Two nights and days of Hell passed without a moment's letup from the suffering.  The only blessing that came from the raging snowstorm, which struck early on the first morning that the rebels made camp on Melia Ridge, was that the blinding snow kept Crassus's army from leaving Sinuessa and pursuing them.  It gave Spartacus and his Generals more time to try and find a way out of their dire circumstances.  Unfortunately, not a single practical idea materialized.  A number of desperate rebels made an attempt to reach the other side of the great pit separating them from freedom, and each one fell to their deaths, arrows and spears piercing them several times over.  The second night was the worst.  Temperatures dropped so low that even makeshift tents, heavy furs, and constantly stoked fires could not keep the chill out of bones already aching.

Despite the miserable conditions, daily life had to continue as best it could under the circumstances.  The rebellion had lost at least a hundred of its followers, mostly those who had foolishly waited too long to gather at the Northern gate, and also a couple dozen proficient warriors during their escape from the city.  Luckily, none of the losses included the leadership of the rebellion.  During their time on the ridge, Agron was unable to spend much time with Nasir.  Being Spartacus's right-hand man, he was with him for hours on end.  The two of them, along with Crixus and Gannicus, did everything in their power to figure out a way to escape from Crassus and his army, once the storm finally abated.  On top of that concern was the task of keeping their followers from panicking.  There were enough food supplies, shelter, and fire provisions to last for at least a fortnight, but then they would begin to face starvation, as well as facing the elements without a reliable source of warmth and heat for cooking.  Brion was again asked to keep an eye on the supplies, making sure that the provisions didn't disappear suddenly without knowing where they'd gone.  There was always the fear that desperation would turn good people into thieves.

Brion and Justinus had more than the miserable weather on their minds that first morning they woke up in their private tent.  Before falling asleep in each other's arms, Justinus told Brion the whole ugly story of the encounter he and Nasir faced with Craigh and Cassius.  Brion suspected that a couple of the bruises his lover carried came from those two bastards and not the soldiers they had to fight to escape.  It made his blood boil picturing Justinus at the mercy of those hateful men.  He was happy that he had taken the life of one of them, although he hadn't known who they were at the time.  Both Craigh and Cassius had grown full beards during their time inside the walls and wore clothing that successfully disguised them.  No one had the time or desire to check their identities at the time they were killed.  Brion learned of their identity when Justinus revealed it, and informed him that he had no regrets at the loss of his father.  Then he explained that there was one regret.  He told Brion of the conversation between Craigh and Cassius that Nasir overheard.  He went on to tell him that there had been no time to explain himself to Nasir.   Because of this, the couple knew they might have to deal with repercussions in the morning.

When morning came, the storm delayed any chance of getting Nasir alone to ask him what he was thinking about what he had learned in the barn.  Spartacus himself came to Brion's tent to ask for his help, while Justinus was asked to assist those given the task of making sure that all the people had a safe place to ride out the storm.  It was not an easy job, because the snow was blinding as it flew into their faces as they traveled from one camp site to another.  The wind was so strong that it often blew them backwards, slowing them to a crawl.  When they decided to stop for a meal, they returned to the main tent where the cooks had prepared food to distribute to the people.  That was when Justinus finally spotted Nasir.  He had also taken a break from his duties to grab a meal.  Nasir was responsible for checking on the wounded and sick.  Not everyone was able to handle the trek up to the ridge unscathed while fleeing from the city.  Justinus made his way over to Nasir.  His heart was beating so hard, he was certain his companions could hear it through the howling storm outside the large tent.  Nasir stood in line to receive his bowl of hot soup.  His back was to Justinus.  Justinus tapped him on the shoulder.  Nasir turned and smiled. 

"It warms heart to see you survived the night," Nasir grinned.  "Though that be all that feels warmth."

Justinus was taken aback.  Nasir was acting like nothing had changed between them.  His friend was joking with him, as they often did when together.

"It warms heart to see you yet smile, after threat caused by disgraced acquaintances," Justinus confessed.

