‘Lupus, you take the first watch. Give it two hours, as best you can judge it, and then wake Marcus so he can take over. I’ll take the last watch.’
Marcus looked at him anxiously. ‘How are you feeling now?’
‘Like I’ve been run down by a herd of elephants. It’s going to hurt like blazes tomorrow. Now let’s rest. Lupus, keep your eyes and ears open for any sign of danger. We can’t afford to let them catch us unawares.’
Lupus nodded. ‘You can rely on me.’
It was past midnight and Procrustes and most of his men were sitting down a short distance from the goats. They had been searching for the three interlopers who had caused such damage to his reputation among the people of Leuctra. The cheers they had given the Roman after he had knocked Procrustes to the ground still rang in his ears and he burned with humiliation and anger. Pain was something he had long since grown used to, and his bruises did not bother him as he thirsted for revenge. No one, but no one, got the better of Procrustes and lived to tell the tale.
Once he had recovered from his beating, the gang leader summoned his best six men and set off after the Roman and the two boys. It had been easy enough to discover they had left the town and taken the Athens road. The gang followed it for five miles before reaching a small village with an inn where a few customers were still drinking. They had seen no sign of the travellers Procrustes was after, so he turned back and explored the first half-mile or so of every path that led off the road. Just as his men began to tire of searching, muttering and grumbling among themselves, they came across the goats and the young boy who looked after them. Terrified to find himself surrounded by several large men in the depths of the night, he tried to make a run for it. He never made it out of the ring and was placed in front of Procrustes, his arms pinned behind his back.
‘Hold still, you little wretch,’ he growled. ‘Or I’ll tell my man to rip your arms off.’
The boy ceased struggling at once.
‘That’s better.’ Procrustes tried to soften his tone. ‘We ain’t going to hurt you. Not if you help us. But if you don’t do exactly what I say then someone’s going to find your body with your head caved in. Do I make myself clear?’
The boy nodded vigorously.
‘I can’t hear you, lad. Now tell me, are you going to do what I want?’
‘Y-yes, sir,’ the boy whimpered.
‘That’s better. Now then, how long have you been resting here?’
‘From late yesterday afternoon, sir.’
‘Excellent. So then you’d remember if anyone came up this path since then.’
The boy nodded.
‘Again, I can’t hear you. Speak up.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Did you see anyone?’
‘Yes, sir. Three of them. A man and two boys. Just as it was getting dark.’
‘It’s them all right!’ One of the thugs chuckled.
Procrustes snapped his head round towards the man. ‘Shut it, you!’
‘Sorry, boss.’
He turned back to the boy. ‘Where did they go?’
The goatherd pointed up the path towards the forest. ‘In the trees. And that’s where they still are, as far as I know.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I saw the glow of a fire a while back, sir. I was curious. I heard that brigands had been spotted in the mountains and wanted to make sure my flock was safe. I went up to look and saw the three of them sitting around. Then I returned to the flock.’
One of his gang members muttered, ‘I don’t see any glow.’
Procrustes sighed. ‘That’s because they’ve probably let the fire die down, you fool. Anyway, I have to be sure they’re still there. Don’t want us all blundering through the trees and alerting them. You go. Take the boy with you. He can show you where he saw them. Then get back here and make your report. If they’re still there, we’ll surround ’em and give them a nasty surprise.’
That was a short while earlier and now Procrustes was sitting in silence, relishing the prospect of getting his revenge, thinking about the most painful and shameful agonies he could inflict on the Roman. Then they would retrieve the purse he had taken from Procrustes. After that, they would take the boys and their possessions and sell them at the market in Leuctra to make sure the townspeople understood the fate awaiting anyone who defied him.
A rattle of loose stones from the path broke into his reverie and he stood up as two shapes headed down the slope towards them — the boy and the man sent with him. The latter caught his breath before he made his report.
‘Just like the lad said, boss. They’re in a clearing, asleep round a fire. It’s burned right down so there’s not much light. But I could see ’em. All three of ’em. Asleep like innocent lambs.’
‘Lambs to the slaughter.’ Procrustes chuckled menacingly. ‘Right then, let’s get them.’ He paused by the goatherd and ruffled his hair. ‘Good job, lad. When you’ve got a few more years under your belt, come to Leuctra and look me up. Maybe I’ll have a place for you in my gang.’
He led his men up the path towards the trees. When they reached the fringe of the forest he stopped and turned to them. ‘I don’t want any of them to get away. So we don’t just pile in there. When we get close we’ll spread out round the clearing and surround them. When I give the word, charge in and we’ll wake the scum up. Make it nice and loud. Clear?’
The men nodded in silence and he waved them on. ‘Nice and quietly then.’
He led them slowly along the path, taking care not to tread on any fallen branches. Beneath the canopy of the trees it was almost completely dark and only the faintest of illumination from the stars penetrated the gloom to reveal the trees on either side. They had not gone far before Procrustes’ eyes detected a faint glow between the trees ahead.
‘Easy now, lads,’ he whispered as he proceeded step by step.
As they drew closer the glow intensified, casting a red wash over the nearest trees and the boulders scattered across the clearing. Then he saw the bright glitter of a small flame as the fire came into view. In the dim light cast by the fire he saw a figure on the ground, covered in a blanket. Close by was a second. Both seemed to be asleep. Which left one other. Procrustes carefully scanned the surrounding area and then smiled as he saw the last of them, propped up against one of the boulders, also apparently asleep. If he was supposed to keep watch while his comrades slumbered, then he was betraying their trust. They would all pay the price for his failure. Procrustes turned back to his men and indicated for them to go right and left. While they crept off into the shadows their leader stayed on the path to keep watch over their intended victims. Every so often he heard the faint rustle of a disturbed branch and waited for the lookout to stir. But there was no sign that his men had been detected and it seemed the lookout was fast asleep. He waited until he was certain that the last of his men would be in position and then drew his sword, gritting his teeth as it scraped free of the scabbard. Holding it out in front of him, Procrustes stood and made his way along the track towards the fire. When he reached the edge of the clearing the trees gave way on either side of the rocks scattered across the ground. The nearest of the Romans was only twenty feet ahead, a dark form against the glow of the dying fire.
Drawing a deep breath, Procrustes readied his weapon, then bellowed at the top of his voice. ‘Get ’em!’
His men took up the cry and surged in from the trees surrounding the clearing. As their leader raced up the path towards the fire he felt delirious with excitement that his plan was succeeding so well. Anticipating the satisfaction of killing Festus, he was just a few paces from the nearest of his victims when he heard one of his men cry out in pain. Then another, and he slowed his pace — but too late to stop himself stumbling into the concealed ditch that stretched across the path. A sharp, agonizing pain shot through his foot. With a deep groan, he plucked his foot out of the trench and stumbled on, consumed by his desire for revenge. More cries of surprise and pain came from the fringes of the clearing as he blundered on, right up to the nearest of the sleeping Romans, to deliver a vicious kick. The blanket slid to the ground, revealing a leather bag and some small pine branches carefully heaped in the shape of a reclining body.