His men were lounging each side of the road, making derogatory comments about the latest recruits to the army. Several of them sprang to their feet and grabbed their weapons when they saw me approach. Obviously Crixus had made his dislike of me among his own people well known.
‘Who are these people?’ I asked their leader.
He viewed me warily with cold grey eyes, his dark hair hanging lank around his shoulders. ‘Newly freed slaves, or runaways. Come to join Spartacus. Where are the Romans?’
His discourtesy was almost as repellant as the stink coming from his body, but I ignored his curt manner.
‘We gave them a bloody nose. They won’t be here for a while.’ I looked at the long line of men dressed in rags ambling across the river. ‘We need to get across and report to Spartacus. Clear these people out of the way.’
He laughed. ‘You’ll have to wait, either that or swim across.’
The river was wide and obviously deep. The stone bridge across it had five arches that spanned the dark blue and fast-moving water. I walked up to him and faced him.
‘What is your name, Gaul?’
He grinned, revealing a row of black teeth. ‘Tasgetius, captain under Crixus.’
‘You know who I am?’
His smiled disappeared. ‘The Parthian,’ he sneered.
I reached behind my back and pulled my dagger from its sheath, then whipped it up to his throat.
‘Then you know that Parthians never back down, so move these people aside and let us pass. That is an order.’
By now all the Gauls were on their feet and were ready to hack me into small pieces, but the sight of nearly four hundred arrows pointed at them made them hesitate, for my men had divided into two groups and were in front of the Gauls. They now sat in their saddles with their bows ready to fire. I looked directly at Tasgetius. He blinked first.
‘Of course, Parthian, we have no wish to fight you. We are on the same side, are we not?’ He pointed at one of his men. ‘Move these bastards aside. Let the horsemen pass.’
I withdrew my dagger and nodded at him. ‘My thanks, Tasgetius. I shall inform Spartacus personally of your cooperation.’
I vaulted onto Remus’ back and took his reins from Nergal.
‘Making new friends?’ he said sourly.
‘These Gauls are more trouble than they’re worth,’ I said.
‘Isn’t Gallia a Gaul, highness?’
‘She’s different,’ I said, moving Remus forward as the Gauls manhandled the others aside — I wondered how many were already regretting fleeing from their masters?
‘She certainly is,’ he smiled.
We made it over the bridge and rode across country to the camp, a massive, sprawling collection of tents, makeshift canvas shelters and groups of individuals huddled around campfires.
The camp seemed to fill miles of the pain that stopped at the foot of a large mountain chain that ran from east to west. In my absence the number of those following Spartacus had increased markedly, though I wondered how so many new recruits were going to be trained and armed in time to face the Roman army that had been delayed, but only temporarily. Food seemed less of a problem, for the entire plain was filled with thousands of animals — cattle, pigs, sheep, goats, chickens and oxen, some in ramshackle pens, others tied to carts and many more wandering free over the grass. The whole scene resembled a gigantic market day, which would be a bloody day if any Roman forces happened upon it. I said a prayer to Shamash that they would not. Now I realised the huge responsibility Spartacus had entrusted me with, and was pleased that I had not let him down.
In the middle of the multitude was the Roman camp that had stood on the slopes of Vesuvius, dismantled and rebuilt here. Guards stood at the main entrance, which was flanked by wooden watchtowers. On the top of one stood the impish Akmon, who immediately climbed down the ladder when he saw our column.
He raced out of the entrance waving his arms.
‘You can’t bring those horses in here, we’re too crowded as it is. The rest of your lot is camped about a mile away, due west, close to the river.’ He pointed at me. ‘Spartacus wants a report off you before you go.’
I told Nergal to take the men and find the rest of the cavalry, while I dismounted and led Remus into the ‘Roman’ camp. As before, all the tents were arranged in neat lines. Akmon walked beside me along the central avenue towards the command tent. He was clearly unhappy.
‘Too many people. We won’t be able to stay here long.’
‘How many people?’ I asked.
‘Last count, over thirty thousand and more coming in each day. I heard about your little spat with the Romans, your man filled us in on it. Well done, should give us a bit of time.’
‘The camp seems orderly,’ I noted.
He laughed. ‘Of course, Spartacus only lets Thracians and Germans in. Keeps the rest outside.’
‘And Crixus?’ I asked.
He spat on the ground. ‘He gathers all the Gauls to him. He’s chafing at the bit. He wasn’t best pleased that you won a bit of glory.’
‘I can imagine.’
Spartacus stood at the entrance to his tent, which stood around twelve feet in height. He steeped forward and embraced me in an iron grip, slapping me hard on the back as he released me.
‘I knew I could rely on you. Godarz told me all about it. Come inside and have a drink to clear the dust from your throat. Thank you, Akmon.’
His second-in-command saluted and stomped off as we stepped inside, to be greeted by Claudia, Diana and Gallia, the beautiful Gallia, who all stood applauding me. I blushed, not because of their applause but I could once again clasp eyes on the blond-haired beauty who filled my thoughts. Spartacus put an arm round my shoulder.
‘Leave the boy alone, Claudia, and pour us all some wine.’
Gallia strolled over to me, and jabbed a finger hard into my ribs.
‘Don’t ever do that again,’ she hissed.
I was mortified. ‘What?’
‘Leave without saying goodbye. Don’t they have manners in Parthia?’
‘I promise that one day I will take you there and you can judge for yourself.’ I gazed into her blue eyes and totally forget all else there. She smiled and titled her head slightly.
‘I will look forward to that, Prince Pacorus.’
‘Enough,’ barked Spartacus, ‘we have a war to win first.’
I stayed with them until dusk, drinking, eating and talking. I liked these people, and wanted nothing more than to be with them always. Though they were technically under my command, Gallia and Diana stayed in the camp and I was glad for that: at least they had some sort of protection if it was attacked, for I doubted that the Romans would be long delayed. As the sun sank slowly as a red ball in the western sky I walked Remus to the main entrance with Gallia by my side. Spartacus had told me that he was riding into the mountains tomorrow and he wanted me to accompany him, but he would say no more.
‘Do you like fighting?’ asked Gallia.
‘That’s a strange question.’
‘Nergal and Godarz say that you are good at it, so I assume that you enjoy it.’
‘Have my men been gossiping behind my back?’
‘Not at all,’ she replied. ‘I asked them a question and they answered. I can be very persuasive.’
I did not doubt that. I would promise her the world if she but asked.
‘Well?’ she prompted.
I shrugged. ‘I suppose I was bred for war.’
She was outraged, her nostrils flaring. ‘Bred!’
‘The training of Parthian nobles is arduous. From a baby until I was five my time was spent with my mother and other women of the court, and away from my father. Thereafter I was schooled in running, swimming, horse care, hunting on foot and horseback, fighting with the sword, throwing the spear and javelin, and above all archery. I rode and shot the bow every day for fifteen years. Then, at the age of twenty, I entered the army proper as a member of my father’s bodyguard. So, after all that effort, I hope that I am reasonably competent at the military arts.’