Lupus could hardly believe what he had heard. When it did finally penetrate his confusion, he looked up with a surge of hope. ‘I’m free?’

Mandracus nodded. ‘Of course. Do as you wish. I will not stop you. After all, if you want to escape from me, you would simply run back to slavery. But there is one thing I would know. I want the name of your leader. I have a debt to settle with him. What is his name?’ he demanded.

‘Gaius Julius Caear.’

‘The consul?’ Mandracus could not hide his surprise. ‘That was him?’

‘Not any more. His term of office is over. He’s a proconsul now,’ Lupus explained. ‘On his way to take up a new command.’

‘Then what is he doing in the mountains? With such a small escort? Explain.’

‘Before he leaves for Gaul, Caesar has been tasked with putting an end to Brixus and his rebels.’

‘Oh, really?’ Mandracus smiled. ‘Tell me, how close are you to your master?’

Lupus struggled to his feet and stood proudly before the man. ‘I am Caesar’s scribe. I’ve served him for many years.’

‘Good. Then I’m sure you’ll have plenty to tell Brixus when I take you to him. He’ll want to know all he can about his enemy. Who else was in your party?’

‘No one of importance. Just his bodyguards.’

‘What about the other boy?’

‘Marcus?’ Lupus shrugged. ‘Not much to say. He’s my friend. Marcus was training as a gladiator when Caesar bought him.’

A strange gleam appeared in Mandracus’s eyes as he muttered to himself. ‘A boy gladiator... Where was he training? Which school?’

‘Porcino’s school in Capua is what he said.’ Lupus frowned. ‘Why do you want to know?’

‘I’ll tell you later. But first we must find Brixus. He’ll be keen to hear all that you’ve told me, and more.’ Mandracus looked round at the survivors. ‘Perhaps this was worth it,’ he mused as he turned his attention back to Lupus. ‘Perhaps Brixus is right. The time has come to raise the standard of rebellion, and Spartacus, once again ...’

8

Ariminum was a small town on the east coast of Italia, with a modest port where the river entered the sea. On either side a broad beach of brown sand stretched out for several miles. The water was shallow for a good distance out and Marcus could see why wealthy Romans came here to rest and play in the summer months. But in winter the town reverted to being a quiet backwater where occasional cargo ships dropped anchor and the local fishermen sat on the sand in the shelter of their beached boats, carefully examining their nets. A mile to the north lay the camp of the army that Caesar had been appointed to command.

The twenty thousand men of the four legions occupied an area that dwarfed the nearby town. The camp was in the shape of a vast square, with one legion assigned to each quadrant. A low perimeter wall and ditch surrounded the city of tents, with towers at regular intervals and a fortified gate halfway along each side. Two wide thoroughfares intersected at the heart of the camp where the largest tents stood. Around them stretched row after row of goatskin tents, each shared by eight legionaries. Outside the camp, thousands of men were engaged in drilling and weapons practice.