Ben Kane: Spartacus: Rebellion

Maron made another grumbling noise as he snuffled at her breast.

‘Is he sick?’

Ariadne looked up. She managed a half-smile. ‘No, he’s just tired, and upset. And hungry.’

‘Like us all,’ replied Carbo with a sigh.

‘We should be grateful to be alive. If it wasn’t for you and the others-’

‘I didn’t do much,’ he said, waving a dismissive hand.

Ariadne remembered the pack of terrified men who’d come pounding towards them as they had reached the edge of the camp. They probably hadn’t even known who she and her two companions were. The fact that they had been blocking the path eastward, the only direction not filled with Roman troops, had been enough for the deserters to threaten them. Shoving her and Maron to the rear, Atheas and Aventianus had prepared to sell their lives dearly. Ariadne had begun to pray for a quick death when, from nowhere, Carbo had appeared behind the gang. Drenched in blood, screaming like a lunatic, he had cut down two men with savage thrusts of his gladius. The rest had taken to their heels. ‘You saved our lives, Carbo,’ she said quietly.

His gaze slid away.

She touched his arm. ‘It’s true. I cannot thank you enough.’

‘I left Spartacus behind,’ he muttered. And Arnax. The boy had probably got away, he told himself yet again. The same couldn’t be said of his leader.

‘It’s pointless torturing yourself. It wasn’t for you to choose the way he died, any more than it was mine.’

Carbo was shocked out of his own grief for a moment.

‘Spartacus was his own master. You must respect his decision to die fighting. As, somehow, must I.’ Her gaze grew distant. Deep in her gut, Ariadne worried that her dream of the crucifixes would now come true. If it did, she prayed that Spartacus would not have suffered that degrading fate. That was why she had not seen him, she thought, trying — and failing — to wrest certainty from the dream.

‘I do respect it,’ he protested.

She saw that there was more. ‘You think that you should have died with him.’

Carbo didn’t answer, but the agony in his eyes said it all.

‘What would have happened to me and Maron if you’d done that?’

‘I don’t know,’ he replied uneasily.

‘I think you do. Can you not remember the group of deserters that attacked us?’

No answer.

‘Is that the end you would have wanted for me? For Spartacus’ son?’

‘Of course not!’

‘Doing what you did — leaving him — means that Spartacus’ memory will live on. Not just in men’s hearts and minds, but in real flesh and blood.’ She caressed Maron’s head. ‘Is that not a worthwhile deed?’

He stared at the baby, his face twitching with unreadable emotion. ‘Yes,’ he muttered. ‘It is.’

‘I cannot think of a finer legacy. A better way to ensure that Rome’s victory was not total. Can you?’ The words were to assuage her own savage grief as much as to help Carbo. To Ariadne’s ears, they rang hollow. That might not be the case for ever, but for the moment she knew that if it weren’t for Maron, she might have already given up.

Carbo’s lips finally tugged into a smile. ‘Crassus would hate to know that Spartacus’ son was alive.’

‘He would.’ She touched Maron’s smooth cheek, and he redoubled his efforts on her breast. ‘That is why he must never know about him.’

Their conversation was disturbed by Aventianus. ‘Pssst!’ He pointed beyond the clearing. Hearing movement in the undergrowth, Carbo ushered Ariadne into the shelter. He ran to join Aventianus. They both drew their swords, hoping that it was one of the group.

When Atheas emerged, they both smiled with relief. Their expressions changed the instant they saw the man limping behind the Scythian. Covered in spatters of blood, without a helmet but still carrying his sword, it was Navio.

Carbo’s heart leaped with joy. He darted to his friend’s side. ‘The gods be thanked. You made it!’

Navio rubbed at the dark rings beneath his eyes. ‘I don’t know how. I tried hard enough to die.’

‘I found him… by the river,’ said Atheas. ‘Just lying… looking at nothing.’ Muttering an excuse, he set about starting a fire.

‘We saw you. Well, saw your position. You held the left flank for an age,’ said Carbo.

‘The men did well,’ admitted Navio. ‘It was the damn artillery that did for us. That, and the fact that the cavalry couldn’t cross the ditches. They were too deep, too wide. Crassus was damn clever to think of that. He must have heard about Sulla doing it at Orchomenus fourteen years ago.’ He let out a hacking cough. ‘What happened to you?’

In a low voice, Carbo explained. When it came to the final moments before he’d fled, his voice cracked. ‘He said that he was proud to fight beside a Roman. I’m sure he meant you too.’

A spark lit in Navio’s dead eyes. ‘Well, I was proud to serve a slave.’

‘And I.’

They were quiet for a moment. Their leader’s face filled their minds.

‘I didn’t run,’ blurted Carbo. He was intensely grateful for Navio’s accepting nod. ‘He asked me to go, to see that Ariadne and the baby were safe.’

‘Ariadne’s here?’ cried Navio.

‘I am. And Maron. I’ve just put him down for a sleep.’ She ducked out of the shelter and approached them, smiling faintly. ‘I am glad that you survived, Navio.’

He gave her a respectful half-bow. ‘Jupiter be praised that you and the baby are unharmed. Atheas first, and then Carbo… I had not thought to hear even more good news. Since waking after the battle, I’ve wondered why the gods let me live. Now I know.’

‘Tell us your story,’ urged Carbo.

Navio studied each of their faces, and then looked away. ‘We had held our ground for some time, which was no mean feat considering how many troops Crassus threw at us and the fact that the cavalry couldn’t help. Things got worse when the enemy artillery’s volleys suddenly got heavier. Maybe it was as the left flank was giving way, I don’t know. One thing was certain, though: the bastards didn’t mind hitting their own men. The barrage went on and on. My troops withstood it for a time, but they finally cracked. I couldn’t hold them.’

‘In a situation like that, no one can,’ said Carbo.

‘That doesn’t make it any easier,’ said Navio with a heavy sigh. ‘I managed to rally together about thirty soldiers, and we kept fighting. It didn’t take long for most of us to be cut down.’ His eyes went dark. ‘I was left with a man either side of me. I felt like Horatius on the bridge, except there was no river to jump into. A rock must have hit me soon after that, and knocked me unconscious. When I woke up, I found that my helmet was split in two. There was a body half across me. It was dark. The battle was over. I could hear men screaming, begging to die. Checking that there were no Romans about, I managed to get up. I began searching for anyone who might have been trapped like me. All I found were those heading for Hades. I helped more than a few of them on their way. I wandered like that for a long time, hoping that I’d be discovered and killed. There was no point in living after what my soldiers had done. After we’d lost.’ His eyes flickered to them. ‘I feel differently now. But at the time-’

‘I can imagine what you must have been going through,’ said Ariadne with feeling. If it weren’t for Maron…

‘So can I,’ said Carbo. ‘What happened next?’

‘The most crazy thing. I–I found Spartacus’ helmet. It had to be his. No one else in the whole damn army had a Phrygian one like it.’

Beside Carbo, Ariadne went very still. ‘Did you find his body?’ he whispered.

‘No. I searched and searched, but it was as black as the underworld. There wasn’t even a moon. The bodies were heaped everywhere, so many of them. They all looked the same. I kept going until it began to grow light…’ Navio’s words ground to a halt.