A red-tipped spike of wood sprang from the middle of the gladiator's body, shreds of flesh and gristle hanging the splintered end. Blood jetted from the gaping wound . . .As the gladiator Vulpus the Fox, idol of the bloodhungry crowds, celebrates another victory in the arena, he remembers the beginning of his brutal career, when the Emperor Titus summoned him to be his personal champion. And he remembers how, one by one, pitilessly, he hunted down the men who owed him a debt of blood. How he trapped them. How he made them die - slowly, in torment, in darkness and alone . . .