Ariadne listened. Sure enough, there were numerous muttered conversations outside. She was filled with pride at this proof of the men’s love for their leader. ‘How many are out there now?’
‘Dozens.’
‘We cannot let them wait. Take the baby, so I can sit up.’
‘You need to rest,’ said the midwife, alarmed.
‘I can do that later. Besides, I want them to see Maron.’ She handed him to the crone. ‘Swaddle him, please.’ Ariadne sat up carefully. She reached for the bronze mirror that sat beside the bed and used it so that she could comb and tie back her hair. She found her dark red woollen cloak and threw it over her shoulders. It would conceal her nightdress, and remind everyone that as well as being Spartacus’s wife, she was also a priestess. She wondered about taking out her snake too, but decided against it. Seeing Maron would impress them enough. ‘I’m ready,’ she announced, reaching out for the baby.
‘Are you sure? You’ve just been through childbirth. You mustn’t overdo it,’ scolded the midwife.
‘I won’t stay outside for long.’
There was an exasperated sigh. The old woman lifted the tent flap.
A hush fell at once.
Holding Maron to her chest, Ariadne stepped into the sunlight.
A loud Ahhhhh rose into the air from the large crowd of men who stood before the tent. Among them, Ariadne recognised Navio, Pulcher, Egbeo, and many others. ‘You have come to see Spartacus’ son?’ she asked.
‘YES!’ they shouted.
Startled, Maron woke up and began to cry.
The men gave each other embarrassed grins.
‘Hush now,’ Ariadne whispered, comforting Maron. ‘Those are your father’s soldiers, who have come to welcome you into the world.’ It was as if he understood her words. He quietened, and began to nuzzle for her breast. ‘In a moment, little man.’ She advanced, so that everyone could see. ‘Our son is healthy, and has fed well.’
Men laughed, grinned and slapped each other on the back.
‘What’s his name?’ asked Egbeo.
‘Maron.’
They cheered.
‘After Spartacus’ brother, who died fighting the Romans?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s a good Thracian name. A strong name,’ declared Egbeo.
‘Behold Maron, son of Spartacus,’ cried Ariadne, raising him into the air.
That made them roar until they were hoarse.
Maron began to cry again and, seeing his distress, the men fell silent. Ariadne cuddled him until he was content once more.
‘May he grow up to be as strong and clever as his father,’ called a man with a black beard.
‘As good with a sword and spear as Spartacus!’
‘And as good-looking as his mother,’ added a voice further back.
Ariadne joined in the laughter. Here, basking in the adoration of Spartacus’ soldiers, it was easy to forget her nightmare. But she knew that when she went back inside, her fears would return. Ever since they had turned away from the Alps, she had worried about the future. They could not march around Italy for the rest of their lives. The Romans would not permit it. To think otherwise was naive in the extreme. Yet most of the men seemed to believe just that.
‘Ariadne,’ said a familiar voice.
‘Castus.’ She could not keep her displeasure from her voice. ‘And Gannicus,’ she added with a trace more warmth. Inside, her stomach was churning. Neither man would wish Spartacus’ son and heir well. She wouldn’t put it past them to slip a blade into Maron’s heart. Ariadne took some relief from the fact that Atheas and Taxacis, scowls locked in place, were right at the Gauls’ backs. ‘You’ve come to see Maron?’
‘We have,’ said Castus with a half-smile. He came closer and Ariadne had to force herself not to back away.
Castus peered at the baby. ‘He’s handsome. May he grow up healthy and strong.’
‘Just like his father,’ added Gannicus with real heartiness. ‘And may the gods watch over him always.’
‘Thank you,’ said Ariadne, still wary.
Castus made to speak, but Gannicus intervened. ‘We shouldn’t stay. She’s tired.’
‘It was good of you to come.’ Despite their apparent goodwill, Ariadne eyed the pair with deep suspicion. Since the showdown about where the army would go, she had avoided talking to them. As far as she was concerned, they had betrayed Spartacus. They could not be relied upon. Yet although relations had been strained, Spartacus had continued to deal with them. ‘Because I have to,’ he’d said to her repeatedly. ‘Otherwise the split will come sooner.’ I want to know now. She had heard enough talk about how they were cajoling men to follow them. She threw caution to the wind. They wouldn’t attack her or the baby, not with the Scythians at their backs. ‘When are you going to leave?’
Castus flushed. ‘We’re just leaving.’
‘That’s not what she meant,’ said Gannicus, his eyes narrowing. ‘Is it?’
‘No.’
‘What makes you so sure that we will?’ asked Castus.
‘Come on. A blind man could see how angry you were when Spartacus told the men that he would lead them south again. Besides, you told him that you would when the time was right.’
‘I might have changed my mind,’ he said with a silky smile.
‘But you haven’t.’
Castus didn’t deny it, but he didn’t answer either.
Ariadne turned to Gannicus. ‘I know that you will split off eventually. Have you decided when?’
Gannicus sucked on his moustache and said nothing.
Ariadne felt safe enough to let her temper rise. ‘Well?’ she demanded.
‘I haven’t decided,’ Gannicus admitted. ‘We’ll see how the land lies after we make camp near Thurii.’
‘But you will break away?’
‘Yes.’ He held her gaze. ‘Spartacus is a great leader, but a man can’t follow another all his life.’
‘Thank you for your honesty.’
He smiled, reminding her why she had always preferred him to the shifty Castus. Yet she still wouldn’t trust either man. Without the Scythians’ presence, she would have been scared.
‘When were you planning on telling me that?’ Castus’ tone was accusatory.
‘In my own good time.’
‘The best thing would be to unite forces. Go together.’
‘True. Let’s not argue about it here, eh?’ Gannicus glanced at Ariadne. ‘Wishing the blessings of the gods upon you and your son.’ He reached out and threw an arm over Castus’ shoulders. Still grumbling, the red-haired Gaul let himself be led away.
Ariadne watched them go. They’ll probably go in the spring. That would make most sense, after the hard weather is over. The knowledge sent relief, and a little sadness, flooding through her veins. After the uncertainty, it was better to know. Once she told Spartacus, he could make plans, work on the men’s loyalty, seek out even more recruits. But they still needed a place to head for. Thurii was a long way from Rome, but it wasn’t an impregnable fortress, or inaccessible. To reach it, all the Romans had to do was march down the Via Annia. Where would be best?
Maron whimpered, distracting her. Ariadne retreated into the tent, racking her brains. There had to be somewhere that they could go. She would ask the god. Dionysus had helped her previously. Perhaps he would again now.
‘You prick!’ hissed Castus when they were clear of the throng. ‘You told her when you would leave before me?’
‘I said I’d see how the land lay after we got to Thurii. I didn’t say when I’d leave.’
‘We hadn’t even talked about that!’ Castus spat.
‘We had decided that we wouldn’t make any definite decisions until then. By inference, that meant we would move some time after that.’ Gannicus couldn’t stop the sarcasm creeping into his voice.
‘Don’t you fucking patronise me!’ shouted Castus. ‘I thought we were supposed to be acting together?’