‘No, we do not want to anger their gods. Besides, the flames might do it for us.’
The shops around the forum were beginning to catch alight now and I could feel the heat increasing all around us. It was time to leave. We rode back down the main road and left the way we had come. Behind us, the flames consumed Arretium.
I do not know if the people in the temple survived, though I liked to think so.
‘You are a fool, Pacorus,’ said Spartacus, reclining on cushions with Claudia beside him on the floor of his tent, which was covered with a large red carpet.
It was now over a month since I had raided the city, and the army had moved south through Latium and was now in Campania. My cavalry had raided far and wide with impunity, there being no opposition to stop us.
‘Leave him alone, Spartacus.’ Claudia smiled at me.
‘There is no honour in killing civilians, lord,’ I said, picking another rib from one of the platters on the table.
‘You hear that Spartacus?’ added Akmon. ‘He’s talking about honour again.’
Spartacus drank wine from his cup. ‘You are a fine soldier, Pacorus, and a great leader of horse.’ I winked at Gallia beside me, who rolled her eyes. ‘But all this talk of honour will get you killed if you’re not careful. The Romans have no honour, remember that.’
‘A man without honour is a man without a soul,’ mused Gafarn.
‘Are you a poet, or just drunk? asked Spartacus.
Gafarn looked at him, then me. ‘No, lord, but that is what King Varaz has always told his son. Is that not right, highness?’
‘That is right, Gafarn,’ I said proudly.
Spartacus proffered a jug of wine and filled my cup. ‘You are a lost cause, my friend.’
The tent flap opened, a guard walked in and saluted Spartacus. ‘There is a man outside, sir, a Roman.’
Spartacus stood up, as did we all. ‘A Roman? Is he mad, or perhaps has a wish to end his life?’
‘He says he has a letter, sir.’
‘For me?’ Spartacus spread his arms wide. ‘Perhaps the Romans want to surrender.’ We all laughed.
‘No, sir,’ replied the guard. ‘The letter is for Prince Pacorus.’
All eyes were on me. I was stunned.
‘It must be a mistake,’ I said. ‘Who knows me aside from those in this army.’
‘Who indeed?’ said Spartacus. He pointed at the guard. ‘Bring the letter.’
‘And the Roman?’
‘Kill him,’ said Akmon, his teeth battling a rib. The rib was winning.
‘No. Let him go,’ said Spartacus, ‘but see he doesn’t loiter. No doubt he is also a spy.’
‘All the more reason to kill him,’ grunted Akmon.
‘He says he has to obtain a reply before he leaves.’
‘You can’t kill everyone,’ I said.
‘Why not?’ he mumbled.
The guard brought in the letter and handed it to me. It was a scroll with a wax seal. Claudia and Gallia sat back down on the cushions as I handed it to Spartacus.
‘You read it, lord.’
‘Me? But it is addressed to you.’
‘I have a feeling that it also concerns you.’
I sat beside Gallia as Spartacus cut the seal, flopped down beside his wife and read the letter out loud.
To Prince Pacorus, son of King Varaz of Hatra.
Greetings.
My name is Marcus Licinius Crassus. Having been appointed by the People and Senate of Rome to safeguard their freedom and lives, I have vowed in the temple of my ancestors to bring to an end the murderous uprising of the slaves under the criminal Spartacus. But I know that you are not a slave and that you are the son of a noble line whose blood flows from the ancient Arsacid dynasty. By what curious fate you find yourself among slaves and criminals I know not, but I do know that the kings of the Parthian Empire are men of honour, and therefore knowing that there is nobility in Parthia, I have no hesitation in assuming that you too are a person of quality and importance.
This being the case, I invite you to meet with me at my house in Rome so that we can discuss more fully the sad present state of affairs you find yourself in, and perhaps reach an understanding that is beneficial to us both. Know that this invitation is given freely without any preconditions or expectations, and be assured that your person will be esteemed inviolable should you grant me the honour of meeting with you in person. This letter shall grant you safe conduct to and from my house in the city of Rome.
I eagerly await your reply. I remain your friend.
Marcus Licinius Crassus, General and Senator of Rome.
‘Who is this Crassus?’ asked Claudia.
I shrugged. ‘Never heard of him.’
Spartacus rolled up the scroll and handed it back to me. ‘Well, he has obviously heard of you. What are you going to do?’
‘Ignore it, I suppose. What is this Crassus to me?’
Spartacus gestured at the guard. ‘Bring in the messenger.’
The man, in his forties and dressed in a tunic of quality with a thick cloak around his shoulders, was shorter than Spartacus and had a full head of hair. His countenance was one of wisdom and maturity.
‘What is your name?’
‘Ajax, sir.’ I noticed that the man did not look directly at Spartacus but stared at the floor in front of him.
‘You are a slave.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Who is your master?’
‘Marcus Licinius Crassus.’
‘How long have you been a slave?’
‘Many years, sir, in the house of my master.’
Spartacus poured a cup of wine and handed it to Ajax. ‘Would you like a drink?’
Ajax took the cup and drank, aware that everyone was watching him.
‘Would you like to join us, Ajax? To be a free man?’
Ajax drained the cup and handed it back to Spartacus, still looking at the floor.
‘That is a most generous offer, sir. But my master has been very kind to me and treats me very well. I must, therefore, decline your magnanimous offer.’
‘You see, Pacorus,’ Spartacus looked at me, ‘how making the leap from slave to free man is a chasm too wide for many.
‘I must beg an answer from Prince Pacorus,’ Ajax said.
‘You are walking into a trap,’ snorted Akmon, finishing his wine and then pouring himself some more.
‘My master has vouchsafed the life of Prince Pacorus,’ replied Ajax, still staring at the floor, ‘and no harm will come to him.’
‘Do you trust your master, Ajax?’ asked Spartacus.
‘With my life, sir.’
Spartacus laughed. ‘That much is obvious, for he has sent you into the wolf’s lair sure enough. Well, Pacorus, it is your decision.’
I looked around me. Akmon was shaking his head at me, Claudia was glancing at me and then Spartacus, while Diana looked very worried and Gafarn bemused. I turned to Gallia.
‘I would like to see Rome, I must confess.’
‘It is your choice, my love. But the Romans have put you in chains once; can you be sure they will not do so again, or worse?’
I could not, of course, but I must confess that the chance to see Rome itself was too much to resist. Rubi began hissing at Ajax, until Gallia told her to be silent.
‘I will go with you, Ajax.’
Akmon sighed with disgust, Diana grabbed Gafarn’s arm while Claudia cast her eyes to the floor.
‘It is decided, then,’ said Spartacus.
‘I hope you are not disappointed, lord,’ I said.
‘Of course not. You are free to make your own choices. That is why this army exists, and why the Romans hate us so much.’
While I waited for Remus to be brought to me, I said my farewells. They were more tearful than I expected, though strange to say the quiet presence of Ajax was reassuring. He fervently believed in the word of his master. I hoped he was right. I embraced Gallia and promised that I would take care of myself. As we were walking from the tent Spartacus called after us.
‘Ajax, if anything happens to Pacorus, tell your master that I will kill ten thousand Romans in retaliation.’