Cato 09 - The Gladiator by Simon Scarrow

Author:Simon Scarrow [Scarrow, Simon]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2011-09-27T05:51:44+00:00

In addition to the improvements to the city’s defences, Macro took charge of recruiting men to supplement the fighting strength of the auxiliaries. At first Sempronius had appealed for volunteers, but when fewer than a hundred of the city’s menfolk turned up at the parade ground Macro had marked out a short distance beyond the wall, sterner measures were called for. Several sections of auxiliaries were sent out to scour the city for fit men and have them marched out to the parade ground. There, they were brought before Macro, where he made his selection of those he would use to bolster Gortyna’s garrison. Details of each man’s name, family, home street and occupation were carefully noted before he was presented to Macro, sitting at a campaign table under an awning.

It was dispiriting to see a succession of unhappy or angry men who were capable of bearing arms but resented the opportunity to defend their families and their city. One such was a tall, well-muscled young man in an expensive tunic. His dark hair was neatly cut and a finely trimmed beard graced his jawline. At first Macro could not place him, then in a sudden flash he recalled that he had been amongst Glabius’s coterie up on the acropolis the day the tax collector had been deposed.

‘Name?’

‘Pandarus, son of Polocrites.’

Macro glared at him. ‘From now on you call me sir. Is that understood?’

‘I see no need to call you sir, Roman.’

‘And why is that?’ Macro smiled invitingly.

‘Because I am not a soldier, nor will I ever be. Furthermore, I will protest about my treatment here through the highest channels. My father has political contacts in Rome. Once they are informed that a lowly officer has dared to pluck a free man from his home and forcibly conscript him at the point of a sword, there will be no limit to the retribution that is brought down on your head.’ Pandarus was pleased with his brief monologue and offered a placating smile to Macro. ‘It’s not too late to put an end to this sad little drama of yours. Comedy, more like.’ He turned and gestured to the line of men standing in the sun, waiting to be seen by Macro. There was a muted chorus of support. ‘Let us all go, and I will do you a favour, Roman, and not report your criminal activities to your superiors in Rome.’

He drew himself up and crossed his arms as he stared down at Macro. The latter stared back for a moment and then lowered his stylus on to the wax slate with a weary sigh.

‘Have you finished, Pandarus?’

‘Finished?’ Pandarus frowned, then became angry. ‘You don’t think I’m serious, do you?’

‘Oh, I’m sure you’re serious; it’s just that I am not inclined to take you seriously’ Macro replied. ‘I mean, look at you. Dressed up like a cheap tart. Is that perfume I can smell?’

‘It is a male scent. An extremely expensive scent.’

‘So you look like a male tart, and you smell like one.

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