Path of the Tiger, стр. 417

‘Never mind,’ the General said. ‘That is of no importance now. We have won the battle. See!’

Crixus stepped forward and held Batiatus’s severed head in front of Viridovix.

‘Our former master fought well and bravely, right until the end,’ the General said. ‘We gave him a quick and noble soldier’s death … the kind he and his ilk would surely have denied us should we have lost. But nevertheless, we have won this battle tonight, and we are now free men! However, in the eyes of Rome, we will be seen as most savage and grievous criminals.’

‘The General speaks the truth,’ said Spartacus, whose face was bloody, bruised and crisscrossed with slashes and cuts. ‘We are all wanted criminals now, so we must flee, and flee swiftly. When word about this gets out – and it surely will, for I think that despite all our efforts, a number of guests and some soldiers escaped on horseback – Rome will send an army against us.’

‘I can carry you, my friend,’ Oenomaus said with tears in his eyes to Viridovix. ‘I’m strong enough to carry you all the way over the Alps. You know I can. I’ll do it, brother, I’ll do it.’

Viridovix shook his head weakly.

‘No … you must leave, now … all of you … Do not worry about me … My time is done … I am at death’s door, brothers … and no healer nor medicine … can save me now.’

‘We can get you to a stream, clean you up, find a doctor—’ the General began, his eyes misting over with sadness and his voice cracking.

‘My wounds … are fatal … old friend … I will not … live through … the night … Already I can hear … the voices … of my people’s gods … calling out to me … calling me … to walk … that final … walk … into the Great Forest.’

‘We cannot leave you here!’ the General protested, shaking with grief as his freely flowing tears dropped onto his dying friend.

‘You must, General … I will only … slow you down.’

‘He is right, General,’ Spartacus said. ‘He is dying. We can all see that. I’m sorry, but we have no time to waste. We must fly, right now.’

‘No!’ the General screamed hoarsely. ‘No! I will not abandon my brother like this! I will not!’

Viridovix could hardly even breathe now, but with great effort he reached up and gripped the General’s forearm in his trembling hand.

‘You are not … abandoning … me … my brother … You … are … liberating … me …  You already … have.’

Spartacus placed a sympathetic hand on the General’s shoulder.

‘It is time to say your final farewells, General. We must saddle up all of the available horses and ride out of this cursed place now. The survivors may already have reached the city, and forces could be mobilising against us as we speak. There is no time to spare, none at all.’

Crixus dropped Batiatus’s severed head and squatted down next to Viridovix.

‘You fought well, Viridovix,’ he rasped.

‘You … can actually … speak?’ Viridovix asked, chuckling and coughing.

Crixus grinned.

‘I’d almost forgotten how to … but now I remember. Go well into whatever realm your gods live in, for they are surely waiting to greet you with a hero’s welcome.’

‘Thank you … Crixus,’ Viridovix murmured.

Spartacus then knelt down and squeezed Viridovix’s shoulder.

‘You fought like a true champion today, Viridovix. You and I have not seen eye-to-eye on many things in the past, but today I am proud to name you brother. You fought like a hero of legend this night, and into your Great Forest a hero you will go. Farewell.’

With that, he and Crixus stood up and walked away. Each of the gladiators followed their example, kneeling down and whispering their final words to Viridovix, until finally only the General and Oenomaus remained.

‘Goodbye old friend,’ Oenomaus rumbled sadly, his massive face contorted into a grimace of sadness. ‘I don’t know what else t’ say, see, and I ain’t none too good at these things. I wish you was coming with us, but … but … oh, I’m feeling right sad now. I don’t know what to say. Goodbye, and good luck for your next journey. I’m going to miss you.’

He wrapped his enormous arms around Viridovix and squeezed him in a bear-hug, and then, with tears rolling over his protruding cheekbones, he laid Viridovix down again and shuffled off, sniffing loudly and clutching his huge, bloodied hammer in both hands.

Finally, it was N’Jalabenadou’s turn to say goodbye. He gripped Viridovix’s hand in his, and locked a piercing stare into his friend’s eyes.

‘I am glad that … that you lived to see freedom, my dear friend,’ he said, every word having to fight its way through the balled knot of bitter emotion in his throat. ‘But it hurts me so to know that you will not share in its boundless joys with us.’

‘But … I will…’ Viridovix croaked, his lips curling into a sad smile. ‘I will … be with … all … of you … My soul … will travel … with … you.’

‘I know it will, brother … I know it will.’

Viridovix gripped the General’s hand in his.

‘Take … my sword … Bury it … in the garden … you will have …  with your future wife … and children … Those things … of which … we talked and dreamed … in those lonely nights … in the cells … bury it there … and I will … be with you …  always.’

‘This I will do,’ the General whispered hoarsely. ‘This I will do. I swear it upon the souls of all of my ancestors! Farewell my friend, my brother … my hero!’

He embraced Viridovix tightly, picked up the champion gladiator’s longsword, and strode out of the hall without looking back.

Tears were now rolling down Viridovix’s own cheeks, but they were tears of happiness, for finally, finally he was at peace. A feeling of blissful