Spartacus let the Scythians come right up to Carbo’s back before he lifted a hand. ‘What then?’
Carbo wiped away the sweat that had sprung out on his brow. Gods, why didn’t we do just as he said? ‘The Romans suspect that you’re going to leave Italy.’
‘That’s not surprising given the route we’ve taken so far,’ said Spartacus dryly. ‘Why do you mention it?’
Carbo checked that that the Gauls were well out of earshot. The Scythians had Spartacus’ trust, so their presence didn’t matter. ‘They also said that Marcus Lucullus has inflicted a recent heavy defeat on Thracian troops who’d been fighting for Mithridates. He’s now continuing his campaign into Thrace.’
Spartacus spat an oath. ‘You overheard exactly that?’
‘Yes.’
‘What else did they say?’
‘Nothing. I’m sorry.’
Spartacus’ eyes probed his for a long moment. ‘I’m grateful to you. You did well not to reveal that to the Gauls. Why did you not?’
‘I’m not sure,’ replied Carbo truthfully. He remembered how quarrelsome the Gauls had been. ‘Maybe it was because I suspected that they would use it as an excuse not to leave Italy.’
‘You are shrewd. I sometimes wonder if they have ever intended to do so, but news like that would set their minds in stone.’
‘Will you leave still?’
‘Of course. With every man who’ll follow me,’ said Spartacus with a confidence he was not sure he truly felt. ‘It makes sense to do so. Three large-scale defeats mean nothing to the Romans. They have a bottomless pool of men to replenish their legions. At least in Thrace I would be on my own territory, among my own people. It won’t take much to unite them and start another uprising.’ Let that be true, Great Rider.
Carbo nodded, feeling reassured. Despite the roasting he’d just been given, his memories of how Spartacus had saved him in the ludus, and of how he’d intervened to save Chloris, were always in his mind. He’d follow the Thracian anywhere. To hell. To Thrace. It didn’t matter.
‘Go on, be off with you. Get some food in your belly and have a rest. You’ve earned it.’
Carbo grinned at the change in Spartacus’ tone. ‘If I’m not to take part in the attack on the ballistae, I might go hunting this afternoon.’
‘Fine. One more thing.’
‘Yes?’
‘Not a word to a soul about Lucullus. Tell Navio to keep his mouth shut too,’ Spartacus warned. ‘On pain of death.’
‘Of course,’ said Carbo, his heart thudding again. He walked off, unaware that he had added a mountain to Spartacus’ concerns.
Sending Atheas to fetch his cavalry commanders, Spartacus sat for a while in silence. Ariadne was not in their tent. For that, he was grateful. He wanted to think about the shocking news before having to talk it over with her. There was no way of knowing if the report of Lucullus’ victory was true, but he had to assume that it was. Why would a legionary make up something like that? It wasn’t as if the Thracians hadn’t been beaten by Rome before. It’s only a setback; we Thracians have inflicted plenty of humiliating defeats on the bastards too, he thought, remembering with satisfaction his own tribe’s stunning victory over Appius Claudius Pulcher, the proconsul of Macedonia, five years earlier. Deep down, however, Spartacus knew that the task he had set himself once they reached Thrace had just been made much harder. Was it even possible? Don’t think like that!
‘You’re in a different world. I can never usually get this close without you noticing.’
Ariadne’s voice dragged him back to reality. He smiled, burying the news of Lucullus. ‘It was a good idea to send Carbo and Navio to Mutina.’
Ariadne stiffened. ‘They’re back?’
‘Yes. Longinus has set a trap on the road north. His ballistae are hidden away, but ranged in so that they could rain down volleys on the army as it marched past. A perfect ambush.’
‘Damn Romans,’ said Ariadne angrily. ‘What will you do?’
‘Pinpoint the artillery’s exact location. Then the Gauls will destroy it tonight.’ He saw Ariadne’s surprise. ‘They were outraged that I had sent spies to Mutina without telling them. Letting them have this mission was a gesture to bring them around, but they’ll do a good job. Gannicus in particular is like a hound on a tight leash. We’ll march in the morning. Catch Longinus before he has had a chance to react.’
‘He only has two legions.’ Ariadne wanted to hear the small figure again. ‘We have more than fifty thousand men.’
‘That’s right, my love. We will win, have no fear.’
‘I know.’ Unconsciously, she placed a hand on her belly. ‘Our son will be born outside Italy.’
He put his arms around her to shove away the uncertainty that had flared up again in his mind. ‘I cannot wait to hold him.’
She gave him a fond glance, and saw something in his expression. ‘What are you not telling me?’
He didn’t answer.
‘Spartacus? What is it?’
His eyes regarded her steadily. ‘I’m not going to say right now. I need to think about it.’
A knot of fear clenched in her stomach. ‘Is there Roman another army nearby?’
‘It’s nothing like that.’
She searched his face for a clue.
‘Leave it, Ariadne. You will find out in due course.’
She didn’t like the fact that he wasn’t being open with her, but she did not probe further. This was no time to sow discord. There were ballistae to destroy and after that, another Roman army to defeat. She cast a longing look to the north, towards the Alps. When we stand at their foot, everything will seem much clearer. We will head eastwards. She did not want to entertain any other possibility. This hope was what had sustained her in the months since their breakout from the ludus. Yet Spartacus’ reticence had planted a seed of doubt in her mind.
Ariadne decided to seek Dionysus’ aid. It was not in the nature of any deity to answer requests directly, but it did happen on occasion. Her spirits rallied at the memory of the time they had been trapped at the top of Vesuvius by three thousand legionaries. In their hour of greatest need, Dionysus had shown Spartacus the wild vines that could be used to make ropes. Maybe he would help again now? While their situation was nowhere near as desperate as before, Ariadne felt in need of the peace of mind that divine guidance would grant. A welcome calm descended over her.
It lasted for a few heartbeats. Then, like a sting in the tail, Ariadne thought of the munus that Spartacus had held. Had it been too bloody? As if that wasn’t enough to be worried about, she agonised over the occasion at Thurii when she had lied about the god’s will. She had told the entire army that Dionysus had sent her a dream in which they were to travel to the east under his protection, to lands that were unconquered by Rome. Ariadne had admitted her falsehood to no one, not even her husband. I did it for good reasons, she thought. To prevent Crixus trying to kill Spartacus. To win the troops over, and to stop them from splintering into many factions. Her inner demon answered at once. It doesn’t matter why you did it. To suit your own purpose, you pretended to speak with a divine voice. That shows a deep disrespect for the god.
Her guilt swelled immeasurably. ‘I must go and pray,’ she said in a tight voice.
‘A good idea.’ Troubled, Spartacus watched her go.
By early afternoon, the cavalry he had sent out had returned. They had located the most likely spot for the Roman ballistae to be hidden. Some five miles from their camp was a hollow behind a slight incline that was bounded on two sides by a dense arrangement of trees. His horsemen had seen figures moving in the copse, but as instructed, they had not investigated further. To maintain as much secrecy as possible, Spartacus ordered them to say nothing to their comrades.
Gannicus and Castus had picked a thousand of their best men for the mission. As well as barrels of olive oil and torches, they had armed their troops with every axe that could be found. The two Gauls, Spartacus and the cavalry officer who’d led the patrol conferred as the sun fell in the sky. There were hours to go before the chosen soldiers left. To prevent them being seen by Roman scouts, the force would not move out until it was dark.