Love of the Gladiator (Affairs of the Arena Book 2) (23 page)

Perhaps Otho thought it symbolic, having one man fight two tigers at the start of the day, and having Lucius fight Ajax and Perseus in the main event.

It only just dawned on Lucius with that thought that he would be in the primus, the main event. Once upon a time, that would have filled him with great pride.

In all honesty, he wished his fight was before any of the others. Nerves ached at him. He wandered to the corner often to empty his bladder and shake himself out.

The other gladiators from his ludus gave many encouraging words to Lucius, but they all looked at him with sad, somber eyes. They knew he would die as sure as they stood before him.

Even if he proved them wrong today, Otho would keep upping the stakes, keeping him in a cell and pitting more and more fighters against him.

There was no way to win forever.

Sometime in the afternoon, the executions of the noxii began. Their ends were always brutal. It wasn’t often just as simple as a man with a sword running them through or cutting off their heads. Sometimes one prisoner would be given a sword, ordered to cut the other man down. Then, his sword would be given to the next man who came out, and the pattern would continue until only one was left. Then a gladiator would enter and put the last prisoner down.

Lucius had, thus far, avoided that sort of task.

There were worse punishments; longer ways to die or draw out the process for the crowd. None were pretty. And yet, even so, they all had a definitive finality to them that Lucius felt envy for as he lined up with the other gladiators beneath the arena. As in so many fights before, they prepared to go out before the crowd and display their physiques and weapon styles. The crowd had to be allowed to see them and choose their favorites before the fights began.

“Fighting as a hoplamachus, are you?”

Next to Lucius in the heavy line were Ajax and Perseus, the former being who had spoken. They hung on one another, armor clinking together.

“Consider it a favor,” said Lucius. “I wanted to give you a challenge.”

“A challenge? Against a one-armed man?” Perseus laughed. “What do you mean?” He nudged Ajax. “What’s he mean?”

“He’s being smart,” said Ajax. “Aren’t you, Orion?

“Certainly. If I fought as retarius, I could beat four of you. I thought it fair to give you at least some chance of winning.”

“There’s two of us and one of you,” said Perseus. “They’re gonna be cleaning you out of the sands for a week.”

Lucius smirked. “Did it sting, knowing you were Otho's second choice?”

“Second choice? What are you on about?”

“He wanted to hire the Titan of Rome.” This was a bold-faced lie, of course. “But he said he had better things to do than take out the trash. I suppose you two don't?”

“We don't mind taking out trash when it's filth like you, Orion.”

“Yeah,” said Perseus. “We're regular trash men.”

Ajax punched Perseus in the shoulder, clearly annoyed at what he said—and for having fallen into Lucius's little trap.

Lucius had more to say. The heavy art of boasting and braggadocio had not left him—but they could not spar any longer. The gates opened, and the gladiators were processed out in front of the roaring crowd.

––––––––

T
he display of the gladiators to the crowd passed with little event. Ajax and Perseus took it upon themselves to kick sand over at Lucius, and he took their childish behavior with stoic silence. Otho announced that Lucius had been the one to murder Porcia, and while most of the crowd was already aware of this “fact,” much booing had followed. When Lucius ducked back down into the arena, he did so beneath a shower of small rocks, curses, and clumpy bits of animal dung.

Directly after the display, the fights began, and Lucius lost himself in his head. He felt like a novice entered for his very first fight.

All through the afternoon, the crowd was hot and ready for action. It was a much warmer audience than had found them weeks past for Gwenn’s first fight.

They had been expecting to see the magnificent gladiatrix again—Lucius expected they would leave disappointed, in that case. Perhaps more disappointed after seeing their hometown hero slaughtered before their eyes after being revealed for a murderer.

Stop that. Stop thinking like that. No one is going to win for you.

He took a breath. In and out. Centered himself.

His own match was mere moments away now. The arena attendants were cleaning out the sands now, clearing bodies and blood.

He was a fighter. Of all the fighters there in this arena today, none had been so decorated as him. All that skill and knowledge didn’t just fade away.

So wrapped up was Lucius in his own fight that he had not paid attention to any others that day. Someone would have told him if one of the gladiatrices or Conall was hurt. But other than that, he knew nothing of the wins and losses. There would be time to find out that later.

There you go. Later. Imagine that—what a concept! “Later.” It won’t exist for you unless you believe it will
.

Another deep breath. More panicky, hounded stress exiting his body. He shook out his shoulders and his arms, banging the shield on one hand against the wall. It was limestone and heavy, and the sound rang for a few moments before dissipating.

He wished he could see Gwenn one last time. He wanted to tell her he loved her for the rest of his life. Luckily, it did not seem like that would require a whole lot of time.

Behind him came another set of armor clinking softly. He did not turn, thinking it perhaps Ajax or Perseus, or both, hoping to get in his mind again before the fight.

“What’s the strategy, then?”

Lucius rounded with shock and horror. It was Gwenn. She was fully armored and armed, a complete murmillo. Her visor was pulled up so he could see her lovely face.

“What are you doing here?”

“Fighting with you.”

He blinked. “You can’t. It’s...it’s all set, Gwenn. I took care of it. You can’t do it.”

“Watch me. Do you see anyone stopping me?”

“You’re a madwoman with a sword in a tunnel full of gladiators! Who’s going to stop you?”

