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Chapters (43)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. By Simon Scarrow
  4. Dedication
  5. Acknowledgements
  6. CHAPTER ONE
  7. CHAPTER TWO
  8. CHAPTER THREE
  9. CHAPTER FOUR
  10. CHAPTER FIVE
  11. CHAPTER SIX
  12. CHAPTER SEVEN
  13. CHAPTER EIGHT
  14. CHAPTER NINE
  15. CHAPTER TEN
  16. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  17. CHAPTER TWELVE
  18. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  19. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  20. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  21. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  22. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  23. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  24. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  25. CHAPTER TWENTY
  26. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  27. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  33. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  34. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  35. CHAPTER THIRTY
  36. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  37. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  42. EPILOGUE
  43. AUTHOR’S NOTE

The last of the renegades melted away from the dying glow of the last few houses still alight and disappeared into the darkness engulfing the track that led out of the village. Aside from the occasional crack of a bursting timber in the night and the faint chirrup of some insects in the swamp beyond the dyke, the only other sounds were the agonised groans and cries of the wounded.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

‘What the bloody hell’s been going on here?’ asked Macro, glancing round at the ruined houses and bodies as he marched up to Cato. ‘Looks like you’ve had quite a fight.’

Cato had retrieved his sword and sheathed it as he nodded a greeting to Macro. He noticed that his hand was trembling, and it took all his self-control to ease the blade back into the scabbard without dropping it. The truth of it was, he was scared, Cato scorned himself. When Ajax had ripped the sword from his hands and driven him back under that powerful rain of sword blows, Cato had been sure that he was a dead man. Nothing could stand between Ajax and his vengeance. The gladiator had been like some wild force of nature, unleashed and implacable. Cato had been only moments away from his death when that mortally wounded renegade had stumbled between himself and Ajax. It had been as close as that, Cato mused in horror. He regarded his friend with an ashen expression and then blinked and nodded.

‘Yes . . . Quite a fight.’

‘What happened? I saw some men making off as we arrived. Ajax?’

Cato nodded. ‘He still lives. I wounded him. His men drew him away when they saw you.’

Macro stared down the street. ‘Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go after the bastard before he gets away.’

‘No,’ Cato responded firmly. ‘Not now.’

‘Why the fuck not?’ Macro’s brow furrowed. ‘We’re as close to him as we’ve been in months.’

‘We wait until first light,’ Cato said firmly.

‘What?’

‘That’s an order,’ Cato snapped. ‘I’ve lost enough men to ambushes already without blundering about in the darkness. I’ll not gift Ajax any more Roman lives than I can help. We rest here tonight. Tend to the wounded and let the men slake their thirst. Ajax and his band are just as tired, and have their own wounded to take care of. They’ll not go far in this darkness. We can continue the pursuit at dawn.’

‘This is madness,’ Macro said quietly.

Cato stiffened and drew a calming breath. ‘You forget yourself, Centurion.’

‘My apologies, sir,’ Macro hissed through gritted teeth. ‘But we have to go after them.’