Son of Spartacus by Simon Scarrow

Author:Simon Scarrow [Scarrow, Simon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, War & Military, Historical, Fiction
ISBN: 9780141338750
Google: -n9sXqYnJdwC
Publisher: Penguin UK
Published: 2013-02-07T00:00:00+00:00

14

Lupus had been ordered to remain in a simply constructed shack close to the main compound in the heart of the rebel camp. With each passing day he grew more fearful. Despite Mandracus’s kindly treatment of him and the promise that he would never be a slave again, Lupus felt he was treated like a prisoner. From the door of his shelter Lupus could see the largest hut in the camp — the one belonging to Brixus, he had discovered. Constructed from crudely cut stone with a manure and mud mixture pressed into the gaps for weatherproofing, and the thatched roof overhanging the walls, it was quite unlike the fine villas of Roman aristocrats, but palatial under the circumstances. A dozen men armed with spears and shields stood guard round the compound, with one assigned to watch over Lupus.

He was eventually summoned by the rebel leader one evening and taken to wait outside Brixus s hut until given permission to enter. The rosy glow of the sun slipped behind the rim of the mountains, and the valley was plunged into shadows as the failing light took on a blue hue. Around Lupus the rebels built up their fires, but none made any attempt to light them as they squatted down, waiting while the sunlight faded.

Lupus began to shiver, and after a moment he addressed the man escorting him. ‘Why don t they ever light the fires during the day?’

The man nodded up at the sky. ‘Smoke. We light a fire and there’s a danger that the smoke is seen and someone gets curious enough to come and investigate. So there are no fires until nightfall. Under strict orders from Brixus. Anyone who disobeys gets flogged publicly.’

‘Oh ...’ Despite Mandracus s early reassurance that no harm would come to him, Lupus felt scared of the people around him. Now it seemed that their leader was a man who, despite proclaiming their freedom, ruled his followers with ferocious discipline. The cold mountain air penetrated Lupus’s cloak and tunic, and he stamped his feet on the ground as he felt his limbs begin to grow numb. He found himself thinking about Marcus and the others, who would probably be sheltering from the night in some comfortable house in Ariminum by now. As he thought of his friend, Lupus felt a stab of sorrow. Marcus would not be as afraid as he was, or at least would not show it. He had strength and courage, and Lupus knew that he could have coped with his present situation far better with Marcus at his side. But Marcus was not here. Nor were Festus or Caesar. Lupus was alone and no doubt his former companions thought him dead, buried beneath the avalanche. For a moment Lupus felt tears of self-pity in his eyes, but cuffed them away quickly, angry with himself for being weak. Marcus would never let himself feel afraid like this, Lupus told himself. He must be more like his friend. Show no fear, and win the respect of the men who had captured him.

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