‘Surely that’s simple enough?’ She looked at his face and used her intuition. The same thought had troubled her since they’d broken out of the ludus. ‘Let me guess. Crixus won’t go along with your idea.’
‘Of course not. He wants to fight Varinius. He says only cowards run from an enemy. Castus agrees with him.’
‘But we wouldn’t be running! Merely moving to a more secure base.’ There was another option, thought Ariadne guiltily. She and Spartacus and a few others — the Scythians, the Thracians and maybe Carbo — could leave. Make their way out of Italy. It seemed cowardly even to think it, so she did her best to bury the idea.
‘I told him that,’ said Spartacus. ‘It’s not as if we won’t have to fight the Romans again! The prick wasn’t having any of it, though. He’s talking about leaving, taking his men with him. Castus might go too.’
The Gaulish leaders had quickly realised that the recruits flooding in were a source of recruits to their own factions. All three had won great popularity among countless hundreds of the slaves. If Crixus and Castus departed, it would considerably reduce Spartacus’ strength. Worried now, Ariadne stared at him. ‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’m going to enjoy my stew, and then I’m taking my wife to bed. Maybe she can warm the chill from my bones.’ He squeezed her hip.
Ariadne wanted the same thing too, but she forced a frown. ‘I’m being serious.’
His grin faded. ‘I know you are. I’ve called a council of war for the morning.’
‘And?’
‘With the Great Rider’s blessing, I will persuade them both to stay with us.’ The muscles in his jaw worked. ‘If they have any sense at all, they’ll have come to that conclusion anyway.’
She pulled away from his embrace. ‘Feed yourself,’ she said crisply, reaching for her cloak. ‘I’ll be back in a while.’
Spartacus’ eyebrows rose. ‘Where are you going?’
‘To ask for Dionysus’ support. We need all the help we can get.’
Spartacus’ thoughts of sex faded. He stared grimly after Ariadne as she vanished into the gloom. She’s right.
Reluctant to turn in before he heard whether Ariadne had any news, Spartacus stayed by the fire. Wrapping a pair of blankets around himself to ward off the cold, he poured out a bowl of stew and sat down to eat. The food was gone all too soon, but his still grumbling belly was the least of his concerns. Crixus. It always came down to the arrogant and argumentative Crixus. I could fight him again. Spartacus dismissed the idea at once. After their previous clash, the Gaul would insist on fighting with weapons. Even if he beat Crixus, he’d probably have to kill him, which would be counter-productive. There was no guarantee that Castus would stay in that instance either. Take him on too? No. I can’t fight everyone in the damn army. There must be a way of convincing them not to leave.
More than two hours passed. Full night had fallen, and the moon was climbing from the distant horizon. It was growing steadily colder, and the camp had gone quiet. Apart from the sentries, everyone had sought the comfort of their shelters. Thanks to the equipment seized after their victories over Furius and Cossinius, a sizeable number had leather tents. Hunching his shoulders, Spartacus moved his feet closer to the edge of the fire. There could be a frost tonight.
‘You’re still up,’ said Ariadne, emerging from the darkness.
‘Of course.’ He studied her face for clues, but her expression was closed.
‘Is there any stew left?’
‘Yes, I left you half.’
She tutted at him. ‘You need food far more than I do.’
‘I’ve had plenty,’ Spartacus lied, knowing that she usually gave him the lion’s share. He watched in silence as Ariadne scraped out the pot and sat down to eat.
‘Aren’t you going to ask me if I saw something?’
‘Did you?’
‘Yes.’
As ever, his belly tightened. ‘What was it?’
She countered with a question. ‘What are your long-term plans?’
‘I haven’t got any,’ he replied frankly. ‘In my game, it’s best not to. A warrior never knows when his life might end.’
‘You must have had some thoughts about it.’
He considered her words. ‘I’d like to forge an army, a proper army. Beat the Romans in open battle.’
‘To what end? That wouldn’t be enough,’ she retorted. ‘The bastards never give up.’ That’s been my plan since I first left my village all those years ago.
‘I know. Even after Hannibal wiped out their army at Cannae, they didn’t despair. It took them nearly twenty years but they beat him in the end. And Hannibal had a proper army. What have I got? A few thousand slaves!’
Ariadne hadn’t heard him talk like this before. ‘Don’t give up,’ she urged.
‘You mistake me,’ he retorted. His eyes glittered fiercely in the firelight. ‘I have more men here than the warriors of several tribes in Thrace. I haven’t had to fight to unify them either. While that number follows me, I will never give up! Nor will I ever be a slave again. But I also know the realities that we face. The Republic did not become the power that it is for no reason. Its people are proud, warlike and brave, but most of all, they are stubborn. The majority of races eventually accept defeat — Thracians included,’ he added bitterly. ‘Not the Romans, however. They would rather be wiped out than give in. That simple fact is what someone like Crixus will never understand. Varinius is but one commander of a score that the Senate could call upon. His troops are a tiny fraction of Rome’s manpower. Each time we defeat them, we make it more inevitable that ever greater numbers of soldiers will be sent against us. That’s why it is so important not to run off and offer battle to Varinius like a wild beast defending its territory, but to make every encounter take place at a time and a place of our choosing. Another truth that Crixus does not see.’
‘There is a different option,’ said Ariadne softly.
He gave her a sharp glance. ‘What — to leave Italy?’
‘Yes. It would be easy enough to do. A small band, travelling fast, could easily avoid the troops looking for us. Carbo says that it’s only three hundred miles or so to the Alps.’
‘Winter is just around the corner. The mountains are no place to be when snow is falling.’
‘Hannibal crossed them at this time of year,’ she challenged.
‘But he was coming into Italy, to fight the bastard Romans. Not to run away from them.’
‘That’s not what you would be doing,’ Ariadne protested.
‘Is it not? Supposing we made it back to Thrace and I overthrew Kotys. Would I just forget all about what we’re doing here?’
Ariadne felt her cheeks flame.
‘Is that what you saw?’
‘No.’
‘Good. I can hear the whispers in my village even now. “Spartacus raised an army of slaves, and just when they needed him most, he abandoned them to their fate.”’ He scowled. ‘Because that’s what I’d be doing. If I left, what do you think would happen to the people in the camp here?’
‘They’d splinter into small groups. Get picked off by the Romans, probably.’
‘That’s right. The lucky ones would be enslaved again. The rest would starve to death or get killed by wolves.’ He stared at her. ‘I can’t leave them. I won’t.’
Ariadne wasn’t surprised by his response. ‘My conscience wouldn’t let me do that either.’ Liar. If the other event I saw comes to pass, I’d try to get away in a heartbeat. I can’t tell him that, however.
‘I’m a warrior who stands and fights, not a yellow-livered coward who skulks off when times get hard, leaving the weak to fend for themselves.’
‘I know,’ she said gently. ‘And if you could take the whole army over the Alps?’
His eyes narrowed. ‘That is an entirely different proposition. However, there’s more chance of the Great Rider appearing before me right now than of persuading the Gauls to go along with that idea. They were born into slavery. So were most of the Germans. They hate Rome and what it stands for, but Italy is their entire world. It’s a rich land, with easy pickings for men like us. Why would they even consider leaving it?’ He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘That’s what came to you? The army crossing the Alps?’