Oenomaus looked defiantly at me. ‘Do it.’
‘Why soil this fine blade with your blood?’ I replied.
‘You’re a gutless son of a whore.’
‘Release the prisoners to me, now!’
The Gauls began to gather behind their leader, their weapons drawn and ready to use, but my men raised their bows, ready to loose a hail of arrows into their ranks, and the Thracians also stood with my men. This clearly deterred them and made Oenomaus think again. Still looking directly at me and unflinching, he gave the order for the Romans to be released. The ragged band of terrified prisoners was roughly manhandled over to where I stood with my sword at the Gaul’s throat and they instinctively huddled behind me. Oenomaus smiled.
‘Take them, Parthian, no doubt you will take one of the men to warm your bed.’
Several of the Gauls sniggered and whooped with joy. I was seriously tempted to ram my sword through his throat. I resisted the temptation.
‘Go now, Gaul,’ I said, calmly, ‘back to the cesspool that you crawled from.’
He spat on my boots, turned and limped away. His men followed sullenly. Moments later the forum was devoid of Gauls and I sheathed my sword.
‘You should have killed him,’ said Akmon, who now stood by my side. ‘He’ll come for you again, without a doubt. Make sure you sleep with one eye open. The next time it will be a dagger in the dark.’ He barked an order for his men to form a column and slapped me hard across the back. ‘Nice work with that sword, though. We’ll make a gladiator out of you yet.’
As the Thracians marched in step from the forum one of the Romans, an elderly man with white wispy hair and pale skin nervously stepped forward from the group.
‘Thank you,’ he said in a low voice, his eyes looking at the ground.
‘You are welcome.’
I gave the order for clothing or blankets to be found to restore the women’s dignity. The elderly Roman, seeing that he and his group were not about to be killed, relaxed a little.
‘My name is Quintus Hortonius, and I thank you on behalf of myself and my family and friends.’
There were ten men of varying ages, six women, two of them of teenage years, two small children and a baby. They were all very pale. It appeared that all the women, young and old, had indeed been raped.
‘We were hiding in my house when we were captured,’ Hortonius continued. ‘They must have thought we were rich for they demanded to know where our treasure was. They took all the gold and silver we had, then marched us to this place and…’
He stopped and stared at the bloody corpses that had been beheaded. Tears welled up in his eyes.
‘You must leave this place,’ I said.
‘And go where?’
‘There is a Roman army near. I will give you an escort to ensure you all stay out of danger, but you must leave now.’
I told Burebista to give them food and water for their journey, then detailed six of his men to escort them from the town and back down the road we had earlier travelled along. I told him that he and his men should abandon them if any Roman soldiers came into view. As my men rode from the forum the aged Roman approached me.
‘I don’t know your name, friend.’
‘My name is Pacorus, prince of Hatra.’
He extended his hand for me to take. ‘Then I thank you, Prince Pacorus, for sparing our lives.’ I took his hand, it seemed churlish not to, and he smiled.
‘Perhaps we shall meet again, when I will be able to return the courtesy.’
‘I doubt it,’ I said, taking Remus’ reins, ‘for my destination is Parthia and that’s a long way from here.’
‘What is a prince doing among such a rabble?’
‘It is a long story, sir, and I do not have the time to tell it to you.’
‘Romans are brought up to believe that all foreign races are barbarians,’ he said. ‘And yet today you have shown that there is nobility in Parthia. I bid you a safe journey, young prince.’
‘Thank you, sir. My men will ensure that you and your companions are not molested. I bid you farewell.’
The Gauls had started several fires in the town, and by now they were taking hold and spewing dense black smoke into the sky. I watched the survivors being escorted down the road, a sad band of homeless wretches trudging over the flagstones. At least they had their lives and were in their homeland.
We caught up with Akmon and his men about a mile from the town. There was no sign of the Gauls. Three hours later we found the army, camped around fifteen miles south of Forum Annii and spread across the plain from one side of the tree-covered slopes of the mountains to the other. As usual, and which always made me smile, the Roman camp had been erected in the dead centre, with its neat avenues and blocks of tents. After dismissing the men and instructing them to find our camp, I rode into the Roman camp.
I found Spartacus in his tent, sitting in a chair. He looked tired and drawn, his face showing signs of stubble where he had not shaved and there were dark rings around his eyes. He put up a hand in recognition when he saw me and beckoned me to sit. Claudia appeared from the back of the tent, looking equally exhausted.
‘Long journey?’ I asked as she poured me cup of wine then sat beside her husband.
‘Endless,’ he replied.
‘Where’s Gallia?’ I asked
That raised a smile from Claudia. ‘Have no fear, little one, your beloved is safe and well protected by your horsemen. She and Diana are with your cavalry.’
I felt myself blushing. ‘Well, I meant to say, is Gallia and everyone else safe?’
‘Of course you did,’ said Claudia, teasingly.
Spartacus was in no mood for levity, though. ‘Where are the Romans?’
‘No sign of them, lord,’ I replied.
He looked at me searchingly with narrowed, bloodshot eyes. ‘Word reached me that you passed through Forum Annii.’
I wondered what other words he had heard.
‘I did, what was left of it.’
‘You disapprove of Crixus’ methods?’
‘I disapprove of Crixus entirely,’ I replied.
‘So do I,’ added Claudia.
‘You may be interested to know that he suffered a nasty head wound when taking the town. Seems the garrison put up more of a fight than was expected. That’s why his men went on a rampage when they got inside. They lost nearly four hundred dead before they managed to scale the walls. At this moment Crixus is lying in his tent with a mighty headache.’
‘Pity his head wasn’t split open,’ I said.
Spartacus smiled. ‘What would you both have me do with him? Kill him, banish him? If I did that I would lose a quarter of my army. The problem I have is that there is a Roman army approaching and I need every man I can get hold of, especially one that likes killing Romans.’
‘He certainly likes that,’ I added bitterly.
Spartacus grimaced. ‘Needs must, Pacorus. This army is bound together by a fear and loathing of the Romans, but some of those bonds are tenuous. I have to keep this army strong and united or we will lose.’ He rose and cupped his wife’s face in his hands, kissed her and then looked at me. ‘Go and get some food and rest. Embrace Gallia and forget about Crixus.’
I rose and saluted. ‘Yes, lord.’
‘Oh and Pacorus,’ he said.
‘Yes, lord?’
‘I heard about your little disagreement with Oenomaus. You should have killed him.’
I would have to add him to the list of people who were still alive but, according to others, shouldn’t be.