The Gladiator

The small column trotted off along the narrow road. A hundred paces from the gate, the route began to climb towards the hills and be came a well-worn track where countless mule trains had passed by before. When they reached the crest of the first hill, Macro turned in his saddle and looked back. The city was outlined by the ring of torches and braziers flickering along the wall. More torches and lamps twinkled amid the houses and ruins and up on the acropolis.

On either side of the city sprawled the camp fires of the rebel army, and as Macro cast his experienced eye over the size of the enemy camps and quickly estimated their strength, he wondered if Cato's relief column would be strong enough to fight its way through to Gortyna, let alone launch a campaign to crush the rebels. When the real contest came, it would pitch the training and equipment of Roman legionaries and auxiliaries against overwhelming numbers and fanatical desperation. Macro could not guess at the out come of such a conflict; it was quite unlike any other he had experienced.

They continued into the hills, and Macro's senses were finely strained as he kept glancing ahead and from side to side, all the time listening for any sound that might alert his suspicion. They had travelled perhaps five miles when he detected the first hint of dawn to the east; a faint luminosity in the night sky that outlined the mountains more clearly. The track had merged with a dried-out river bed. Steep rocky slopes rose on either side. Macro raised his hand. 'Halt.'

The others reined in as Macro turned his horse round and nodded to Julia. 'We've come a fair distance from the city. I doubt there will be any rebel patrols this far into the hills. There's nothing for them to scavenge up here. Good luck, miss.'

'Thank you, Macro,' she replied quietly and glanced towards the horizon. 'You should have turned back before now. It'll be light long before you return to Gortyna.'

'I'll be all right. It'll take them a while to get over the kicking we gave themearlier.'

'I hope so.'

There was a brief silence as they looked at each other, then Julia leaned across to kiss him on the cheek. 'Take care, Macro. Give my love to Cato when he reaches Gortyna.'

'I will.' Macro was still flushing from the embarrassment of being kissed in front of the escorts. 'He'll be glad that you're somewhere safe. As soon as it's all over, he'll come and find you.'

She nodded, and then Macro nudged his heels in and moved on towards the optio leading the escort. 'You clear about your orders?'

'Yes, sir.' The optio went on to intone his instructions. 'We make for Cnossos, and if the rebels come north we take a ship to Athens, where the senator's daughter is to be placed in the care of the governor.'

'Very good. Now you'd better get moving.'

They exchanged a salute, and Macro spurred his horse into a trot as he rode down the column. The optio gave the order to advance and Macro heard the horses' hooves clop forward again, but he did not look back. Julia was safe, and he was needed back in Gortyna. In truth he should have remained there, but the senator had insisted on his seeing his daughter on her way. Even though he resented the order, Macro realised that it would help put Sempronius at his ease, and the senator could ill afford any distractions now that Ajax and his rebel horde were camped before the walls of the province's capital.

He continued back down the river bed and up on to the track as it turned sharply round a large rock, passed through a small forest and began to descend. The air was cold and he breathed in the sharp scent of the pine trees as he calmly contemplated the danger he was riding back into. As soon as Ajax had got over the failure of his initial assault, he would be quick to realise that his best chance lay in stretching the defenders' resources. A co-ordinated series of attacks on the most damaged sections of the wall was bound to be rewarded, with a breakthrough somewhere. One breach was all that the rebels would need; then they would flood into the city and massacre anyone who failed to reach the acropolis in time.

Macro was so intent on his thoughts of the coming siege that he heard the enemy scouts before he saw them. There was a sudden shout and he reined in abruptly and stared about in a moment of panic. The path was traversing the side of a hill and the trees fell away sharply to his left. A short distance ahead, the track bent round and zigzagged down the hillside. Two hundred paces below, Macro saw a large party of horsemen, perhaps as many as fifty of them, riding along the track, dressed in dull brown and grey tunics and cloaks.

One of them had seen him and was pointing directly up as he called out to the others. They stopped and looked up, and located Macro's red cape in an instant. The leader shouted a command, and at once his men spurred into a gallop and raced up the track.