Read Online Gladiator: Son of Spartacus by Simon Scarrow - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Simon Scarrow
Tags: General Fiction
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saddle and holding his blade to the side of the horse’s flank, level and ready to strike.
Caesar’s order had taken the brigands by surprise. Their leader was forced to leap aside as Caesar’s mount charged directly towards him. The rest of his men were slower to react and the horsemen were in among them before they could get out of the way. The air filled with the thud and clash of blades and spears, and grunts as men struck out with all their strength. Cries of pain and triumph echoed from the cliffs either side of the pass, along with the whinnies of the horses.
Marcus, his heart beating wildly, urged his mount into the swirling confusion of the fight. He glimpsed Mandracus springing back to his feet and raising his axe as he charged at one of the bodyguards. The man saw him at the last moment, too late to react, and the head of the axe slammed down into his thigh, cutting through flesh, muscle and bone. The rider howled with agony and slashed back with his sword, striking a weak blow on his enemy’s shoulder. Most of the impact was absorbed by the wolfskin, and the thick folds of the tunic I beneath, but it still drove Mandracus to his knees. Gritting his I teeth in agony, the rider kicked his good heel in and looked I for another attacker.
Marcus urged his mount into a gap between two of the riders and made for a man with a spear who had worked his way round behind Festus and was raising the weapon to strike. Leaning forward in his saddle, Marcus slashed his sword at the butt of the spear, knocking it down so that the tip swished harmlessly over Festus’s shoulder. The leader of Caesar’s bodyguard caught the blur out of the side of his eye and instantly wheeled his horse round, slashing down at the man who had tried to kill him, and laying open his arm. Another cut to the shoulder put the brigand out of action.
Meanwhile Caesar was surrounded by Mandracus s men and he pulled hard on the reins to make his horse rear up and lash out with its hoofs, forcing his opponents back. It was impossible to keep them all at bay and even as Marcus watched, he saw one of them stab a pitchfork into the horse s rump. A shrill whinny cut through the air and the beast lashed out with its rear legs, catching the man to send him flying. Marcus flicked his reins and drew up alongside Caesar, lashing out with his sword to keep the others back. Caesar acknowledged his presence with a swift nod.
‘We have to get out of here. Those horsemen will join the fight any moment.’
Marcus glanced round, past the men locked in combat, and saw the other riders racing up the incline towards them, no more than a hundred paces away. Once they reached the pass it would all be over.
‘Festus!’ Caesar called out above the din of the fight. ‘All of you, on me! On me! We must cut our way through!’
The bodyguards edged their mounts closer to Caesar and formed a loose ring. Looking round, Marcus could see that one was missing, and then he saw a group of brigands bending towards the ground beside a horse with an empty saddle. They were hacking and stabbing at the man on the ground, their weapons dripping with blood each time they came up for another blow. The bodyguard with the wounded leg was swaying in his saddle and moaning through clenched teeth as blood coursed from his wound, splashing on to the snow like exotic flowers. Lupus, who had managed to stay with Marcus, held his dagger up as a snarl distorted his features.
Mandracus had worked his way round to return to his position astride the road leading into the pass. He bellowed to his men to form up either side of him. Those who could did as f they were ordered, chests heaving as their breath plumed in the freezing air.
Caesar glanced round at his men, then thrust his sword I forward. ‘Stop for nothing! Go!’
The small party of riders burst into a gallop, and at the last moment the courage of the brigands failed and most tried to dive out of the way. A handful of the braver men
Caesar’s order had taken the brigands by surprise. Their leader was forced to leap aside as Caesar’s mount charged directly towards him. The rest of his men were slower to react and the horsemen were in among them before they could get out of the way. The air filled with the thud and clash of blades and spears, and grunts as men struck out with all their strength. Cries of pain and triumph echoed from the cliffs either side of the pass, along with the whinnies of the horses.
Marcus, his heart beating wildly, urged his mount into the swirling confusion of the fight. He glimpsed Mandracus springing back to his feet and raising his axe as he charged at one of the bodyguards. The man saw him at the last moment, too late to react, and the head of the axe slammed down into his thigh, cutting through flesh, muscle and bone. The rider howled with agony and slashed back with his sword, striking a weak blow on his enemy’s shoulder. Most of the impact was absorbed by the wolfskin, and the thick folds of the tunic I beneath, but it still drove Mandracus to his knees. Gritting his I teeth in agony, the rider kicked his good heel in and looked I for another attacker.
Marcus urged his mount into a gap between two of the riders and made for a man with a spear who had worked his way round behind Festus and was raising the weapon to strike. Leaning forward in his saddle, Marcus slashed his sword at the butt of the spear, knocking it down so that the tip swished harmlessly over Festus’s shoulder. The leader of Caesar’s bodyguard caught the blur out of the side of his eye and instantly wheeled his horse round, slashing down at the man who had tried to kill him, and laying open his arm. Another cut to the shoulder put the brigand out of action.
Meanwhile Caesar was surrounded by Mandracus s men and he pulled hard on the reins to make his horse rear up and lash out with its hoofs, forcing his opponents back. It was impossible to keep them all at bay and even as Marcus watched, he saw one of them stab a pitchfork into the horse s rump. A shrill whinny cut through the air and the beast lashed out with its rear legs, catching the man to send him flying. Marcus flicked his reins and drew up alongside Caesar, lashing out with his sword to keep the others back. Caesar acknowledged his presence with a swift nod.
‘We have to get out of here. Those horsemen will join the fight any moment.’
Marcus glanced round, past the men locked in combat, and saw the other riders racing up the incline towards them, no more than a hundred paces away. Once they reached the pass it would all be over.
‘Festus!’ Caesar called out above the din of the fight. ‘All of you, on me! On me! We must cut our way through!’
The bodyguards edged their mounts closer to Caesar and formed a loose ring. Looking round, Marcus could see that one was missing, and then he saw a group of brigands bending towards the ground beside a horse with an empty saddle. They were hacking and stabbing at the man on the ground, their weapons dripping with blood each time they came up for another blow. The bodyguard with the wounded leg was swaying in his saddle and moaning through clenched teeth as blood coursed from his wound, splashing on to the snow like exotic flowers. Lupus, who had managed to stay with Marcus, held his dagger up as a snarl distorted his features.
Mandracus had worked his way round to return to his position astride the road leading into the pass. He bellowed to his men to form up either side of him. Those who could did as f they were ordered, chests heaving as their breath plumed in the freezing air.
Caesar glanced round at his men, then thrust his sword I forward. ‘Stop for nothing! Go!’
The small party of riders burst into a gallop, and at the last moment the courage of the brigands failed and most tried to dive out of the way. A handful of the braver men
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