"It must be that the path ahead is too narrow for the carriages," Hamilcar thought for a moment and explained, "Besides, the people in the Supply Team are just old folks, women, and children; they also can't guard these carriages. Bringing them up the mountain was already a great effort."
"Indeed, it's remarkable that Maximus managed to organize the Supply Team to safely bring these supplies up the mountain while we were suffering a defeat and being chased by the Roman Army. You did the right thing by having him take over the Supply Team!"
Spartacus praised Maximus, then turned to look at the other gladiators, "Volcres, you stay here with the brothers and guard our food."
Volcres, a Thrace gladiator, had always been loyal to Spartacus, and immediately followed the order.
Other gladiators stayed behind as Spartacus and Hamilcar continued upwards, soon seeing more than a dozen people coming down from above.
Spartacus instantly recognized the leader as the gladiator Fesaros, who had injured his leg while escaping from Gladiator School but recovered after twenty days and served as a centurion under Antonix. Upon seeing Spartacus, his tired eyes lit up, and he respectfully called, "Leader Spartacus!"
Behind him were new slave recruits, their heads low, looking dejected, not even bothering to look up at Spartacus.
Spartacus noticed and asked, "Where are you going?"
"Maximus begged everyone to send people to guard the grain in the carriages below, but no one was willing, except me," Fesaros said helplessly, "because I'm on good terms with Maximus and couldn't refuse."
It seems it's not that Maximus hadn't thought it through... Spartacus instinctively glanced at Hamilcar, then said, "You don't need to take anyone down. I've already had Volcres guard there."
On hearing this, Fesaros was invigorated and turned to the others, "Brothers, we don't have to go down, let's quickly head up and rest."
The others turned back in relief, too lazy to even respond.
Spartacus' brows knitted even tighter.
As they passed a turn in the mountain path, Fesaros loudly said from the front, "Leader, the road ahead is steep, be careful, we were too frantic coming up before... some brothers fell..."
After the rebel army stationed at the wine farm, Spartacus personally scouted the surrounding terrain. Having walked the mountain, he didn't find it particularly difficult. But Fesaros' words left him stunned, quickly turning to anguish, as he silently followed Fesaros and the others through the steepest part of the mountain road, arriving at the rebel stragglers' resting place.
This was a flat area at the mountain's peak, surrounded by rough, uneven rocks, with a thick layer of black-brown soil in the center. Along with sufficient sunlight, no wonder it had been turned into a vineyard.
However, now the shelters that blocked the mountain wind were removed, and the grape trellises were all gone, without lush green leaves or heavy grape clusters, only a dense crowd of rebel soldiers. They huddled on the ground, some leaning against each other, asleep from exhaustion, others clutching their wounds, groaning incessantly, some looking dejected, sobbing quietly... each dispirited, morale low. When Spartacus entered, more than half remained as immobile as wooden sculptures, as if the rebel leader did not exist.
Only Cross, Enomai, and Antonix, who sat at the edge, stood. From deep inside the dense crowd, Maximus saw this and squeezed over.
"How many do we still have?" Spartacus first asked the question he was most concerned about.
"Just now, Maximus roughly counted for me, there are about 1,400 people here, including 170 from the Supply Team," even the always spirited Cross seemed somewhat despondent, "Among them, more than 200 are wounded, unable to fight anytime soon..."
Spartacus felt a pang of sorrow: before the battle, the rebel army had over 4,000 people. After one fight, three-quarters were gone. Those not on the mountain were either killed, captured, or fled elsewhere...
Shaking his head, Spartacus momentarily set aside his grief and asked sternly, "What about the gladiators' casualties?"
"Including those you've left midway down, here we have 163 people left..." Cross, the gritty Gaul, was now also showing sadness, "Boudovell, Nigel, Vibelte... they all died fighting the Romans... I saw it with my own eyes..."
The names Cross mentioned were all Gaul gladiators closely connected to him.
Spartacus vigorously patted his shoulder for comfort.
"Spartacus, the Romans are building a camp at the mountain's base, trying to trap us here. What do we do now?!" Antonix interjected anxiously, as they could see the situation below from the mountain top.
"Why not, while the Romans haven't finished digging trenches, we rush down and launch a surprise attack, we could break through their encirclement!" Enomai shouted loudly.
"We might have some food on the mountain, but not enough water. If we're surrounded three or four days by the Romans, we'll die of thirst. Better to fight them head-on, as Enomai suggested, once everyone's rested!" Cross said through gritted teeth.
Even though Antonix stayed silent, his expression clearly agreed.
It seemed the three had already reached a consensus... Spartacus hesitated: the Roman camp building below isn't without defenses, their regular troops are on alert. Over 4,000 couldn't break through the enemy before, and now bringing down these demoralized stragglers seems a desperate gamble! But if not, staying trapped by the Romans is just waiting for death...
In a dilemma, Spartacus was about to say, "Let me think some more—" but then Maximus, who had arrived, said, "The Romans can't completely block us; we can quietly descend the mountain."
"Quietly descend? How?!" Cross was instantly furious, yelling, "This mountain, except for this side, is surrounded by cliffs, no place to set foot. Your idea of sneaking down is a dream! If you hadn't led the Supply Team up this mountain, causing soldiers to follow, we wouldn't be trapped here!"
"Cross, if it weren't for Maximus leading the frightened soldiers up, we might still be fleeing, not discussing how to break through here," Hamilcar defended Maximus immediately.
"At least that way we might escape, not just wait for death as we are now!" Cross retorted.
"Enough of this arguing!" Spartacus shouted irritably, then turned to Maximus with a voice of hope and tension, "What did you mean by 'quietly descend'? Is there another way down?"
"Of course!" Maximus, confident, looked at everyone, finally fixating on Cross, and said solemnly, "You were right, apart from this side, the rest of the mountain is cliff, too high off the ground, descending isn't easy, but it's not impossible! I brought several bundles of sturdy rope; although not quite long enough on their own, there's grapevines everywhere here, some are very strong. By tying them with the ropes, we can let them down to the ground, and also—"
Maximus pointed to the eastern cliff, speaking emphatically, "I checked the terrain here before: there are two beams reaching the ground over there, with some ledges between them where we can brace ourselves. We can use the ropes, slide down while stepping on the mountain to slow down, possibly reaching the ground safely, and since it's on the side separated by another mountain from the Romans' camp, they'll hardly notice our movements."
Maximus' words left Spartacus both skeptical and renewed with hope. He turned to the leaders and said loudly, "Let's go, let's all take a look!"