Simon Scarrow - Gladiator

‘What are you doing?’ Livia asked in alarm.

Marcus did not reply, but clapped a hand to his thigh as he glanced at Cerberus. ‘Come!’

The two of them rushed out of the hall into the rain. On the other side of the courtyard Marcus could see that his father had almost managed to shut the gate. But by the time Marcus reached him, the first of the attackers was squeezing through the gap.

‘Father! Your sword!’ Marcus held it out, hilt first.

Titus snatched it, threw his left shoulder into the gate and thrust his blade around the edge. There was a howl of pain and the pressure on the gate eased momentarily, allowing Titus to push it back several more inches. Marcus braced his feet and added his weight against the door.

‘Marcus! Get out of here,’ his father growled through gritted teeth. ‘Run. Take your mother and run. Don’t stop for anything.’

‘NO!’ Marcus shook his head, his heart torn. ‘I’m not leaving you.’

‘By the Gods! Do as I say!’ Titus’s angry expression crumpled into fear and anxiety. ‘I beg you. Run. Save yourselves.’

Marcus shook his head again, his feet scrambling on the wet ground as he tried to help his father. On the other side, the attackers were steadily forcing their way in. Cerberus stood behind his master, barking wildly. Inch by inch, Marcus and his father were being forced back. Titus tried the same trick as before, stabbing round the corner of the gate, but this time they were ready and his blade was parried away with a sharp ring of metal on metal. He hurriedly drew his arm back and looked down at Marcus.

‘We can’t stop them. We have to fall back. Grab Aristides’ staff, then be ready to fight when I step away from the gate.’

‘Yes, father.’ Marcus felt his heart beating wildly. Despite the rain coursing down his face, his mouth felt dry. Was this how soldiers felt in battle? he wondered briefly. Then he ducked down, scurried around his father and snatched up the staff lying beside the body of Aristides. His eyes met those of the nearest of the men outside. The man’s lips parted in a sneer and he reached a hand towards Marcus.

‘Cerberus! Take him!’

The dog responded to the command at once, pouncing through the gap and jumping up to seize the man’s hand in his powerful jaws. He bit down hard and bone and flesh were crushed between his teeth. The man screamed and tried to snatch his hand back but he could not break free. Marcus called out again.

‘Cerberus! Leave!’

The dog released its grip and backed away, snarling. With a last fruitless thrust of the gate, Titus paced backwards to his son’s side and went into a crouch, sword held ready. ‘Hold the staff like a spear,’ he said hurriedly. ‘Strike at their faces.’

Marcus nodded and tightened his grip as the gate, with no resistance from the inside, suddenly flew open. Two of the men fell sprawling into the courtyard. Titus leapt forward, striking one with a vicious cut to his shoulder. The bone cracked as the blade bit in. Then he yanked it free and slashed to the side, slicing into the face of the other man. He toppled to his side, hands clutched to his head as he howled in agony. More men spilled through the gap, and one of them thrust his sword at Titus. The veteran just managed to parry it in time, but was caught off-balance and had to fall back a pace.

Marcus stepped up and thrust the staff into the face of the man who had tried to strike a blow. He felt the impact jar his arms, right up to the shoulder. The man’s head snapped back and he fell to the ground, unconscious, his nose crushed by the end of the staff.

‘Good work!’ Titus yelled, his lips drawn back in a frightening grin.

For a moment the other attackers hesitated, but then Thermon’s voice sounded from the back. ‘What are you cowards waiting for? Get them!’

As they rushed forward, Marcus yelled. ‘Cerberus! Take ’em!’

There was a blur of drenched fur as the dog jumped in, snapping at legs and hands. But there were too many of them. They came forward in a mass. Titus managed to strike once more, thrusting deep into a man’s belly, before he took a spear point in his shoulder. He stumbled back, then another man hacked at his sword arm and the blade cut through, shattering the bone. The sword dropped from his fingers. Another blow caught him in the knee and with a grunt he slumped down.

‘Father!’ Marcus glanced round, lowering the staff a little. He stared at his father in terrible anguish.

‘Keep your weapon up!’ Titus bellowed. ‘Face front!’

His booming voice caused the attackers to pause, and they stood back, in an arc around him, weapons poised. Marcus was at his father’s side, staff raised once again, daring them to take him on. Cerberus had sunk his teeth into another man and was savaging his arm until the man, who was wielding a long club, swung it down and smashed it on to the dog’s head. Cerberus dropped to the ground and lay on his side, his head in a puddle, as the rain splashed around his muzzle.

‘Cerberus!’ Marcus called out in horror – but the dog lay still. Marcus wanted to go to him, but just then Thermon pushed his way through his men and stood in front of Titus.

He smiled cruelly as he patted the flat of his sword against the palm of his spare hand. ‘Well now, Centurion, it seems the situation is reversed. How does it feel to be beaten? To lose your final battle?’

Titus looked up, blinking away the rain. ‘You can’t get away with this. Once the governor hears what you’ve done, he’ll have you crucified. You, your men here and Decimus.’

Thermon shook his head. ‘Only if someone is left to tell the governor what happened.’

Titus stared at him for a moment and then muttered, ‘You wouldn’t dare.’

‘Really?’ Thermon pretended to look surprised. Suddenly he swept his sword arm out and thrust with all his strength. The tip of the blade punched into Titus’s chest, burst through his heart and crunched against the ribs in his back. Titus let out a gasp and then a deep sigh. Thermon braced his boot against Titus’s shoulder and yanked his blade free.

‘Father!’ Marcus looked down in disbelief as his father’s body slumped against his leg and then Titus toppled face first on to the ground. ‘Father!’ Marcus cried shrilly. ‘Don’t die! Don’t leave me! Please… Please don’t die.’

At once someone snatched his staff away. Rough hands grabbed him by the arms and pinned them to his sides.

There was a scream. Marcus turned and saw his mother, hands clasped either side of her head as if she was trying to shut out a bad sound. She screamed again. ‘Titus! Oh my Gods! Titus…’

‘Take her!’ Thermon ordered. ‘Put ’em all in chains. Then search the place for any valuables. Decimus wants anything that can be sold.’

Marcus looked down at his father’s body, numbed by what he saw. But then, as one of Thermon’s men strode towards his mother, he felt something snap inside. He bit down on the arm of the man holding him. The man cried out and loosened his grip, and Marcus snarled as he clamped down with his jaws and lashed out with his feet.

Thermon turned towards him. ‘Someone deal with that little brat.’

The man with the club, the one who had struck down Cerberus, nodded and turned towards Marcus. Without a moment’s hesitation he raised the club and swung it at the boy’s head. Marcus never felt the blow. His world suddenly exploded into white and then there was nothing.

At first Marcus sensed a dull pounding pain in his skull. Then there was an uneven jolting and the regular shrill squeal of an axle. He became aware of light, and warmth on his face, and he slowly stirred, blinking his eyes open. The world was blurry and juddered about and he felt sick, so he closed them again.