Gladiator: Son of Spartacus Read Free Page B

your masters, or you can seize your freedom here and now. Be your own master. Taste the sweet air of freedom. Of course there is a price, as with all things that are worth having. You will have to fight to stay free. Better to fight on your feet than spend your life grovelling on your knees to some fat Roman pig. What is your death now but simply an end to suffering? An end to a life that has no value. Together we can stop this. Have freedom instead of slavery. But only if we have the courage to fight for that freedom. Who here will join me?’
    ‘Me!’ a voice cried out and was instantly echoed by many others. The old man looked over his shoulder and shook his head in dismay.
    When the shouting had died down Brixus spoke again. ‘Brothers and sisters, the age of slavery will soon come to an end. The bands of rebels will join together and the dream of Spartacus will become a reality.’
    ‘Spartacus is dead!’ the old man shouted back.
    'Yes, he is dead,’ Brixus acknowledged. 'But his dream lives on. And more than his dream. The bloodline of Spartacus continues. Soon, very soon, the rebels will be united and fighting together under one banner and one leader, and that leader will be one who is fit to assume the mantle of the great Spartacus, for he is none other than his son! He will lead us and fulfil the destiny and dream of his father, the same dream that is shared by every slave in the Roman Empire.’
    ‘The son of Spartacus?’ The old man shook his head. ‘It’s not possible. I was there. He had no son.’
    ‘The son was born shortly after the end of the rebellion. He bears the secret mark of Spartacus. I have seen it. I have met the boy.'
    The crowd had fallen silent, listening to his words with rapt attention, hope burning in almost every face.
    ‘Where is he?’ some cried out. ‘Where is the boy?’
    ‘I know where he lives,’ said Brixus. ‘He follows in the footsteps of his father, and already it is clear that he will become as great a gladiator as Spartacus in his time. Greater perhaps. He is still young. But when the time comes he cannot avoid his destiny. He will answer the call, and lead us all to freedom!'
    ‘Freedom!’ his followers shouted and the cry was echoed by the newly liberated slaves. Even the old man joined in, his eyes sparkling with emotion. Brixus allowed the cheering to continue for a while before he raised his hands and called for silence.
    ‘There is one last task before we leave this place tonight.’ He turned and pointed to the steward and his family. ‘We must show the Romans what fate lies in store for those who would oppress their fellow man. Bring me the youngest boy.’
    One of his men strode over to the family, grabbed the boy’s arm and wrenched him away. He struggled to free himself, reaching out a hand towards his mother as her face wrinkled with grief. The steward held her back as he spoke clearly and defiantly to his son.
    ‘Show no fear to these scum. No tears. Remember, you are a Roman.’
    Brixus laughed, and some in the crowd jeered.
    Set in front of Brixus, the boy stood as tall as he could manage and tried to look calm and defiant.
    ‘Are you afraid of me?’ asked Brixus.
    ‘You should be. What is your name?’
    'Lucius Pollonius Secundus. Though you can call me young master.’
    Brixus smiled. ‘Arrogant to a fault. You are a true Roman. The question is, are you a clever Roman, Lucius? Do you think you can remember every detail of what has happened here tonight?’
    ‘I shall never forget it.’
    ‘That is true.’ Brixus nodded. Then he turned to Taurus. ‘Crucify the others. This one is to be chained to the foot of his father’s post. He will be the one to tell Rome that a new rebellion is coming, and this time the heir of Spartacus will lead us to victory, and the annihilation of Rome.’

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    ‘Do you think Caesar will win the vote?’ asked Marcus as he looked in through the window of the Senate House.
    As usual with any important vote,