The Gladiator - Scarrow Simon (бесплатная регистрация книга txt) 📗

Once that had been fed by rainwater from the roof, but the earthquake had left a large crack in the bottom, and now it was dry and filled with cracked plaster, dust and a handful of smashed tiles that had fallen in from the roof. He made his way towards the best bedroom in the house, where Chilo lay on a soft bedroll. Despite having the windows open on both sides of the room, the air was warm, and as Ajax approached, a sickening tang assaulted his nostrils.

He hid his distaste as he knelt down beside Chilo.

Chilo's skin was waxy and glistened with perspiration. He lay with a fine robe covering his body as far as his chest, hiding his wound.

Sensing the gladiator's presence, he opened his eyes, struggled to focus and forced a smile.

'General, I wondered when you'd come to see me.' He spoke softly, a slight rasp to his words.

'I was here just a moment ago.'

'Were you?' Chilo frowned. 'I can't remember.'

'It's the poison in your blood,' Ajax explained. 'It's playing tricks with your mind.'

'Ah.' Chilo reached out his hand and took that of Ajax. His touch was hot and feverish, and Ajax forced himself not to recoil. Chilo smiled. 'Well you are here now, at the end.'

'Yes.'

'It's been too short a time to have known you, my general.'

'And you, my friend.'

'Friend?' Chilo smiled contentedly.' Thank you.' His eyes moistened and he looked away.

'There's no shame in tears, Chilo. We have seen enough suffering in our time to justify a river of tears.'

Chilo nodded. 'Suffering, and joy.'

'Joy?'

'I found you, my general. You gave me freedom, and revenge.'

Ajax felt his throat constrict with a slight burning sensation. He swallowed before he could trust himself to speak. He leaned forward slightly and stroked the lank hair plastered to Chilo's scalp.

Chilo suddenly clenched his eyes tightly shut and grimaced, and his body went rigid. His fingers clamped tightly round Ajax's hand as he fought the wave of agony burning through his body. Slowly it passed and he went limp. The pulse in his neck throbbed as sweat trickled from his brow. At length his breathing be came calm and his gaze flickered back to Ajax.

'I'm sorry.'

'You have nothing to be sorry for.'

'I cannot fight at your side any more.'

'I know. I will not forget you.' Ajax paused. 'You saved my life.

Why?'

'Why?' Chilo frowned. 'Because you are as a brother to me.'

Ajax nodded slowly. 'I must go now. I'll come back later and we can talk again.'

'Thank you.' Chilo glanced across the room to where his armour and weapons still lay against the wall. 'Before you go, could you bring those over here, beside the bed.'

Ajax glanced at the weapons. 'Why?'

'My sword still has Roman blood on it. If I feel strong enough, I might want to clean the blade.'

Ajax stared at him a moment and then nodded slowly. 'Very well.'

He collected the weapons, and Chilo's mail vest, and laid them gently on the floor beside him. 'There.'

'Thank you,' Chilo replied softly, as he stared fixedly at the ceiling.

With a heavy heart Ajax headed towards the door, pausing on the threshold. 'I will see you again, my brother.'

'Yes,' Chilo replied, and then whispered. 'In this life... or the next.'

Outside, Ajax stood still for a moment, won de ring if he should go back to Chilo. It took all his strength of will to resist the notion.

Chilo was in great pain and he was dying. If he chose to end his life then so it was. He was free to decide. That was what he had given his life for. Even so, there was a great heaviness in the gladiator's heart, which soon turned to bitterness and hatred. He looked towards the cage, where the children had given up poking the prisoners with sticks and now squatted down at arm's length to watch the Romans and laugh at their wretched condition.

'Get away from there!'

He started towards them and the children hurriedly rose to their feet and scampered off into the camp. Ajax continued on towards the cage, an iron construction six feet long by four feet in height and depth. There was not much room for the occupants, and there was no shelter from the elements. At night they shivered in the cold air, and by day they were tormented by the sun. Their clothes had been taken from them so that they now sat in their own filth. Ajax had ordered that they not be harmed, and they were fed and watered just enough to keep them alive. His nose wrinkled at the stink of their shit and piss as he rested a hand on top of the cage and leaned towards it so that he could watch the two prisoners, a man and a woman, sitting on opposite sides.

'How are my guests feeling today?'

The man looked up at him without replying and the woman drew up her knees as she stared fixedly at the ground. Ajax smiled at them.

'Oh come now, surely the accommodation can't be that bad? You know, when I was first sold into slavery I spent the first month of it in a cage smaller than this, with two other men. By now I think you can imagine what that must have been like. But imagining a thing is not the same as enduring it, as you are discovering.'

Neither of the prisoners stirred and Ajax stared at them for a moment, until the woman shuffled round and turned her back on him. Ajax laughed and then squatted down so he could stare across the cage into the man's face. His hair was dark and matted with a crust of dried blood from the blow to the skull he had received at the time of his capture.

'How is your head today, Centurion? Or should I call you prefect these days?'

Macro did not reply.

'You've obviously done well since we first met. A centurion of marines you were then, and now look at you. The commander of the garrison of Gortyna. Of course, your rise through the ranks has been rather eclipsed by my own. From slave to general in a matter of days.'

'Some general.' Macro spat on the ground beside him. 'You're nothing more than a brigand. And you call this rabble an army?' He nodded to the camp outside the cage.

'Oh, we haven't done so badly. It's not as if you Romans have covered yourself in glory since the rebellion began. Wouldn't you agree?'

Macro stared back at him.' You must know this can only end one way. An army will come to Crete and crush you and your followers.

So far you have only faced men from the auxiliary cohorts, second-rate troops at that. You cannot hope to defeat the legions.'

'We shall see,' Ajax replied. 'Meanwhile, I am the master of Crete.

Or will be, once Gortyna is taken and the governor joins you in this cage.'

'What do you intend to do with us?' Macro asked quietly. 'You must know that we are no use to you as hostages. Sempronius will not surrender if you promise to spare us.'

'I know that. I made the offer yesterday and he turned me down.'

Ajax turned towards Julia.' Not straight away, you'll be glad to hear. I could see him struggle over the decision. It's not an easy thing to lose a daughter... or a father.' He glanced back at the farmhouse.' Ora friend.'

Macro followed the direction of his gaze.' The man who saved your life. How is he?'

Ajax took a sharp breath and glared at Macro. 'Dying, or dead.

What does it matter to you?'

'It's not personal, who I kill on the battlefield,' Macro explained.

'But we are not on the battlefield any longer. It was a brave thing he did. Admirable. I would be sorry to hear that he had died.'

'Of course, the professional respect of one soldier for another.

But aren't you forgetting something? My friend was a slave, not a soldier.'

'Slave or soldier, what does it matter?' Macro responded wearily.

'When a man picks up a weapon and faces you in a fair fight, what else matters? Surely you of all people must understand that, Gladiator.'

'Don't call me that!' Ajax said fiercely. 'I am no longer a gladiator, Roman. I fight for myself and I fight for my people. I would rather die than fight to entertain the mob again.'