Spartacus: Rebellion Read Online Free PDF

saw Spartacus, uninjured, among them, Ariadne’s knees buckled with relief. She was grateful for Atheas’ hand, which gripped her arm until she regained her strength. ‘They’ve done it again.’
    ‘He is . . . great leader.’
    Ariadne let the women stream past towards their men, waiting until Spartacus reached her. Taxacis, who was with him, called out happily to Atheas in his guttural tongue. Carbo nodded at Ariadne, who was so pleased that she almost forgot to respond.
    Without being told, Spartacus’ men moved away from her, allowing them some privacy. They chanted his name as they went, and Ariadne could see their fierce love for him in their eyes. Spartacus was carrying his helmet under one arm and, like his soldiers, he was spattered from head to toe in gore. It gave him an aura of invincibility, she thought: that somehow, amid the madness and destruction of battle, he had not only killed his enemies but led his men to victory, and survived. Amid the crimson coating his face, his grey eyes were still striking. There was a glowing rage in them, however, that held Ariadne back from doing what she wanted, which was to throw herself into his arms. ‘You won.’
    ‘We did, thank the Rider. Our volleys of javelins caught them unawares, and they never recovered from our initial charge. Their centre broke. Our cavalry swept their horse away, and then took their flanks in the rear. It was a complete rout.’
    ‘You don’t seem that happy. Did Gellius get away?’
    ‘Of course. He ran like a rat escaping a sinking ship. But I don’t really care about him.’ Spartacus tapped the bag hanging from his waist. ‘It’s this, and what it means.’
    Ariadne caught the whiff of decaying flesh, and her stomach turned. ‘What is it?’
    ‘All that’s left of Crixus,’ Spartacus grated. ‘His head and his right hand.’
    Horror engulfed Ariadne. ‘How—’
    ‘Before the battle began, a conceited bastard of a tribune rode up and tossed them down in front of me. Gellius wanted it to panic our men, and it did. I rallied them, though. Fired their anger. Offered them revenge for those who had fallen.’
    ‘Was it many?’
    ‘More than half of Crixus’ army.’ Spartacus’ eyes lost focus. ‘So many lives lost unnecessarily.’
    Ariadne just felt grateful that Spartacus was alive. ‘They left of their own free will.’
    It was as if he hadn’t heard her. ‘I intend to hold a funeral in their remembrance tonight. There will be an enormous fire, and before it, we shall watch our own munus .’ He saw her enquiring look. ‘But the men who’ll take part won’t be slaves or gladiators. Instead, they’ll be free men. Roman citizens. I think Crixus would like that. My soldiers certainly will. An offering of this magnitude will please the rider god and Dionysus. It should ensure that our path to the north remains open.’
    ‘They’ll fight to the death?’
    He barked an angry laugh. ‘Yes! I thought four hundred would be a good number. They can fight each other in pairs. The two hundred who survive the first bouts will face one another; then the one hundred, and so on, until a single man is left standing. He can carry the news to Rome.’
    Ariadne was a little shocked. She had never seen Spartacus so ruthless. ‘You’re sure about this?’
    ‘I have never been surer. It will show those whoresons in Rome that we slaves can do as we wish. That we are in every way equal to them.’
    ‘They won’t think that. They’ll just think that we are savages.’
    ‘Let them think what they will,’ he responded sharply. Spartacus’ battle rage had been replaced by a cold, merciless fury. It was a feeling that descended upon him occasionally. When Maron, his brother, had died in screaming agony, his body racked with the poison from a gut wound. When Getas, one of his oldest friends, had run on to a blade meant for him. And most recently, just before the battle against the consul Lentulus. He took a deep breath, savouring