‘Mind telling me who you are and what that was all about?’

‘Take me to Caesar,’ Marcus replied, still breathless. ‘I have to speak to him. At once.’

‘You want to speak to the general?’ the centurion asked in an amused tone. ‘I doubt he’d thank me for waking him in the middle of the night.’

‘He might just do that…’ Marcus took a deep breath to calm his nerves and speak clearly. ‘Once you tell him that Marcus Cornelius has escaped, and can show him where the rebel camp is hidden.’

‘Marcus!’ Caesar grinned as he looked up from his campaign desk. ‘I’d given you up for dead. Where did you find him, Festus? The lad looks all but done in.’

‘He was picked up by one of the forward patrols, sir. They were all for throwing him in with the slaves we’ve captured, but he said he had important information for you. So they brought him to headquarters. I was there when they arrived at dawn and recognized Marcus at once. I brought him straight here.’

Caesar gestured to Marcus. ‘You’re shivering. Come, sit by the fire and warm yourself. Festus, give him my cloak, then send for some food, something hot.’

While Marcus eased himself down on a stool in front of the brazier that warmed and lit the tent, Festus crossed to a chest and picked up the heavy woollen cloak. The thought of food made Marcus’s stomach rumble and the need to satisfy his hunger was just enough to put off the need to sleep. A moment later Festus gently placed the cloak over his shoulders and Marcus began to feel comfortable for the first time in many days.

Once Festus had left the tent Caesar turned to Marcus. There was a brief silence before he spoke again. ‘You might be interested to know that this isn’t the first reunion of former comrades. It seems that Lupus survived the avalanche. He was dug out by the rebels.’

‘Lupus is alive?’ Marcus couldn’t help grinning with pleas-ure at the news. ‘Where is he?’

‘With the rest of the prisoners. He was captured following our clash with the rebels.’ Caesar shook his head sadly. ‘I misjudged him. He was not the loyal slave he seemed. Of course, he will be punished in due course, before I send him to work on a chain-gang. Some hard labour on a farm or in a mine might teach him the price of treachery.

At first Marcus did not know what to say. He could hardly believe that Lupus would willingly join the rebellion, but then again, why not? For all the comforts he enjoyed as Caesar s scribe, he was still no more than a piece of property when all was said and done. Perhaps Lupus had grasped that and decided he wanted a taste of the freedom his master took for granted. Marcus was determined to save his friend. ‘Sir, Lupus had no choice. He had to join the rebels or be killed.’

‘It was his duty to refuse. Do not feel sorry for him, Marcus,’ Caesar continued as he read Marcus’s expression accurately. ‘Lupus deserves his fate. You refused to join Brixus and managed to escape. That’s what Lupus should have done.’

‘He was not trained as I was, sir.’

‘That is no excuse as far as I am concerned,’ Caesar replied dismissively. ‘Anyway, enough of Lupus. I intend to forget all about him. It is your story I am interested in. So, you survived the attack on the baggage column. When they could not find your body I hoped you had been taken alive. That was some small comfort given that the tents and food supplies were lost. The only shelter left was this tent. Too big to make off with, I guess. My men have been forced to sleep in the open, and if we do not destroy the enemy within the next few days I will be forced to fall back on Mutina to resupply and begin the campaign again… Unless, of course, this information of yours changes the situation. Well, Marcus, what do you have to tell me?’

Staring into the flames, Marcus struggled to fight off the weariness that fogged his mind. If he revealed the secret of Brixus’s camp, then Caesar would crush the rebels ruthlessly. Brixus and his followers would fight to the end and many thousands would die. The thought of all that bloodshed appalled Marcus and he decided that he must do all he could to prevent it, even if it set him squarely at odds with his former master. He cleared his throat and sat up straight as he turned to face Caesar.

‘I know where the main rebel camp is. That’s where they took the prisoners after the ambush.’

‘You know where they are?’ Caesar’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He smiled coldly. ‘Excellent… Then we have them. The rebellion is as good as over.’ He paused and his eyes narrowed slightly. ‘But I dare say you were not the only prisoner.’

‘There were some others, including Tribune Quintus, sir.’

‘Quintus is alive? I had hoped he would do the honourable thing and die rather than be taken prisoner. He has disgraced himself, and Portia, and therefore my family. If he still lives when this is over, he may as well give up any ambition to pursue a political career. Anyway … If there were others taken prisoner with you, how is it that only you have managed to escape? You had better explain yourself.’

Marcus thought quickly. ‘I was with the others when Brixus and his men returned to their camp. He recognized me and ordered his men to release me.’

‘You know Brixus? You know him and yet you did not seek to inform me of the fact?’

‘I thought you knew, sir,’ Marcus replied innocently. ‘Brixus was at the same ludus as me, until he escaped.’

‘Great Gods!’ Caesar clenched his eyes shut for a moment as if furious with himself for not making the connection. He breathed in deeply before his tense expression eased. ‘All right, so you knew each other. What happened after he released you?’

‘He took me into his tent and we talked.’

‘What about?’

‘He tried to convince me to join his rebellion. He said that this time he will succeed where Spartacus failed. He also asked me about you.’

‘Me?’

Marcus nodded. ‘He knew that you had bought me from Porcino and taken me to Rome to continue my training. He wanted me to tell him what I knew of your character, and your plans for the campaign.’

‘I see. And what did you say?’

‘I told him I did not know the details of your plans. I also said that you were determined to crush the revolt as swiftly as possible, whatever it takes. I said you were not the kind of man to let any obstacle stand in his way.’

Caesar leaned forward across the table. ‘How did he react to that? Did he find it unsettling?’

Marcus paused briefly before he replied. ‘I think so.’

‘Good, then we have him off balance. Anxious men are more inclined to make rash decisions. And it unsettles those who follow them. So what happened next? How did you escape?’

‘Once Brixus had finished talking he left me to sleep. I waited until the rebels had settled down for the night, then crept out of the camp. I had almost got clear when I was spotted by some men on guard. They chased after me, until I ran into your patrol. You know the rest.’

Caesar had been listening attentively and now he smiled. ‘Quite a tale, Marcus. You have been lucky, though you were quick-witted and showed great courage. But I’d expect nothing less from you. By now I think Brixus will be aware of your escape. He will be making plans to abandon the camp and flee. This is the moment to strike. We’ll march on them at first light and bring this matter to a swift conclusion. Tell me, Marcus, where are they?’

This was the moment Marcus had been dreading. He felt his limbs tremble as he forced himself to speak. ‘What do you intend to do, sir?’

‘Why, catch those scum before they can get away. Those we don’t slaughter will be made an example of. Never again will the slaves doubt what awaits them should they turn on their masters.’

Marcus nodded. ‘That’s what I was afraid you would say.’ The triumphant gleam in Caesar’s expression faded and he stared fixedly at Marcus. ‘What are you thinking, my boy? These are slaves we are talking about. Worse, they are rebels. They have destroyed hundreds of farms and fine villas, and murdered thousands of Romans. Do you question my right to destroy them?’