A multitude of voices answered in assent.
‘Good,’ barked Caepio. ‘I venture that there are not a few of Sulla’s veterans also here. Men who gave loyal service and who were rewarded with money and a plot of land upon their discharge. Am I right?’
‘You are!’
‘We salute you, Gnaeus Servilius Caepio!’
Cries rang out all over the Forum.
‘It’s good that you’ve come here today, because you too can help the Republic in its hour of need. Your bodies might have grown old, but your hearts are still those of soldiers, eh?’ Caepio smiled at the roars that met this remark. ‘I’d wager that there are plenty of you who hunger for the feel of a gladius in your hand again. Who would give up your farms for a season or two just to stand in a shield wall with your comrades once more. Who would shed their blood to see Spartacus and his raggle-taggle army sent to Hades! Am I right?’
The mob off to Carbo’s left swayed and then parted as a group of hard-bitten veterans shoved their way forward into the small amount of space before the platform. ‘We’re with you, Caepio,’ cried the lead man. ‘Every one of us!’
A chorus of shouts rang out — two here, another one there, three further away — pledging their support.
‘Well done, lads. Sulla would be proud of you,’ declared Caepio. He scanned the entire crowd. ‘As you know, this is not the place to join the army. I want every man who’s going to volunteer to make his way to the Campus Martius. You know where it is! The recruiting officers are already there, waiting for you to come and sign up. As a gesture of gratitude for your courage, Crassus has authorised an advance of ten denarii to every man who signs his name on the line today.’
Whoops of joy met this announcement, and there was an immediate surge towards the streets that led north out of the city.
Looking satisfied, Caepio stood back.
‘Well done, centurion,’ said Crassus. ‘Our job — in Rome at least — is done.’
But mine is not. Spartacus watched Crassus intently. What will he do? Speak with some of the senators? Wait until the Forum has emptied? If his enemy didn’t move soon, they would have to walk away. The crowd around them was thinning fast. Before long, they would stand out like sore thumbs.
‘Where do you want to go now? The Campus Martius? That’s where I’d go if I were old enough,’ said Tulla, waving her arms back and forth as if she were marching, ‘and I was a boy,’ she added ruefully.
‘Not there,’ said Carbo, who was also eyeing Crassus. He had his lie ready. ‘I would join up, but I’m an only son. I have to help run the farm.’
‘That’s not much of an excuse,’ said Tulla in an accusing tone.
Stung despite himself, Carbo gave her a smart clip behind the ear. ‘Watch your mouth! My time in the army will come. Just not right now.’
With a sulky look, Tulla retreated out of range.
Quickly, Carbo bent as if to tighten one of his sandal straps. ‘What do you think?’ he hissed. ‘Do we make a move?’
Spartacus sized up the situation. Crassus was deep in conversation with Caepio. He wasn’t going anywhere fast. ‘Let’s go towards the Basilica Aemilia. Hang around the entrance and see what he does.’
‘I’m thirsty,’ said Carbo, straightening. He eyed Tulla. ‘Is there any room for wine sellers among the lawyers and scribes in the basilicae?’
‘There are a few,’ came the sullen reply. The girl’s face changed as Carbo flipped three asses into the air.
‘Go and buy a cup of some decent stuff. Falernian or Campanian. We’ll be waiting by the door nearest the Curia.’
‘Yes, sir!’ Tulla spun on her heel, the coins gripped tight in her grubby fist.
‘You’d better come back,’ Carbo called. ‘I expect some change!’
‘Don’t worry. I want the rest of my denarius!’ With that, Tulla vanished into the crowd.
Chapter IX
Carbo ambled towards the nearest door of the basilica; Spartacus followed. Placing his back against the wall, Carbo cast an idle eye about, in the manner of a man who has nothing particular on his mind. Crassus was still talking to Caepio, although he’d come down a couple of steps.
‘I fancy a few cups of wine, not just the one,’ Carbo said loudly. ‘The excitement’s over as well. After this, I think we’ll head back to the Elysian Fields.’
‘Yes, master,’ replied Spartacus.
‘Want to see the future, good sir?’
Carbo turned. A man of indeterminate age in a grubby robe stood before him. The blunt-peaked leather cap on his head and his obsequious manner told him what he already knew. ‘You’re a haruspex.’
‘That’s right, sir. Place a denarius on my palm and I’ll endeavour to see what the gods have in store for you.’
Ten legions are coming my way. ‘Piss off,’ Carbo said curtly.
The haruspex began to protest, but Spartacus took a step forward. ‘Are you deaf? Peddle your lies somewhere else, or I’ll give you a set of bruises that you most definitely didn’t foresee.’
Muttering dire imprecations, the man sidled off.
Carbo didn’t really believe in soothsayers, but it was a little unnerving that after what he’d just heard, the man had picked him out from everyone else. He made the sign against evil.
Spartacus had other things on his mind. ‘Pssst! He’s moving. With only six men guarding him too,’ he hissed with delight. ‘Caepio’s one of them.’
Carbo’s eyes swivelled. With two legionaries in front and four behind, Crassus was heading in their general direction. To his surprise, one of the leading soldiers was indeed the veteran centurion. ‘They’re aiming for the same street we came in on. What should we do?’
Spartacus knew that the odds were long indeed, but his blood was up. ‘We go for it.’ Whether we’ll get away afterwards is uncertain, but it’s worth the risk.
Carbo’s heart was like a pounding drum in his chest. This is what he’d prayed for so hard, but two against six? The legionaries were fully armed too, and all they had were daggers. I can’t back down. He gave Spartacus a tight nod. ‘How do you want to do it?’
‘Let’s get ahead of him. Head into the alley that Tulla brought us down. Charge out as they come alongside. We take a soldier each — the ones nearest us — and put them down, hard. Then you go for whichever legionary gets to you first. I’ll kill Crassus. You’ll have to hold off the rest as they come at you. Think you can do that?’
‘Yes,’ said Carbo with all the confidence he could muster. I’m a dead man. What does that matter though, if we succeed?
‘The instant I’m done with Crassus, we flee back up the alley and lose ourselves in the back streets.’ His eyes drilled into Carbo. ‘Clear?’
He licked dry lips. ‘Yes.’
Spartacus honed in on the fractional delay in his reply. He chuckled. ‘You want to kill him, don’t you?’
‘I do.’
‘Think you can murder an unarmed man? You’d just have to hack into him, as you would with a side of pork. No thinking, no hesitating.’
Sudden doubt tore at Carbo. Could he slay Crassus in cold blood? He had always thought he could, but now the chance had fallen into his lap, he wasn’t so sure. His eyes fell away from the Thracian’s.
‘I’ll do it,’ Spartacus said.
Carbo rallied himself with images of his parents having to leave the house that been in the family for generations. The familiar rage flared in his belly. ‘I can do it,’ he protested.
‘No,’ replied Spartacus in a hard voice. ‘This is the only opportunity that we’ll ever get. There can be no cock-ups.’
Furious with himself, Carbo acquiesced.
‘Lead on then, or they’ll get ahead of us. Let’s pray that Tulla doesn’t come back before we’re out of sight. The last thing we need is her shouting after us.’
‘Right. I’ve had enough of waiting for the brat,’ said Carbo loudly, assuming his role of master once more. ‘Let’s head back to the inn.’ He strode off, not twenty paces ahead of Crassus and his escort. It was hard not to look behind him as he walked. The jingle of the legionaries’ mail was clearly audible. I’ll have to get close enough to stab my man in the throat. His anxiety grew, and his fingers stole of their own volition to the hilt of his dagger. Jupiter, let my aim be true.