"Set mind to rest, Justinus.  You bear no disgrace in my eyes.  We choose not our blood, but do our friends.  I know your heart.  It bears kindness.  If you be Roman born, it was without stain of cruelty or ill intent.  Replace fear of discovery with assurance of secret kept safe."

"What of Agron?  Is it not betrayal to keep this from him?  I would not have either of you hurt by misguided loyalty to me."

"Yours is not my story to tell.  When you are ready, you will choose the time and place for revelation.  Meanwhile, fill your bowl and let us return to my tent.  I confess to curiosity how you came to this plight, and with Brion at your side."

Nasir smiled again.  This time, Justinus smiled back.  He could not believe his good fortune.  He was certain that if he had made friends with any other rebel, his fate would have been much different under the same circumstances.  He did not like placing Nasir in the position of keeping anything from Agron, but he was deeply grateful for it despite that.  It would give him more time to discuss things with Brion and determine when and if they should make a confession to their compatriots.  And, of course, this all depended on whether they lived to see their future.  As of now it didn't look guaranteed.  Once the friends reached the tent, they huddled together while drinking their soup.  Justinus commenced to reveal all of his story, including  the affair with Brion and his father's reaction to it.  He explained how that had led to the place and circumstances where the two of them had been found by Agron and Nasir, and why they chose to conceal his true identity as a Roman by placing Ethan's collar around his own neck.  When he reached the end of his tale, Nasir assured him for a final time that his secret was safe.  They hugged and parted ways to return to their work.

The second night on the mountain was even worse than the first.  The storm tore the heavens apart with the rage of a cornered beast of prey.  Wind whipped mercilessly through the encampments, trying its best to pull tents from the ground and scatter anything as far away as possible that was not heavily secured.  Far too many people lost the only security they had during the night, being exposed to the vicious elements.  When morning came, the snow and winds continued mercilessly, although not with the same demonic strength.  It allowed Spartacus and his men the chance to check on the damage created during the long night.  They were shocked by the large number of frozen dead they found scattered throughout the various campsites.  At least two out of every ten human beings and none of the pack animals survived to see the light of day. 

Later on, after Spartacus gathered Agron, Crixus, and Gannicus together to discuss this new tragedy to befall their people, he was suddenly hit with an idea that sounded barbaric at first.  He was almost afraid to present it to Agron, Crixus, and Gannicus for fear they'd think he'd gone mad.  But these were desperate times.  It was no time to be timid.  He waited for the others to present whatever ideas they had come up with for resolving their impossible situation.  They all knew that the end of the storm would bring Crassus and his army straight from the city to confront them in their trap.  But every idea the leaders brought up would only lead to the same end... countless deaths to the point of annihilation.  Only the means to their end changed with each scheme.  Spartacus finally realized he had to speak up.  After all, he was certain that those who had died would not be bitter if they could serve a purpose in saving the lives of their companions with one final gesture.  Spartacus called for silence.  His face was stern, yet determined.  He knew that what he was going to suggest was necessary if they were to have any hope of escape.

With all voices silenced, Spartacus began to lay out his plan.  It started with gathering up all the frozen bodies of their dead and dropping them down into the pit, spreading them out as wide as possible while still reaching to the top.  It had to be done quickly, while the heavy snowfall blinded the watchers along the wall on the other side of the pit.  Very few men still stood guard... the majority of the soldiers being certain that no one would attempt to drop into the pit and climb their way out the other side in such weather.  Those few that still stood in place along the wall were far too busy trying to keep out of the bitter, cold wind blowing from the direction of the rebel side by crouching behind the wooden pillars.  It left them unable to keep an eye on what was happening on the other side of the wall.  If the rebels worked fast enough, a human bridge would be created to span the chasm between the rebels and deliverance.  There was no time for delay.  Spartacus sent messengers throughout the encampment to prepare the survivors for what was coming, and to seek volunteers for the unpleasant task of lining up bodies along the pit. 

