He steered Cato to the side of his mount and helped heave him up on to its back. Then he hurriedly untethered the horse and thrust the reins into Cato's hand before slapping the animal's flank to send it on its way with a shrill whinny. Sempronius mounted his own beast and spurred it on, after the other horse. When he drew alongside the centurion, he glanced at him quickly and saw the grim set of Cato's expression in the twilight. Sempronius felt a heavy weight of guilt settle on his heart. It had been a hard but necessary duty to leave the stricken child, and it had clearly affected Cato far more than himself. The young man had a good soul. He felt deeply, and was not afraid to show it. As Sempronius urged his horse ahead, there was one small grain of comfort he could glean from the situation. That was the realisation that his daughter had chosen her man well.

As night closed in over Crete they rode on, following the main route across the rich agricultural plain to Gortyna. On either side the groves of olive trees, fruit orchards and vineyards stretched out towards the distant hills. Much of the land had been bought up and concentrated in estates, owned by some of the wealthiest men of the empire. While they lived lives of luxury in the cities, the estates were managed for them by stewards. Beneath the stewards were the overseers who commanded the gangs of slaves that toiled from before dawn to dusk. For most of the slaves life was brutal and short and death was a release. Now, though, the situation had changed, Cato reflected. The earthquake had flattened many of the estates, and the slaves would snatch the opportunity to escape, or turn on their former masters.

It was a clear night, and even though a crescent moon and the star-speckled heavens provided dim illumination, Sempronius slowed the pace to a walk.

'No point in having the horses stumble, ' he explained. 'Besides, they could use a rest.'

'So could I.' Cato shifted his buttocks and rubbed a hand on the small of his back. Thenight air was cool, and now he wondered at the wisdom of leaving his cloak with the dying boy. At once he dismissed the unworthy thought and glanced round at the surrounding landscape. The road climbed up on to a low ridge, and as they reached the crest Cato saw a fire blazing across the fields to his right, no more than quarter of a mile away.

'What in the name of the gods is going on over there?'

Sempronius muttered.

Both riders reined in as they gazed towards the lurid red flames licking up into the night. A pyre had been built close to the ruins of a collection of farm buildings. Around it were four stout timbers with crosspieces, from which hung the naked bodies of three men and a woman, close enough to the fire to be scorched by the heat. They writhed in agony and their cries, thin and distant though they were, chilled Cato's blood.

In the glow of the flames, and the stark shadows of those slowly roasting on the crosses, Cato could make out a ring of figures watching spectacle. Some of them carried jars and drank freely from them as they looked on. Others were dancing, while a few lobbed stones at their victims.

Cato swallowed. 'Looks like the slaves are taking their revenge.'

The two of them stared at the grim scene for a moment before the senator muttered, ' The poor bastards.'

'I fear this won't be the last time we witness this kind of thing,' said Cato. 'It will be breaking out across the island, I imagine.'

As they watched, a burly man emerged from the crowd with a mallet and went over to the cross bearing the woman. He knocked out the wedges, keeping the crosses in place, and then, bracing himself against the stake, pushed it towards the fire. The cross lurched over, hung still for a second as the woman thrashed uselessly against her bonds, and then toppled into the blaze in a burst of sparks and a sudden flare of flames that licked up into the night, along with a last scream of pain and terror.

'I've seen enough, ' said Cato. 'We'd best go, sir.'

'Yes... yes, of course.'

Cato tugged his reins to turn the horse back in the direction of Gortyna, and was about to dig his heels in when he saw a figure stroll out on to the road, ten paces ahead.

'And where do you think you're going?' the man called out cheerily in roughly accented Latin. 'Two riders out on the road in the middle of night can't be up to any good.'

Senator Sempronius breathed a sigh of relief at the man's amiable tone, while Cato's sword hand slipped casually down to his thigh.

'You'd better get out of here, ' said Sempronius. 'There's a slave gang on the loose nearby. You should escape while you can.'

'Oho!' the man called back and took a few paces towards the riders.' From the sound of your voice, you must be part of the quality, a very proper Roman and no mistake.'

'I am a Roman official, ' Sempronius acknowledged. 'I have to get to Gortyna as swiftly as I can, so I'd ask you to step aside, my good man, then we can all be on our way'

The stranger was close enough now for Cato to make out some detail. He was tall and broad with unkempt hair and a beard, and dressed in a ragged tunic. A long club swung from his hand. He laughed as he lifted the club and let it rest on his shoulder.

'The thing is, this here road belongs to me now, and I've decided to charge a toll for road users.' His tone hardened. 'Beginning with you two. Now, get off those horses and hand them over. The horses and anything else of value you have on you.'

'What?' Sempronius stiffened in his saddle.' How dare you?'

As the man had been speaking, Cato was aware of movement either side of the road, and now he could see several figures closing in around them. His fingers tightened around the handle of his sword as he spoke quietly. 'Sir, we're in trouble. Draw your sword.'

'Trouble?' Sempronius looked round and froze as he saw men emerging from the shadows, each one holding a club, or pitchfork, and all as ragged as the first man. There was a swift clatter as the two Romans snatched out their swords and held them ready.

'Now then, don't push your luck, gentlemen,' the man said evenly.

'No sense in anyone getting hurt. There's far more of us than you. You put up any fight and I swear I'll gut you both. So, nice and easy like, throw your swords away and get off those horses.'

Cato's heart was pounding and there was the familiar icy tingle on the back of his neck that came before a fight. He gritted his teeth and growled, 'Since you've been good enough to play fair by us, I'll give you one warning. Get out of our way.'

There was a moment of stillness as the two Romans stared intently at the men surrounding them, then some one roared:

'Get 'em, lads!'

The shadows raced towards the horsemen. Cato kicked his heels in.' Ride, sir!'

Sempronius urged his mount forwards, but he was an instant slower to react than Cato, and before his horse had gone ten feet the man had snatched at the reins, while others rushed in from the side.

'Cato! Help!'

Cato twisted round in his saddle and saw the senator slashing wildly with his short sword at the figures flitting around him.

'Shit!' Cato hissed, and savagely wrenched the reins as he swerved his mount round. With his sword arm tensed he charged back into the loose melee about Sempronius. The horse let out a snort as it barged into the man holding the reins, and Cato slashed out with his sword in a wide arc, forcing the other men back. Then he gripped tight with his thighs as he swung across to the other side and hacked down at the hands still grasping the reins of Sempronius's horse. The blade thudded down, cutting flesh and shattering bone, and a shrill scream tore out of the man's lungs as he fell back staring in horror at his nearly severed hand. Cato leaned forward and snatched up the reins before pressing them towards the senator. 'Here!'