‘Stratos, then.’ Festus broke into his bitter thoughts. ‘That’s where we’re headed. We’ll try the slave market like you suggest, and see if anyone has information. We’d better make plans for the night and set off early in the morning. We thank you, Andreas. For your help. And the drink.’
‘You’re welcome. And thank you for the lesson. I’ll think twice before I step up to fight any strangers passing through Chalcis again.’ He drained his cup and peered into the jug, frowning when he saw that it was empty. ‘Then I’ll leave you to discover what pleasures the port has to offer.’
He rose from the bench and belched loudly before turning to Marcus. ‘Good luck, lad. I hope you find what you are looking for.’
Marcus nodded his thanks and the Greek turned away, heading down a narrow alley towards the sunlit street that led back into the heart of the town. When he was gone Festus shook his head.
‘I think it will be harder to find our man than we thought.’
‘But we must find Decimus!’ Marcus said urgently. ‘We need to find out exactly where he sent my mother.’
‘We know she’s somewhere in the Peloponnese,’ Lupus intervened. ‘At an estate owned by Decimus. Perhaps it would be better if we started there.’
‘Lupus is right.’ Festus nodded. ‘It makes more sense.’
‘No,’ Marcus responded firmly. ‘We stick to my plan. We find Decimus and force him to tell us where he is keeping my mother, then we rescue her.’
Lupus pursed his lips. ‘Why bother with Decimus? We’ve got just as much chance of finding the estate as we have of finding him. More, in fact, since estates are not in the habit of travelling around, as Decimus seems to be.’
His attempt at lightening the mood fell flat and Lupus folded his hands together and puffed his cheeks. ‘Just saying …’
There was a brief silence as they looked out to sea. In the distance, across the blue water dotted with the square sails of merchant ships and the smaller triangular sails of fishing boats, lay the northern coast of the Peloponnese. The region’s mountains towered up, grey and daunting in the distance. Somewhere in that direction lay his mother, and Marcus found it hard to be heading in the opposite direction for the present. But he had to pick up Decimus’s trail first if he was to be led directly to his mother, he told himself.
‘We could spend months searching the Peloponnese,’ Marcus said quietly. ‘We can’t afford to waste any time. If Decimus hears we’ve been snooping around estates in the area, then he’ll have my mother killed to destroy the evidence of his crime. We need to be careful and take one step at a time. First, we track down Decimus. That’s my decision.’
‘Your decision?’ Festus cocked an eyebrow. ‘We’re all in this together, Marcus.’
Marcus turned to face him as he replied firmly, ‘Caesar sent you to help me. Both of you. So we’ll stick with my plan.’
Festus and Lupus looked at him for a moment before Festus raised a hand and ran his fingers through his cropped hair.
‘As you wish, Marcus. But I can’t help feeling that this is all as much about finding Decimus as it is about finding your mother.’
‘We need to find him first in order to find her, like I said.’
‘Perhaps. But if I were you, Marcus, I’d search my heart and ask myself a question. Which is more important — revenge, or rescue?’
Festus did not wait for a response but stood up and stretched, then grimaced and gently rubbed his ribs where Andreas had struck him with the staff. ‘We need to find a place for the night. Then get a good meal, a decent sleep and be up and on the road to Stratos at first light. We’ll get some miles under our belts before it’s too hot. Then rest until the afternoon before we continue. Come on, let’s move.’
Lupus stood first, and then Marcus, after a brief hesitation. They picked up their packs and headed back down the hill into the town. Festus led the way, then Lupus, while Marcus brought up the rear. None of them talked and that suited Marcus. He was thinking about what Festus had said. Was he driven more by the desire for revenge on Decimus, than by the desire to save his mother?
No! he thought instinctively … But then, the more he considered it, the more the burden of all the suffering that he had endured came trickling into his mind. The loss of his home. His dog, Cerberus, who had died defending him. Titus, who had raised and loved him as his own son. Then there had been the pain and hardship of the gladiator school where he had been branded on the chest with the mark of its owner. He raised his spare hand to touch his tunic above the scar, recalling the sickening agony of the heated iron pressed into his flesh. After that had been the terror of the fight in the arena of the school against two wolves. And later the fight to the death with the Celtic boy-gladiator Ferax in the Forum in Rome. All of which had scarred Marcus’s young mind. And all because of Decimus.
Getting revenge on Decimus was the only way he could see to remove the burden of all he had suffered. Another boy might have been driven mad by what had happened, Marcus reflected. The only thing that kept him sane was the thought of saving his mother. But he could not do one thing without the other. Revenge and rescue. The bitter truth was that he needed them both.
4
‘Is that him?’
Lupus raised his hand and pointed across the street as a figure emerged from the gate. Through the opening Marcus could just make out the large yard beyond and the bars of some of the holding cells, before the guard closed the gate and slid the bolt across. Marcus switched his gaze to the fat man who had come out of the small prison where the slaves were held before auctions. His mind went back to the time when he had been in a cart that had passed through those same gates. He and his mother had been huddled in the bottom of a cage, sitting on soiled straw. The auctioneer had come out to inspect them. He was the kind of man that made an impression for all the wrong reasons. Overweight, sweaty and cruel.
‘Yes, that’s him all right.’
Festus nodded. ‘Then we need to prepare. Lupus, you follow him and find out where he lives. Then come and find us back at the inn. Understand?’
Lupus frowned. ‘I’m not an idiot.’
‘I know that. But you don’t have anything to prove to me. I don’t want any heroics.’ He tapped the boy on the chest. ‘Just play safe.’
‘I know what I have to do.’
‘Good.’ Festus glanced up and saw that the auctioneer had turned the corner and was struggling to get round a woman carrying two large baskets from a yoke across her shoulders. ‘Then get after him, before you lose sight of the man.’
Lupus dashed across the street, dodging a pile of donkey manure that had fallen from the back of a cart, and closed in on his quarry. Marcus watched him with a slight shake of the head.
‘He’s not used to this kind of work. I hope he doesn’t give himself away. You should have let me do it.’
‘Too much of a risk,’ Festus replied. ‘You recognized him quickly enough. Who is to say he couldn’t do the same?’
‘But there are slaves passing through his cells all the time. Hundreds, thousands maybe. I’m sure he wouldn’t remember me.’
Festus pursed his lips. ‘Maybe, but why take the risk? Lupus will do all right. He’s smart, even if he’s not much use in a fight. And that we need to remedy as soon as possible.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s time we taught our young friend that the sword is mightier than the pen.’ Festus smiled. ‘While we’re tracking down your mother, and Decimus, we’ll teach Lupus how to use a few weapons, and try to get him in shape. I’ve a feeling we’ll need all the muscle we can get before this is over.’