and present my report to Pallas at the first opportunity.’
‘By all means. Then I’ll explain to Pallas how you ran away and left your men to fend for themselves. Even those sly Greeks take a pretty dim view of cowardice.’
Macer pressed his lips together.
‘Glabrio!’ Macro yelled.
‘Sir?’ the guard answered.
‘Take this man down to the basement and chain him up.’
The guard approached Macer and seized his upper arm.
‘You can’t do this!’ the officer protested.
‘I already am.’ Macro raised his sword and pointed the tip at Macer’s soft chin, drawing a panicked look from the commander. ‘Now don’t make any noise down there. I don’t want to have to come down and convince you to shut up.’
Glabrio bundled Macer towards the steps leading down to the cellar. ‘You’ll pay for this, Optio, I swear!’
Macro watched the commander depart. Beside him Bassus clicked his tongue.
‘What’s the plan now, sir?’
Macro pursed his lips as he considered his options. ‘We’re low on numbers. Apart from the guards, we’ve only got a bunch of orderlies and household slaves, and none of them has a hope in Hades of wielding a sword. We’re no match for our enemy. The odds don’t favour us.’
He felt a leaden weight descend on his shoulders. Taking a deep breath, he thought for a moment before continuing.
‘We can only hope to crush the rebellion by regaining control of the ludus. The main entrance is reasonably secure. Even if Bato and his men manage to lever up the portcullis, that outer door won’t budge. But sooner or later the gladiators will figure out that they can break through this door without any great difficulty. Then the lot of us are done for.’
‘So what are we waiting for?’ Bassus said. ‘Let’s take the fight to ’em, sir!’
Macro shook his head bitterly. ‘As I said, we don’t have the numbers to take the dormitory by force. There are about a hundred remaining gladiators versus only a few of us. As things stand, we have no way of retaking the ludus. The best we can hope to achieve is to contain the gladiators within these walls. But that’s a temporary measure. It’s only a matter of time before Bato forces the issue and attacks us with everything he’s got. We’d be able to hold out for a short while, but sooner or later that Thracian pig and his men would overrun us.’
‘What about asking the nearest ludus for help?’ Bassus enquired.
Macro grimaced in frustration. ‘I’ve thought about that already. But it’s a non-starter. The closest one is half a day’s travel. It’s too far. By the time any reinforcements arrived, Bato would have barged his way through here and left us all for dead.’
‘So that’s it, sir? We’re done for?’ Pavo asked softly.
‘Not necessarily,’ Macro answered tersely. He turned to Pavo. There was a glint in his eye as he smiled at the badly bruised gladiator. ‘You’re forgetting that the Emperor is en route to Capua from Puteoli.’
Pavo nodded. ‘Murena mentioned it at our meeting last week. Told me the old fool wants to cast his eye over the imperial gladiators ahead of next month’s games.’
‘The Emperor travels with a large retinue. Pallas will be with him, of course. And the other freedmen Claudius insists on surrounding himself with.’ Macro flashed a wide grin at Pavo. ‘But more importantly, he’ll be accompanied by his German guards.’
Pavo slapped his hand against his thigh. ‘By the gods, you’re right! I’ve seen the Germans at the imperial palace. There’s got to be at least two hundred of them in Claudius’s personal bodyguard. Even with half their number, we could soon put an end to Bato and his rebellion.’
‘The Emperor was due to arrive in Capua today, if I remember correctly.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Pavo answered eagerly. ‘At a villa on the hills above Capua. I’ve been there. It’s not far by foot. If we send a messenger now, the Germans could reach us by nightfall, sir.’ He paused, his brow furrowed. ‘But what if Murena refuses to come to our rescue? Knowing that Greek snake, nothing would please him more than to see the pair of us get slaughtered by a mob of rabid Thracians.’
Macro shook his head. ‘He’s not in a position to refuse to help us, lad. This is the imperial ludus, the property of the Emperor. Once Murena gets word of the rebellion, he’ll shit himself at the thought of the gladiators tearing the place down. That conniving Greek and his master Pallas will have no choice but to send out a full complement of Germans. Then we can take back the ludus.’ Macro’s expression suddenly soured. ‘The only downside is it means having to grovel to Murena. He and Pallas will bloody love it. They’ll have me by the balls. I’ll be indebted to both of them. Worse, they might very well blame me for the rebellion in the first place.’
‘There is no other way, sir,’ Bassus said, throwing his arms into the air in exasperation. ‘You said so yourself. The private ludi are all too far away. Murena is close by. He’s the only chance we have to save this place … and ourselves. Besides, if you don’t ask him for help and Bato’s men overrun us, the Emperor will demand your head for losing his gladiators and his ludus.’
‘Saved by a couple of Greeks.’ Macro shook his head. The thought rankled.
‘We don’t have any choice.’
Macro bit his tongue as he wrestled with the dilemma. Begging for help from the aide to the imperial secretary offended his principles. He was a resourceful soldier, with a proud record of overcoming desperate odds on the field of battle. But even he could see no way out of their predicament without calling on outside support. Swallowing his pride, he thumped his fist on the desk.
‘Bollocks!’ He swung his gaze towards the door as Glabrio returned from the cellar. ‘Glabrio!’