‘You important, then?’
‘Important?’ I asked.
‘By the way those soldiers treated you back at Rhegium, I’d say you are some sort of leader of theirs.’
‘Idle speculation is such an amusing pastime, is it not?’ I remarked.
He looked at me with narrowed eyes. ‘I reckon the Romans would pay a handsome price for you, your lordship.’
I reached down to check that my dagger was still tucked into my boot. It was. ‘You are getting paid well for being a ferryman.’
‘Reckon I could get more from the Romans and keep the gold I’ve already got.’
‘Don’t get greedy, my fisherman friend, it is not an attractive quality.’
He spat some gristle over the side. ‘When you’re poor it is.’
‘How long have you lived in your village?’ I asked him.
‘All my life.’
‘And you have family there?’
‘A wife and two sprats,’ he beamed, ‘and another on the way. Should be here by the summer.’
The thought that any woman could lie with this odious wretch filled me with horror, but I managed to keep down my food.
‘If I fail to return, my men will burn your village and impale every one of its residents. Have you seen anyone being impaled?’
He shook his head.
‘It’s like crucifixion,’ I said, ‘only it’s done with a sharpened stake driven up your arse.’ I took a swig of wine. ‘I’m sure you wouldn’t like your family to die a death like that, would you?’
At that moment Hosidius came at me then with lightening speed. For a scrawny little wretch he was quick, lunging at me with a fishhook in his right hand, but I had seen him grab the weapon out of the corner of my eye, and as he lunged I jumped up and grabbed his right arm, then kicked him in the groin. He collapsed in the bottom of the boat where the seawater collected, spluttering face down in the fish guts and water. I drew my dagger and placed the blade next to his throat, grabbing his hair and yanking his head back with my left hand.
‘Please, please,’ said Cunobarrus. ‘He’s not a bad lad, just a bit simple and protective. I didn’t’ mean anything. It’s just the wine talking. I will get you back, no bother. Please.’
I flicked my right wrist and gave Hosidius a small cut next to his windpipe. Not deep, just enough to draw blood and cause him pain. Then I threw the fishhook overboard and shoved him back down in the filth. I went and sat near the bows. ‘You two sit at the stern where I can see you. And don’t say another word until we have finished our journey.’
Two hours later we pitched up on the beach near to the miserable collection of huts that Cunobarrus called home. There to meet us was Godarz, Burebista and a company of the latter’s horsemen. The cavalry filed onto the beach as I marched towards them.
‘Good trip?’ asked Godarz as he handed me the reins of Remus.
‘I’ll tell you later,’ I replied, accepting my sword from Burebista and buckling it around my waist. Cunobarrus scuttled up to us.
‘My fee, lord,’ he grovelled. Around us the inhabitants of the village began to gather, the men aged beyond their years by their hard toil, the women ugly and in rags and the children naked and covered in grime. I mounted Remus and ordered Godarz to give me his bag of gold for Cunobarrus.
‘Come and receive your payment, fisherman.’
Cunobarrus grinned to an over-sized woman who had a swollen belly, his wife I assumed, and walked over to me. I held out the bag and he took it, and then I reached down and struck him hard across the face, sending him sprawling on the sand. His wife screamed and waddled over to him.
‘That is for trying to betray me.’ I motioned to Burebista. ‘Make sure all the dwellings are empty and then burn them. Then burn the boats as well.’
There were shouts of protests from the inhabitants, but I was in no mood to debate the issue and my horsemen were armed and menacing.
‘This man,’ I shouted at them, pointing at Cunobarrus, ‘tried to betray me. You are paying the price for his attempted treachery. If you have any protests take them up with him. He has enough gold to rebuild your village and purchase new boats. If you have any sense, you will hang him and his assistant from the nearest tree.’
I watched as Burebista’s men fired the homes and then the boats on the shore, while an angry crowd closed around a wildly gesticulating Cunobarrus.
‘You have ill tidings?’ Godarz was sat on his horse next to me.
It was good to be seated once more upon the muscled frame of Remus. I stroked his neck as the flames consumed the village. ‘Spartacus is going to attempt a breakout and we must attack the Roman lines at the moment he does so.’
‘Makes sense. He can’t stay there forever. And after he has broken out?’
The first of the boats was now aflame on the shore. ‘We are to march on Rome, Godarz, to capture the greatest prize in Italy, perhaps the world.’
The vast pine forests of the Sila Mountains provided ample space and security for the cavalry, with each dragon establishing its own camp in a wide arc whose southern flank was anchored on the Helleporus River. Most of the inhabitants of the region had fled before us, the majority north to Croton and a few poor unfortunates south towards the Roman defence lines. No doubt they would inform the Romans of the great number of strange-looking horsemen who had raided their homes and villages for food, and would thus know of our presence. That is why we had to act fast. Byrd and his trusty scouts were patrolling both north and south and reported no enemy activity thus far, but their inactivity would not last long. On the morning of our departure, I assembled all the company commanders to my temporary command post that consisted of a canvas sheet ceiling fastened between two carts with sides of linen sheets for wind breaks. It was still cold but at least the sun was shining and there was no snow. A round, flat shield resting on boxes sufficed for a table, upon which was spread Godarz’s map. Cooks brought warm wine and hot porridge for those who tramped in, all wearing boots, leggings, tunics and cloaks, with most also sporting fur or felt caps. Godarz stood beside me as I gave my briefing, while across from me Gallia stared intently at the map, her lithe figure wrapped in a blue cloak and her hair cascading around her shoulders. Gafarn stood next to her, but I noticed that the others stood a little apart around her, clearly out of respect. Everyone knew that she was my woman, but they also knew that she was an excellent archer and a good fighter. Word had also spread of her unyielding nature; she had earned her right to be here.
I looked at their faces. They were Parthians, Spaniards, Thracians, Dacians, Greeks and Germans, all of them young aside from Godarz, and all of them brimming with confidence. It tore at my guts to think that I now had to hurl them against Roman defences. A part of me, I had to admit, wanted to order them to ride north with me, ride beyond the Alps back to my beloved Hatra. But what would posterity think of such an action, and of the man who ordered it?
‘Listen closely,’ I said. ‘We are going to go through the valley of the Lametus west to the Tyrrhenian coast, then ride south to attack the Romans from behind while our comrades at Rhegium will attack at the same spot from the south. The attack will take place during the hours of darkness to increase our chances of surprise, and hopefully add to the Romans’ confusion. The carts and two companies will remain in the hills of the Lametus until we have freed the army. We will join them once we have escorted the army from Rhegium. Godarz, you will command the force that stays with the carts, and Gafarn, you will keep Godarz company.’
‘I would prefer to ride with you, highness,’ he said.