The Gladiator

'Stand your ground!' Ajax yelled again, but it was too late. Fear passed through the rebels like a wind, and a tide of men flowed into the night, back through the camp, as they ran to save their lives. Ajax watched them go, and his heart set like lead in his breast. He suddenly felt a terrible burden of weariness settle on his shoulders and he turned to face the oncoming Romans.

'General!' Kharim shouted. 'What shall we do?'

'Do?' Ajax shook his head. 'All is lost. There is nothing we can do but die with a sword in our hands.'

'No!' Kharim edged his horse alongside Ajax and grabbed his arm. 'General, you still live, and while you live you can keep the fight against Rome alive. If you die now, then it has been for nothing.

While you live, the rebellion is not finished.'

Ajax turned and looked at him with a bleak expression. 'What can I hope to achieve now, my friend?'

Kharim thought quickly. 'We have hostages. We can still make a deal if we escape with them. There are some fishing boats in a small cove not far from your tent.'

For a moment Ajax wanted nothing more than a quick death. But then the sense of Kharim's words penetrated his mind. The Parthian was right: the rebellion would never be over while some men kept the spirit of it alive in the hearts of the empire's slaves. He must escape, and take the hostages with him.

'Very well.' He nodded to his comrade. 'We will go. Come!'

He turned his horse and beckoned to his bodyguards, and then began to ride back through the camp around the end of the bay, towards his tents on the peninsula beyond. On all sides the rebels gathered up their families and loot and fled from the approaching Romans. Ajax spared them a moment's pity. The trap was closed.

There would be no escape for them, only death or a return to slavery.

Three of the ships were on fire by the time Cato and his men had cleared the decks of the anchored vessels. Only two of the rebel fire parties had managed to set their ships ablaze before taking to their tenders and escaping towards the shore. The fire had spread to the third ship and all three now threatened the rest of the vessels anchored in the bay.

'Atticus!' Cato called the optio over. 'Gather up twenty men. We have to cut those ships out before the fire spreads any further.'

Cato turned and, with Vulso and Musa, made his way across the intervening vessels to the one next to the nearest burning ship. The heat from the flames roaring up from the vessel's hold struck him a stinging blow, and he raised an arm to protect his face as he looked around. Two lines joined this ship to the one ablaze.

Cato crouched down in the shelter of the ship's side to give his orders. 'You two take the aft line. I'll go forward.'

Crouching low, he scrambled to the hawse hole near the bows and drew his dagger. The cable was made from coarse hemp and was thick as a man's wrist. He began to saw at it furiously. The deck around him was brightly lit by the burning ships and the hot air was filled with the roar of flames and the crack of timber bursting from the intense temperature generated by the blaze. Sparks and glowing shreds of sails swirled through the air, and Cato winced as one landed on his back.

He shook it off and continued cutting at the rope, hoping that they could complete the job before the fire spread to any more of the grain ships. One of the strands of the cable parted and the tension instantly increased on the remaining strands, making themeasier.to cut.

Gritting his teeth, Cato worked at them with every ounce of his strength, the edge of the dagger biting through the dense material.

Another strand parted and one remained, thin and hard as bone.

'Come on, you bastard,' Cato muttered. 'Break.'

With a dull crack the dagger severed the last strand and the end of the cable vanished through the hole. Cato rose up and squinted into the heated air as he waited for the burning ship to drift away.

Glancing aft, he saw Vulso and Musa running towards him.

'Cable's cut, sir,' Vulso called out. 'But she's not moving off.'

Cato nodded. 'I saw. We'll have to fend her away' He pointed to one of the sweeps lashed to the ship's side. 'We can use that. Come on!'

They hurriedly untied the simple fastenings holding the long oar in place and then manhandled the broad-bladed end over the rail, against the side of the other vessel.

Cato took a firm grip on the shaft and braced his feet. 'All right then, heave!'

The three of them leaned into the long oar with all their might.

Slowly, slowly, Cato sensed the other ship begin to give, and he shuffled forward a pace and called out,'She's moving! Keep at it!'