By the end of August, the rebel army’s numbers had reached nearly ten thousand. They had to divide into camps, which further reinforced their complete control over the northern region of Vesuvius. Towns like Napolet were suffering and constantly sent envoys to Rome for help.
"Leader, when the people here saw us coming, those overseers drove the slaves into hiding in that farm over there, but a few slaves managed to escape in time, and I brought them with us."
"Well done!" Maximus loudly praised Hagux, who was on horseback.
Hagux’s face split into a grin. Although he was slender and young, both of his parents were Gauls captured in war, becoming farm slaves responsible for tending cattle and horses. He was born on the farm, essentially a house-born slave, and worked with his parents from a young age. Once, his master invited friends for a visit, and after feasting, they intended to go horseback riding, but a drunken friend fell off the horse and broke his leg. The master blamed Hagux’s father and beat him to death on the spot to appease his friend. Hagux’s mother, heartbroken by the news, soon fell ill and died. Hagux buried his hatred deep within.
When the rebel army breached the farm in May, he joined them voluntarily and was assigned to the supply camp, under the transport team. By late July, Maximus decided to form a horseback squad within the supply camp for message delivery during peace and enemy scouting during war. Being an elder in the supply camp, adept at riding, and clever, Hagux was promoted to head this four-man squad.
Maximus turned his gaze to the three slaves behind Hagux: with their dark reddish skin, rough skin texture, tense muscles, large joints, slightly hunched postures, and aged faces...
Now, Maximus had some experience in observing slaves and knew they must be engaged in long-term field labor. So he kindly asked, "Do you know about the situation of this farm? Can you tell me how many people are there? How many are equipped with weapons and capable of fighting?"
The three nervously scanned the fully armed troop before them, finally focusing on Maximus, clad in the shining armor of a Roman officer. The youngest among them cautiously asked, "Are you really the... the slave troop led by Spartacus?"
"Indeed, we are! These armors we stripped off defeated Roman soldiers. Today, we’re here on special orders from leader Spartacus to rescue you," Maximus responded with a smile, clearly recognizing how well-equipped his troop appeared to these slaves.
The slaves visibly eased their doubts and excitedly said, "We’ve long heard of you killing those brutal Roman nobles and farm managers in the mountains (referring to the northern Vesuvius) and rescuing many slaves. We wanted to join you for a long time, but recently the farm managers and guards have been watching us too closely. The journey is too far. A few brothers escaped but were captured, beaten to a pulp in front of us... and finally hanged at the courtyard gate—"
"Rest assured, now that we are here, we will make those noble dogs pay in blood!" said Hagux angrily.
"Oh, this farm has over 300 slaves, originally with one manager and thirty guards. About ten days ago, it increased to 50." The young slave reddened his eyes, raised his right hand above his head, and tiptoed to illustrate: "The farm is quite extensive, with the courtyard walls about this high..."
Hearing the number of people in the farm, Maximus wasn’t surprised. This large wheat-growing farm covered at least a thousand acres and required numerous slaves, so naturally, many were involved in overseeing them.
"Finally, a good fight to engage in!" Hagux said excitedly.
Maximus felt equally thrilled. In recent days, they raided a few times and only encountered vineyards with merely a few enemies and a few slaves. As they crossed the southern edge of the Vesuvius region, close to Pompey and Lucania, they finally found a target that could well-train the troop. Yet, he kept his expression calm, pointed towards the farm’s direction, and shouted, "Lower the advance speed, Guards, towards the farm ahead!"
Led by Fesaros, the team officers immediately relayed the orders, and the two-column formation of over three hundred soldiers quickly reduced their pace.
Seeing the effect of over two months of military training, Flanitnus felt satisfied and also praised, "Maximus, your decision to slow down before the fight was correct. It allows the soldiers to regain energy and boost morale."
"Flanitnus, feel free to offer criticism more often, so I can improve quickly," Maximus joked. Over the past two months, he had been rigorously undergoing military training and frequently sought Flanitnus’s guidance, leading to a good friendship between the two.
"As per the agreement beforehand, our military advisory team will not interfere this time. We will propose critiques based on the situation after the battle," Flanitnus said solemnly.
"Rest assured, I won’t let you down," Maximus replied confidently.
Amidst golden, heavy wheat waves stood a white manor. Behind the approximately three-meter high walls stood numerous armed individuals.
"All troops halt!" Maximus raised his right arm and shouted loudly, "Prepare to form up!"
Upon receiving the order, the guard soldiers quickly halted their march, followed by shouts from the officers: "First team, stand over here!... Brothers of the second team, come here!... Third team, change formation from column to line on the spot!..."
Amidst the noisy and chaotic sounds, three hundred soldiers formed three adjacent small phalanxes of a hundred each.
"Reporting, Leader, the First Guard Squadron is in formation!" Fesaros, wearing Roman Centurion Armor with horizontal crests, solemnly saluted Maximus and reported.
He had been the Guard Captain. With the increase of the guard’s numbers, although he still commanded a hundred, his role changed to the First Guard Squadron Captain. He accepted this willingly due to Maximus’s patient persuasion and the position of the Second Squadron Captain, Torrelugo.
After being gravely injured, Torrelugo gradually recovered under two months of attentive care by the Medical Team, helped by his robust physique. Gratefully sincere towards the Medical Team, he decided to remain in the Supply Camp. Apart from him, dozens of healed wounded also chose to stay, thus fulfilling one of Maximus’s primary objectives when he established the Medical Team. He organized those people and some new recruits assigned to the Supply Camp into a second company of a hundred men, appointed Torrelugo as the Second Guard Squadron Captain.
Originally having some fame in the Gladiator School and holding significant prestige in the Second Battalion, Torrelugo fought valiantly against the Romans, nearly dying, gaining further recognition at a soldiers’ assembly for defending the Medical Camp’s nurses. Such a hero choosing to reside quietly in the supply camp guard would leave the lesser-known Fesaros unwilling to ask for more.
"Reporting, Leader, the Third Squadron is also in formation!" The Third Guard Squadron Captain, Camillus, quickly came to report.
This man was a slave sailor from Napolet, an Illyrian, who, inspired by Attutmus’s deeds, organized ninety port slaves in mid-July to escape Napolet and incidentally encountered Maximus while joining the rebel army. Learning that most in his group were Illyrians, with Maximus having half-Illyrian blood, he quickly received Hamilcar’s agreement to place these people in the Supply Camp, forming the Third Guard Squadron, with Camillus appointed as captain.
After a while, Torrelugo limped over to Maximus. Unlike the other two squadron captains, still recovering from his injuries, he wasn’t wearing armor, just a red waist-tied tunic. He didn’t salute but shouted directly, "Maximus, my brothers are all ready. Give the order to attack!"