The Gladiator

'It's just that you were snoring so loudly'

'Snoring?' Macro shook his head guiltily. 'Bollocks. I was just mumbling to myself.'

'With your eyes closed.'

Macro frowned at her. 'I can do two things at once, you know, miss.'

'I'm sorry, Macro. I meant no offence. You must be exhausted after all that we've been through. As are we all.'

'Where are my bloody ma

'Thank you.' She let out a deep sigh. 'So, then, where is my father, and Cato?'

'Gone, miss.'

'Gone?'

'To Gortyna. Soon as we got here we heard that the governor, his staff and senior officers were caught up in the earthquake. Killed most of ' em outright. Your father said he had to take charge of things at once. He and Cato took two of the horses from the stables and left as soon as they could.'

'Typical,' Julia said with a trace of bitterness.' No last word for me, then?'

'Er, not as such, no.'

'And Cato?'

'Oh, he said to be sure to send you his love and that I was to take care of you until he got back.'

Julia stared at Macro and shook her head. 'You're a poor liar, Macro. Better leave that sort of thing to people who are trained for it, like my father.'

'If you say so.'

Julia looked round the office and then through the window towards the hillside opposite the acropolis. A handful of fires had already been lit and tiny figures clustered about the glow of the flames. 'I could hardly believe what I saw on the way up here,' she said quietly. 'I thought we had had it bad on the ship. But this?'

'We did have it bad on the ship, miss. We're lucky to be here. But you're right, it must have been terrifying when it struck the port.

Portillus told me there was a bloody great roar and a rumbling sound, and then the buildings started to shake and collapse, the weakest and oldest ones first. Naturally, that was where the poorest people in Matala were packed in. Thousands of them are buried under the ruins. Then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Poor souls who were left alive must have thought it was all over.' Macro shrugged.

'Until the wave hit the port, and swept up through the gorge some distance, destroying everything and everyone in its path. Portillus reckons that as many again were drowned as had died in the earthquake.'

Julia stared at him for a moment, then she shook her head and muttered, 'Dear gods...What can they have done to deserve this?'

'Who knows the will of the gods?' Macro yawned. 'But whatever the people of Crete have done to piss them off, they've paid a high price.'

Julia glanced out through the window, her mind still struggling to take in the scale of the destruction she had seen on the way up from the ship. It was impossible to imagine that many more towns and cities had shared the fate of Matala. Suddenly she froze. 'Do you think it's over? Do you think it could happen again?'

'I've no idea, miss. I'm just a soldier, not a soothsayer.' Macro leaned forward and tried to sound reassuring as he continued.

'There's been no more tremors since we arrived. We can only pray to the gods to spare us any more suffering.'

'Yes, there is that. If you really think prayers can help.'

'Well, they can't hurt.'

'I suppose not.' Julia was quiet for a moment before she fixed her gaze on Macro again.' Do you think they're safe out there? My father, and Cato?'

'Don't see why not. They have their swords, and people have too much on their minds already without causing them any trouble.

They'll be fine, miss. Cato's a tough lad. He'll see that your father gets through to Gortyna, and then they can start sorting things out. Trust me, Cato knows what he's doing. They'll be all right.'

CHAPTER SEVEN

What the hell did we think we were doing?' Cato growled through clenched teeth as the senator tied his neck cloth tightly about the wound. 'We should have waited until light before setting off.'

'Shhh!' Sempronius glanced nervously at the surrounding trees.

'They might have followed us.'

'I doubt it. We must have covered at least two miles before the horse gave out.' Cato paused as another burning spasm shot through his leg. When it had passed he let out a deep breath and continued.

'I'm sure they'd have given up the chase long before then.'

'Let's hope so.' Sempronius tied off the knot and checked the makeshift dressing to ensure it would not slip. 'There. That should do it. It's my fault, Cato. I should have slowed the pace once we were clear. It was madness to keep galloping along the road in the dark like that. It's a miracle your horse didn't fall earlier on, or mine.'

'Well, we've only got the one now ' Cato smiled grimly. 'So no question of galloping anywhere.'

They had abandoned Cato's wounded horse back on the road where it had collapsed, bloody froth in its mouth and nostrils.

Sempronius had hauled Cato up behind him and they had continued another mile before taking a narrow track off into a grove of pine trees and then stopping to tend to Cato's wound. The prong had passed through the muscle at the back of his leg without striking bone, or severing any major blood vessels. The wound was bleeding freely, but despite the pain, Cato found that he could still bear weight on his leg. He walked a few paces to the spot where he slumped down and let Sempronius examine and dress the wound as best he could in the dim light cast by a crescent moon and the stars.

Sempronius eased himself back and sat on the ground clasping his hands together in his lap. 'What do you think we should do now?'

'I don't fancy blundering into any more gangs of renegade slaves.

Best to wait until first light when we can see the way ahead and avoid any trouble.'

'Yes, you're right.' Sempronius turned his head to look back in the direction of the road. 'Are you sure they were slaves?'

'I think so. They were all in rags, and we were near that estate where we saw...' Cato flinched at the memory and cleared his throat noisily. 'They must have gone to the road looking for easy pickings. We were lucky to get away. If those slaves, and what we saw back there, are typical of what is happening elsewhere on the island, then we've got more of a problem than I thought.'

'How so?'

'What if we find ourselves fighting a slave revolt?'

'A revolt? I don't think so. There's bound to be some temporary disorder. It's only natural that they would take advantage of the situation to turn on their overseers. Once they've drunk themselves insensible and woken up with a hangover, I'd be willing to bet they'd have no idea what they want to do next. Some might run off into the hills to try and join the brigands, but the rest will drift around the estate until some one comes along and sorts them out.'

'You think so?' Cato said doubtfully. 'I think you underestimate the danger, sir.'

'They're only slaves, my boy. Chain - gang slaves - the lowest of the low, little better than beasts. Trust me, they have no experience of making their own decisions. Without overseers to lead them, they won't have a clue what to do about the situation.'

'I hope you're right. But what if they did find a leader amongst their ranks? What then?'

'They won't. I've been on enough estates in my time to know how they operate. Any one showing an ounce of spirit or independence is either sold off to a gladiator school, or broken and punished as an example to the rest. We'll have them back in hand before long. Once the ringleaders responsible for that sickening display we witnessed have been identified and rounded up, they'll be crucified and their bodies left to rot. I think that'll teach the rest a lesson they won't forget for a long time.'