The Gladiator

Sempronius frowned and Macro burst into laughter before he could stop himself. For a moment the senator continued frowning, then gave way to the impulse and joined in. With all the strain of the previous days and the grave concerns over the arrival of the slave army before the hastily repaired walls of Gortyna, it did both men good to laugh. When it had died away, Macro topped the other man's cup up with wine and raised his own in a toast.

'To Cato. May he prove big enough for a tribune's boots, and return to us at the head of a great army'

'I'll drink to that.'

'And me.' Julia raised her cup. She took a sip and then spoke softly.

'By the gods, I miss him so much.'

Macro nodded. He didn't want to say anything for fear of seeming to miss a comrade more than was properly acceptable. All the same, he mused, he would rather have Cato at his side as he prepared the hotch-potch of defences and defenders to face the enemy.

Sempronius drank from his cup and then set it down.' How are things coming along, Macro? Those new men proving to be of any use?'

'They're doing well enough. Most have managed to work out which end of a sword to hold. They'll never make good soldiers, or even adequate ones, in whatever time we have available to us before the rebels decide to attack. I've appointed Centurion Micon to command them. It'll give him a chance to redeem himself. All in all they won't amount to much, but they'll be better equipped than most of the slaves they'll encounter.'

'Although you can be sure that this man Ajax will have distributed the kit he recovered from the bodies of Marcellus and his men.'

'That's true,' Macro conceded. 'In which case, I give Centurion Micon's lads no better than an even chance when it comes to a fight.'

Sempronius sighed wearily.' Not a great help, then.'

'I can only hope they prove me wrong.'

The conversation was interrupted by three distant blasts on a trumpet, the alarm signal that Macro had arranged. He rose quickly to his feet, followed by the others, and abandoned the meal as they made their way out of the administration building and across the acropolis to the tower above the main gate. Men were stumbling out of their barracks, kit in hand, and racing to their positions on the wall. Macro ran up the worn stone stairs and emerged on to the platform, hurrying across to the parapet. Below him the city sprawled across the plain. One of the men who had been on watch thrust his arm out towards the west.

'Over there, sir.'

Macro shaded his eyes as he stared into the setting sun. At first the glare concealed the approaching enemy from sight. He was surprised that the rebels were coming from the west. Marcellus's column had been massacred away to the east. Where had they been? he wondered. Then he dismissed the concern as his eyes began to pick out the details of the enemy marching across the plain towards the city. There were two columns, one making directly for Gortyna and the other angling to the south to march round the city and take up position to the west, Macro guessed.

'Ajax has finally decided to take the bull by the horns.'

'Yes,' Sempronius replied, panting as he caught up. 'So it seems. An apposite metaphor, by the way'

'Really?' Macro glanced at his superior.

'This is the island where bull-leaping had its origins, Macro. In the old times, that was the phrase used to describe the moment when the acrobat was ready to face a charging bull and grabbed its horns at the last moment before somersaulting over the bull's back.'

Macro stared at the senator for a moment. Cato was going to have a lot in common with his prospective father-in-law. The two of them were sure to spend many long winters' evenings together swapping such useless nuggets of information. He sighed. 'That's fascinating, sir.'

Julia glanced sidelong and smiled at Macro as her father continued.

'The trouble is that the metaphor is the wrong way round. It is we who are facing the bull, not Ajax. And I fear that unless we are all as nimble and determined as the proverbial acrobat, we are going to be ground into the dust by the first charge.'

Macro shook his head.' No, sir. I ain't going down that easy. The rebels are just slaves. They lack training and there's no question of them having any siege equipment. For the moment, we have the advantage.'

'I hope you are right.'

They continued to watch as the slave army deployed around the city. The clouds of dust kicked up by their feet and the hooves and wheels of the sprawling baggage train filled the air with a warm orange haze. Sempronius told his daughter to remain on the acropolis while he and Macro made their way down to the city gate to inspect their opponents more closely. Macro made a hasty calculation of the size of the enemy force before the light made estimation too difficult.

The slaves marched in loose bands of varying size, and here and there amongst them the rays of the setting sun gleamed off burnished helmets, armour and weapons.