Read Gladiator: Vengeance for Free Online Page B

found. It was a while before it dawned on Marcus that he had been reading through documents in date order. He paused and looked up at the shelves, counting back to where he had started.
    ‘Of course!’
    ‘Shhhh!’ Festus hissed.
    ‘Sorry.’ Marcus pointed to the shelves. ‘I’ve worked it out. Each shelf, starting from the top left, represents six months. Which means that the one we are looking for is …’ Marcus counted the shelves silently and then pointed. ‘It should be that one.’
    He crossed to it from the desk and bent down to retrieve the documents. Placing them in the light of the lamp’s flame he opened a scroll and pointed to the date. ‘There. It’s the same year, two months from the date we were kidnapped by Thermon’s men.’
    Festus replaced the documents he had been looking at and began to sift through those Marcus had brought to the table. They examined them eagerly and Marcus felt a rising sense of excitement as he wound his way through the scroll on which Pindarus had neatly completed his log at the end of each day. Then he stopped.
    ‘Here it is …
Arrival of cart with six slaves; two Nubians (nameless), two boys from Lesbos (Archaelus and Demetrius), one woman (Livia), her son (Marcus). Placed in cell XIV for auction next day.
’ Marcus looked up triumphantly.
    ‘Read on,’ Festus ordered. ‘Does it say anything about Decimus?’
    Marcus began to wind the scroll, then stopped and looked up quickly.
    ‘What’s the matter?’
    ‘I heard something. Outside in the corridor.’
    Festus turned towards the door as a shuffling noise came closer. Then the handle turned and the door swung inwards. Blocking the door frame was Pindarus, in a flimsy linen nightshirt, oil lamp in hand. His flabby jaw dropped in astonishment as he stared wide-eyed at the two figures poring over the documents on his desk.
    Festus reacted first, throwing down the waxed slate he was examining as he snatched out his dagger and raced towards the door.
    His movement broke the brief spell and Pindarus lurched backwards, screaming in a high-pitched voice. ‘Help! Thieves! Murder!’



6
     
    ‘Quiet, you fool!’ Festus snapped as he chased after the auctioneer. Marcus dropped the scroll and raced after his friend. Outside in the corridor he saw Festus with the bulky outline of Pindarus a short distance in front as he rushed into the garden.
    ‘Help! Help!’
    Festus sprinted another few steps and launched himself at Pindarus. He landed on the man’s back, knocking him forward. The auctioneer let out a cry of terror as he fell face first against an urn. There was an explosive grunt before he lay still, with Festus sprawled on top of him. Marcus rushed over as Festus rolled to the side and came up in a crouch, dagger held out to one side, ready for action. But there was no response from Pindarus. No more cries of alarm, not even a sound of breathing.
    Marcus dropped down beside the auctioneer’s head and saw in the moonlight that it was twisted at an awkward angle where it butted up against the base of a heavy stone urn in which a small conifer had been planted.
    ‘Something’s wrong with him. Help me turn him over, Festus.’
    Between the two of them they managed to turn the fat man on to his back and his head lolled limply on the flagstones of the garden path. A small, dark dribble spilled out of one of his nostrils as he stared up at the moon. Marcus knelt down beside him and lowered his ear above the man’s lips, but there was nothing. No sound and not the slightest movement of air. He shuffled down and pressed his ear over the soft flesh of the auctioneer’s chest but could detect no heartbeat. Marcus looked up at Festus.
    ‘I think he’s dead.’
    ‘Impossible.’ Festus held up his dagger. There was only the dull metal gleam in the moonlight. No blood. ‘I didn’t touch him. I held the dagger out to the side.’
    ‘It wasn’t the blade.’ Marcus gestured towards the urn. ‘He hit his head on