Agron hurried off to his tent to inform Nasir of the plan.  Nasir was practical enough to recognize that it was a choice that Spartacus had to make, despite the fact that many would mourn leaving their loved ones and friends behind, once they'd crossed.  His heart ached for those people, but he had long since learned the harsh realities of rebellion.  Agron next hurried off to the nearby tent that housed Brion and Justinus, while Nasir left to join the others already initiating the collection of bodies.  All able-bodied men were needed for the disagreeable job ahead.  When Agron popped his head inside the tent, he found the couple just finishing the sparse meal they shared before checking to see what would be required of them for the day.  Brion felt a brief moment of anxiety when he saw the look on Agron's face.  Although Justinus had already told him everything that passed between he and Nasir when they had their 'talk', Brion was still on guard.  Brion tended to trust Nasir, yet he knew how close he was to Agron.  A small part of him found it hard to believe that Nasir could or would keep such an important secret from his lover.  So when he saw the stern look on Agron's face, his heart stilled for a beat.

Agron did not waste time with preliminaries.  He immediately laid out the entire plan for escape in as brief a fashion as possible.  If he expected Brion or Justinus to be repulsed by the idea, he was wrong.  The couple had no wish to die at the hands of Crassus and his army, or at the mercy of perverse gods who delighted in turning mere mortals into ice statues.  Following Agron's orders, they too rushed off to gather the dead, after a last kiss to remind themselves why they wanted to live.  Agron followed.  It took more than an hour for the arduous undertaking to be completed.  It took another hour for all the fighting men and women to form lines at the lip of the pit, weapons in hand.  By this time it was mid-morning.  They would have been sitting targets if not for the blessing of a storm still holding tight to its course.  Spartacus knew he was gambling their lives on his belief that there were not very many soldiers waiting for them on the other side of the wall.  He was certain that Crassus would not waste too many of his men on something he did not believe would be needed.  The only way to defeat a man was to think like him, and Spartacus knew he'd keep the majority of his men with him so that he could throw his full weight at the enemy while their backs were to the wall.  If he was right, all would end well.

Every man and woman stood ready now.  Agron reached for Nasir and pulled him in for a final hug and kiss. Brion did the same with Justinus as he stood at Agron's other side.  Spartacus gave the word, and the force moved across the human bridge en masse.  No one looked down... all were grateful that the bodies were stiff like stone, making it easier to maintain an illusion that their walkway was not comprised of people they once ate, drank, joked, and fucked with only days before.  As soon as the first wave of rebels had crossed over, consisting of Spartacus and his deadliest warriors, grappling hooks were flung over the high walls above them.  The sound, as the hooks struck home, finally brought rebel activity to the attention of the guards on duty.  They made the mistake of leaning far over the edge to try and see what had caused the noise.  It was their last mistake.  Arrows from below found their marks and the soldiers fell.  The rebels scrambled up the ropes and cut down what little resistance remained along the wall.  Before jumping to the ground on the other side, Spartacus paused with his men and stared out over the terrain that had been hidden from view until now.  There was a small encampment of soldiers a hundred yards away, but they were not yet alerted to what was happening at the wall.

Spartacus ordered his men to use their weapons to break through the structure, making it easier for the rest of their people to reach the other side.  The men set to work immediately.  It did not take long for the flimsy wooden barrier to crumble like twigs, so warriors and refugees alike were free to escape from the certain death Crassus had planned for them.  As if the gods found themselves amused by the ingenuity of the rebels and wished to reward them, the wind suddenly died down.  The snow still fell, but it no longer swirled around like a rabid dog gone berserk.  Vision improved greatly.  The rebels could see the soldier's tents and the result that accompanied the sudden abatement of the storm.  Soldiers began pouring out of their tents.  Those men were greeted by the shocking surprise of countless rebels rapidly amassing along the barricade Crassus had ordered built less than a week before.  The call went out to prepare to fight at the exact moment that Spartacus led the charge of his warriors.

