‘We’re all here. Good,’ said Spartacus. ‘We haven’t got much time so here’s the plan. These are the Romans.’ He pointed to where Akmon had arranged one group of blocks into a straight line. ‘We will attack them with a pig’s head through their centre.’
‘Pig’s head?’ I asked.
‘It’s simple,’ said Akmon, ‘one section of the army is shaped like a spear point. This is our army,’ he pointed at the line of wood blocks opposite those representing the Romans. He took one block and pushed it beyond the others in the line, then placed two blocks immediately behind it. It looked like a pyramid. ‘See, a wedge shape that can pierce the enemy line.’ He then pushed the pyramid made from three blocks into the Roman blocks and forced it through.
‘The Romans won’t be expecting us to attack, that’s our advantage,’ continued Spartacus. ‘So we’ll split their centre, smash straight through, and after that it will just be a matter of mopping up.’
‘Let my Gauls break them,’ said Crixus.
‘Not this time, Crixus,’ replied Spartacus. ‘You and your men will be on the left. They will form a line right up to the trees on the slopes of the mountain. Castus, your Germans will do the same on the right. Right up to the slopes — you must not let yourself be outflanked.’
What about me?’ I asked.
‘What about you?’ sneered Crixus. ‘It’s obvious that Spartacus has no use for you and your dainty little horses.’
Spartacus smiled at me. ‘On the contrary, Pacorus and his men will form up behind my Thracians in the centre.’
‘Not on the wings?’ I was confused.
‘If we were on a wide expanse of ground, then yes,’ said Spartacus. ‘But the end of this plateau is narrow and we can’t be outflanked.’
‘Neither can the Romans,’ said Castus.
‘That’s right. Which is why we must punch through their centre. Split them in two and then Pacorus’ horse can pour through the gap and sweep around behind them. The result will be two groups of surrounded and isolated Romans.’ Spartacus swept the Roman blocks off the table and onto the floor. ‘Simple.’
It did indeed seem simple, but I could tell that Spartacus had thought it out carefully beforehand. He had chosen this spot on which to fight. Claudia brought a tray of cups and a jug of wine. She smiled at me and poured wine into the cups, then handed one to each of us. Spartacus raised his cup.
‘Victory. May whatever gods you follow be with you this day.’ We raised our cups and drank to his toast.
‘And now, to your posts.’
Crixus drained his cup, belched loudly and left, followed by Akmon. I shook hands with Castus and he too departed, while I nodded at Spartacus as Claudia handed him his mail shirt and helmet. I rode back to the cavalry camp, where Nergal, Burebista, Godarz, Byrd, Gafarn and Rhesus were waiting. I noticed that Gallia, Diana and Praxima were stood a few feet away, checking their bows and daggers. I was determined that they would see no fighting this day. Around them men and horses were being formed up; the activity was hurried but not disorganised. I gathered my officers in a semi-circle and told them of Spartacus’ plan for the coming battle.
‘Makes sense,’ said Godarz. ‘There is not enough room for us to attack on the flanks.’
‘We will form up in three blocks, one of three hundred at the front and the others each two hundred strong,’ I told them. ‘I will be in the lead; Nergal will command the middle group and Burebista the third. Godarz, you will command the rest, which will form the reserve. The reserve will be made up of those who have had little training and who do not know how to shoot a bow or use a lance from the saddle.’
‘I would prefer to fight,’ said Godarz.
‘If things turn out differently from Spartacus’ plan, my friend,’ I told him, ‘then you will get your wish.’
After I had dismissed them I went to see the women, bringing Gafarn along.
‘I want you to stay with them,’ I told him. ‘And make sure they stay well away from the fighting.’
‘I will do my best, highness, as I told you earlier when you gave me exactly the same command.’
Gallia and Diana were filling their quivers with arrows, while Praxima was bucking on a belt with a sheathed sword attached. Where did she get that from?
‘You will all stay with Godarz and Gafarn, with the reserve,’ I ordered them.
‘I want to kill Romans,’ said Praxima, who was slipping a dagger into her right boot.
‘So do I,’ seconded Gallia, her plaited blond hair running down her back. Diana said nothing.
‘Have you considered that the Romans might kill you first?’ I asked them. ‘Being part of an army means obeying orders, and you will obey mine.’
I pointed at Godarz and Gafarn to emphasise the point and then returned to where my horsemen were forming up, Rhesus marshalling the companies into line. The smell of leather and horses was comforting as the cavalry concentrated in the centre of the line, behind Akmon’s Thracians. The army used exactly the same formations and tactics as the Romans. ‘Their weapons, training and tactics have conquered half the world,’ Spartacus had told me. ‘I see no reason not to copy them.’ And so it was that in front of me thousands of men formed themselves into units called centuries, which were eight ranks deep and ten files wide, though men were detached from the last rank to carry out other duties: standard bearer, a horn blower, water carriers and medical orderlies. Each century had a centurion, a man who commanded the unit and who led from the front. He stood on the extreme right in the front rank. Six centuries made up what was called a cohort, which was around five hundred strong. In battle, as here in front of me, the centuries of the cohort deployed beside each other in a line. Ten cohorts made up a legion, which thus numbered around five thousand men in total. The normal battlefield deployment for a legion, so Spartacus told me, was four cohorts in the first line, three in the second line and three in the third line. But for this battle Spartacus had his Thracians deployed with one cohort at the front, two cohorts immediately behind in the second line, three behind them and four cohorts in the fourth line. There was little space between the four lines, which in my opinion made the whole arrangement very vulnerable to enemy missiles.
The plateau at this point was around two miles wide between the tree-covered mountain slopes. On the left were the Gauls, drawn up in three lines, and in the centre were the Thracians — one legion drawn up in three lines on the left next to the Gauls, Spartacus with his ‘pig’s head’, then another legion of Thracians deployed in three lines on his right. On the right wing stood Castus and his Germans, another two legions. The army filled the space between the slopes, so there was no chance of being outflanked. I rode forward with Nergal and Burebista to the ‘Pig’s head’. We left our horses at the rear of the formation and walked through the centuries to the front. The mood among the Thracians was amazingly relaxed considering many might be dead in a few hours. I also noticed that all the Thracians had pila, swords, mail shirts, shields and helmets, while many of the Gauls and Germans had no armour and only clubs for weapons. Clearly Spartacus made sure his own men were the best equipped. But then, as they were his most reliable and loyal troops, this made sense. I found him standing in front of the first cohort with Akmon.
‘Decided to fight on foot, Pacorus?’
‘No, lord. I was going to ask from where you will direct the battle.’
‘From here, of course,’ he replied.
I was horrified. He stood a good chance of being cut down in the first clash. ‘But lord,’ I said, ‘if you are killed then the army is lost.’