go and look for Lupus. As he slipped the latch and entered the room Marcus saw that his companion was already awake, sitting on his bedroll as he worked a sharpening stone up and down the edge of his sword. He paused and looked up at Marcus.
‘He’s not come back,’ said Marcus. ‘What are we going to do?’
‘Do? Nothing.’
Marcus raised his eyebrows. ‘Nothing? What if something has happened to him?’
‘If that’s the case, then what could we do about it?’
‘Go and look for Lupus. What else?’
‘I see, we go and look for him in the dark, in the streets of a town we don’t know.’ Festus continued sharpening his sword as he tutted. ‘What good will that do? Be patient, Marcus. We just have to wait for him to return. Sit down and rest.’
Despite his concerns Marcus knew Festus was right. He forced himself to return to his bedroll and lie down. But he could not sleep. Instead he lay with his eyes open, staring at the rafters of the room. Every so often there was a soft scuttling noise as a rat scurried across one of the beams, the only sound to interrupt the rhythmic scrape of the stone grating along the edge of Festus’s sword. Outside dusk closed in around Stratos and then night fell over the town. Unable to see his blade, Festus finally set it aside and there was silence for a moment before he spoke.
‘Marcus.’
‘Yes?’
‘If we find Decimus, what are your plans?’
Marcus took a deep breath. ‘I will kill him.’
‘What if he has Thermon with him? And others? He is sure to be guarded.’
Marcus remembered the cold-blooded killer that Decimus used for his most dangerous tasks. It was Thermon and his men who had killed Titus and kidnapped Marcus and his mother.
‘Makes no difference,’ Marcus responded. ‘One way or another, I’ll find a way to get close enough to stick a blade in Decimus’s heart. He’ll see me and know that I have had my revenge.’
‘And then what?’ asked Festus. ‘His guards will cut you down. You’ll be killed.’
‘I don’t care.’
‘No? Maybe not. But your mother will. She’ll be left alone in the world. Grieving for you, and your father.’
She had been grieving for Marcus’s real father for many years already, Marcus reflected. She had never forgotten Spartacus, and once Marcus had discovered the truth about his past, those moments in his childhood when he had seen her look at him and quietly weep suddenly made sense. With a stab of guilt he realized that if he acted as recklessly as he wanted, then he would only add to her misery. Marcus sighed in frustration.
‘Listen to me, Marcus.’ Festus spoke softly in the darkness.Only his outline was dimly visible against the drab gloom of the plastered wall. ‘Sometimes in this life, we must be prepared to take only those opportunities that are genuinely offered to us. We have to deny ourselves the goals we desire, however strong the urge. I should have tried to teach you that when I was training you for Caesar. But he only wanted you to be good with weapons.’
‘It’s not surprising. That’s all I was to Caesar, a weapon. Little more than a tool for him to use.’
‘That’s true, I suppose,’ Festus conceded. ‘But he did admire you. There was something he saw in you that set you apart from others. That’s what he told me. Something special …’
Not for the first time Marcus felt a tingle of icy fear trace its way down his spine. Nothing escaped the attention of his former master. Although he might not know the truth about his real father, Caesar had his suspicions that there was more to his past than Marcus had revealed to him.
‘You are free now, Marcus,’ Festus continued. ‘Free to choose what you will do with your life. You do not have to be a slave to the desire for revenge. There is only death awaiting you if you choose to pursue Decimus. That would be a waste. Worse, a tragedy. I urge you to think again. Whatever Decimus has done to you and your family, your first
‘He’s not come back,’ said Marcus. ‘What are we going to do?’
‘Do? Nothing.’
Marcus raised his eyebrows. ‘Nothing? What if something has happened to him?’
‘If that’s the case, then what could we do about it?’
‘Go and look for Lupus. What else?’
‘I see, we go and look for him in the dark, in the streets of a town we don’t know.’ Festus continued sharpening his sword as he tutted. ‘What good will that do? Be patient, Marcus. We just have to wait for him to return. Sit down and rest.’
Despite his concerns Marcus knew Festus was right. He forced himself to return to his bedroll and lie down. But he could not sleep. Instead he lay with his eyes open, staring at the rafters of the room. Every so often there was a soft scuttling noise as a rat scurried across one of the beams, the only sound to interrupt the rhythmic scrape of the stone grating along the edge of Festus’s sword. Outside dusk closed in around Stratos and then night fell over the town. Unable to see his blade, Festus finally set it aside and there was silence for a moment before he spoke.
‘Marcus.’
‘Yes?’
‘If we find Decimus, what are your plans?’
Marcus took a deep breath. ‘I will kill him.’
‘What if he has Thermon with him? And others? He is sure to be guarded.’
Marcus remembered the cold-blooded killer that Decimus used for his most dangerous tasks. It was Thermon and his men who had killed Titus and kidnapped Marcus and his mother.
‘Makes no difference,’ Marcus responded. ‘One way or another, I’ll find a way to get close enough to stick a blade in Decimus’s heart. He’ll see me and know that I have had my revenge.’
‘And then what?’ asked Festus. ‘His guards will cut you down. You’ll be killed.’
‘I don’t care.’
‘No? Maybe not. But your mother will. She’ll be left alone in the world. Grieving for you, and your father.’
She had been grieving for Marcus’s real father for many years already, Marcus reflected. She had never forgotten Spartacus, and once Marcus had discovered the truth about his past, those moments in his childhood when he had seen her look at him and quietly weep suddenly made sense. With a stab of guilt he realized that if he acted as recklessly as he wanted, then he would only add to her misery. Marcus sighed in frustration.
‘Listen to me, Marcus.’ Festus spoke softly in the darkness.Only his outline was dimly visible against the drab gloom of the plastered wall. ‘Sometimes in this life, we must be prepared to take only those opportunities that are genuinely offered to us. We have to deny ourselves the goals we desire, however strong the urge. I should have tried to teach you that when I was training you for Caesar. But he only wanted you to be good with weapons.’
‘It’s not surprising. That’s all I was to Caesar, a weapon. Little more than a tool for him to use.’
‘That’s true, I suppose,’ Festus conceded. ‘But he did admire you. There was something he saw in you that set you apart from others. That’s what he told me. Something special …’
Not for the first time Marcus felt a tingle of icy fear trace its way down his spine. Nothing escaped the attention of his former master. Although he might not know the truth about his real father, Caesar had his suspicions that there was more to his past than Marcus had revealed to him.
‘You are free now, Marcus,’ Festus continued. ‘Free to choose what you will do with your life. You do not have to be a slave to the desire for revenge. There is only death awaiting you if you choose to pursue Decimus. That would be a waste. Worse, a tragedy. I urge you to think again. Whatever Decimus has done to you and your family, your first
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