‘We have been. He’s marching this way. Now let me pass. I have to inform Brixus!’

‘Caesar’s coming …’

Marcus felt a mix of hope and anxiety as he heard the news. If his plan was to succeed he must find Caesar as soon as possible, while there was still a chance to prevent a bloodbath. The men in the clearing were talking in low urgent tones that Marcus could no longer make out. But for a brief moment their attention was on each other. Taking a deep breath, Marcus crouched down and moved slowly out of the mouth of the gorge, staying close to the cliff as he made for the trees. It was only a short distance, no more than twenty paces, and he reached the nearest of the pines as the scout party continued towards the camp. The sentries turned and headed back to their stations. Marcus ducked under a heavily laden bough and heaved a sigh of relief as the clearing disappeared from sight. Then the sleeve of his tunic caught on the stump of a broken branch and the whole bough jerked, dislodging a small avalanche of snow.

‘Over there!’ a voice cried out. ‘There’s someone over there! Under that tree. Hey, you, stop!’

Marcus cursed himself for a clumsy fool, but was already in motion, scurrying under the low branches as he scrambled deeper into the trees. As branches swished past him he heard shouting behind, and the crack of twigs as his pursuers plunged into the forest.

‘Don’t let the spy escape!’ a voice ordered. ‘Kill him if you have to!’

Marcus stayed low and ran on, swerving round the tree trunks, barely able to make out the way ahead. He had no idea which direction to head in but kept running, steering away from the sounds of his pursuers. But he knew he was close to exhaustion. Perhaps it would be better to stop, press himself against a tree trunk and keep still while the men passed by. Then he could double back to escape in a different direction. Even as the thought raced through his mind, he knew he dare not risk being caught and killed on the spot, or taken back to Brixus. The veteran gladiator would not forgive his escape attempt. Though Brixus had been a close companion of Spartacus, his first loyalty was clearly to his fanatical hatred of Rome. There would be no mercy shown to anyone who betrayed that cause, not even the son of Spartacus.

That thought gave him an extra burst of energy and Marcus forced himself on, stumbling through the dark forest as the ground beneath his boots began to slope gently down. Behind him, the rebels called to each other as they kept up the chase.