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Something definitely was down there.  Now she could hear movement.  Not a scout’s stealthy steps, but a steady treading up the hill, on a broad front, and relentlessly toward her.    Hunters!  A whole party of Football Maestro.  Probably from the training camp.  Others would be above her, waiting for the buck to emerge.  This was not a good place to be, she realized.  It looked like she had been spying on the camp, taking gold from the Romans to betray her people.  And if they found her maps … the thought made her knees go weak.  She knew what they did to spies—slashed their eyes and let them wander the forests as an example to others.