The soldiers were hopelessly outnumbered.  More and more rebel fighters poured through the gaping hole in the wall and rushed forward to do battle with the enemy.   Snowflakes soon landed on bloody remains of dead Romans, turning into pink slush in gaping wounds.  In no time at all, there was not a living man of Crassus's force left on the battleground.  Spartacus was grateful that his hunch had paid off.  Crassus had been so cock-sure that the rebels would never escape their trap, that he had assigned a single Centurion with less than a hundred men to guard the wall.  Now he hoped his second hunch would prove true too.  The storm was slowly dying out.  Crassus and his legions were ensconced comfortably within Sinuessa, secure in the knowledge that their foes were freezing and starving to death in their deadly trap.  He hoped they'd be in no hurry to leave the city and confront the rebels.  If the situation was reversed, he knew he'd wait even longer for the enemy to weaken further, making their slaughter quicker. 

When the final remaining soldier breathed his last, Spartacus called his Generals together.  He ordered them to spread word that there would be no further delay.  The way was now clear for flight, and they had to put as much distance between them and Crassus as possible.  No one hesitated.  The rebels were on the march again.  Fortunately for them, Spartacus was right about the way Crassus was thinking.  Snow continued to fall for two more days, although not again with the force it had earlier.  Crassus made no move to check on the enemy, expecting to receive an update from the front once the storm cleared away.  On the morning of the third day after Spartacus and his people left the ridge, Crassus was awakened early by one of his Centurions.  The man was obviously upset.  They had expected to receive a report from those guarding the wall by now, and had heard nothing.  Crassus felt a sudden chill, but put it down to the wintry morning air.  Still, it was time to confront the enemy.  The snow ceased falling during the night.  Crassus, his son, Tiberius, and Caesar marched from the Northern gate at the head of his legion of over five thousand well-fed, well-rested men.  He expected the campaign against Spartacus and the rebels to be a swift victory, and to have the pleasure of seeing the head of Spartacus on a spike by nightfall.  His expectations were shattered upon arriving on the ridge.  Rather than returning to Sinuessa in triumph, Crassus made camp at the wall and sent men back to order the second legion to join them, along with supplies needed to chase the rebels down.  He sent a scouting troop forward to track down the rebels and see how far they'd gotten.  All Crassus and his men could do now was wait.  They had not come prepared for anything but a battle.  Another day would be lost as Crassus sat cursing the gods and himself for once again underestimating his enemy.  He vowed it would never happen again.

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The sun had long since set before Spartacus finally called a halt to their trek on that first day.  Too many of the old, very young, and infirm were falling behind, which forced Spartacus to assign his best men to guard the rear.  After camp was set up, scouts were sent out to gauge whether they were being followed.  They returned with reports of no sightings of the Roman army.  Agron, Nasir, Brion, and Justinus sat together discussing the events of the last few days.  It was somewhat awkward for everyone but Agron, who still believed that it was just dumb luck when Nasir and Justinus showed up at the city gate just in time to prevent a catastrophe by the two 'strangers' who attacked them.  Agron was too concerned with what was happening now to reflect on past events.  The two couples set up their tents close together and then retired for the night.  Sleep would have been difficult if not for the sheer exhaustion that overcame nearly everyone in the encampment.  Only the guards stayed awake, and would take their rest a few hours later when relieved by fresh eyes.   

The next morning, the rebels were on the move again.  They repeated this routine for several more nights, finally coming off the mountain and into a forest.  It was only on the fifth evening that the advance scouting group of a handful of soldiers finally caught up with the rear end of the rebel march.  Spartacus and his best warriors rushed to the rear to meet the threat head-on.  The battle was over almost before it begun, with little resistance from the exhausted Romans.  One soldier, in the vain hope of leniency, gave up information that Crassus was four days march from where they stood, just before being put to the sword.  Spartacus was relieved to realize his belief that Crassus would not be in any hurry to attack them on the ridge, thus giving them a decent head start, had been correct.  But now was not the time to exult in their position.  He knew that Crassus would drive his men forward, hard, knowing that the rebels had many weaker people to slow them down.  Their only hope was to continue to put as much distance between them as possible.  The war between the ex-gladiators and their followers and the might of Rome was far from over.  For now, the rebels were still free men and women... free to make their own choices... free to live, love, and die the way they chose, and not at a master's will.

To be continued.....................