“That’s what I thought, too.” She smiled at him. “I’m a free woman. I can fight in the gladiator fights if I decide to.”  She looked at him and smiled. “You can make that stupid shape with your mouth all you want. I signed the papers with Publius. It’s all very official. The editor’s going to announce me and everything.”

“I forbade you.” He put his hands up, trying to grab her, but it was awkward with the spear and the shield. “I forbade you from this
very
thing last night!”

“Yes, love.” She closed the visor on her helmet. The editor outside was just getting to their introduction. Slaves readied at the gates, preparing to open them.

“Did you hear me? I forbid you from doing this. This is forbidden. You are forbade.”

“Yes, love.” The gates swung open, and Gwenn stepped forward. “You can stop me out there, how about that?”

––––––––

W
ith as much cockiness as she showed to Lucius, some outside observer might have thought Gwenn was dead certain of their success in the arena.

She was dead certain that the two of them were certainly dead. But she found little reason in living without Lucius around, and less in letting him die alone on the sands.

Still—she had no intentions of dying easy, or even plans of dying at all. Rather, a deep acceptance of her and her lover’s death ran through her. It was the both of them, together in everything, or nothing at all.

From a gate on the other side of the arena, Ajax and Perseus approached. They raised their weapons to the crowd, clamoring for attention. The crowd ate it up, tossing flowers down at their approach.

For Lucius and Gwenn—Orion and Artemis—there were a great many rumbles of disapproval. Lots of booing followed Lucius. Words of his apparent crimes had spread all around the city, and Senator Otho made no mistake of clarifying that was the reason why Lucius was to die today.

But strangely, there were even more boos for Gwenn.

It seemed perfectly acceptable for some that Lucius had “murdered” a woman in high-standing. But for a woman to fight alongside a man against other men?

That
was an outrage.

The four of them arrived at the center of the arena, weapons ready.

“They’ll try to isolate us,” said Lucius. “Pick us off one by one. Do not let them.”

Gwenn nodded.

“Puteoli!” Otho boomed. “You shall have an experience unlike any other today. For the first time in the history of the arena, I give you a condemned murderer to face his justice under the towering might of Ajax and Perseus, champions of House Malleola!”

The crowd cheered.

“And not only that,” said Otho, “but at the side of the sickening coward Orion, the adulterer, the murderer, is his gladiator bride, Artemis. What morals does she have to volunteer to fight by the side of such a foul beast? She clearly is the worst of the lot, and deserves justice for her
many
indiscretions. Today, Puteoli—that justice shall be yours!”

The cheers from before doubled, intermixed with heavy boos as Gwenn raised her arms to the crowd for show.

Now, Otho fell silent, letting the crowd ready themselves. It was a short minute, perhaps, before he would make the decision to start.

Ajax, the retarius, had no helmet. He was not as good-looking as many retiarii, but the fine shape of his body more than made up for it in the minds of the crowd. His heavy chest tapered down in a v shape to a lithe torso, and every muscle was oiled and ready. In one hand swung the long, weighted net.

Were Gwenn to slow for a moment, it would catch her, and that could very well be the end. And that end would come in the form of his trident, polished and sharp, bright gold-plated steel gleaming in the sunlight.

Perseus fought as a secutor—and Gwenn felt she had plenty of experience with those from her battle on the bridge in weeks past. The similarity of the outfits struck her—the same helmet with just the two eye holes, the huge shield, the short sword, the heavy armor over his shoulder and legs. But that was where the similarities ended. The secutor Gwenn fought had been a woman, and a very skilled, muscular woman at that.

Perseus, though, dwarfed her at nearly twice Gwenn’s size. His thighs looked like a column of spears banded together.

In the stands, Senator Otho gave the signal, and the crowd let out a lusty roar as the fighters began.

Right away the tactic of Ajax and Perseus was clear—they targeted Gwenn. Perseus moved in on one side, closing Lucius off with his immense shield. It was large enough to cover him both from Gwenn’s attacks and any thrusts incoming from Lucius’s spear. While Perseus held the border, Ajax swept in with his trident and net.

The net was a tricky thing. Weighted, it was nearly as heavy as a shield. It could be tossed over a man completely, tangling him up, but could also be used as a sort of grappling hook to pull him in or to sweep at his legs.

Gwenn, though she was more heavily armored than Ajax, could easily be overcome by the net and her armor negated.

Ajax swung the net again and Gwenn grabbed for it, wrapping it around her arm. She used the closed distance to thrust into Ajax, but he was ready for her and slammed the blade of his trident forward. It skimmed off the edge of her shield and Gwenn felt a sudden sharp pain in her shoulder, next to her neck, where the trident blades cut hard through her inked flesh.

A flesh wound only, but a good one.

First blood to their team.

––––––––

I
t did not go well for them. Lucius attacked again and again with his spear, and again and again Perseus drove him back with his shield. Their weapons clanged heavily, reverberating heavily across the arena.

The long reach of his spear meant that Lucius could pick his shots, but Perseus seemed to be picking them at the same time, blocking everything he threw out.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Otho sitting with many other Senators. They were enjoying themselves greatly, it seemed—especially Otho.

Upon seeing Gwenn’s blood spilled, a great rage filled Lucius.

He sprinted hard—flanking the surprisingly mobile Perseus. Taking Ajax from behind, he thrust hard—but Perseus shouted out a warning to his partner, and Ajax dodged the worst of the blow.

Still, Lucius’s spear met flesh, and a long slash had appeared on Ajax’s back.

Suddenly, they had traded opponents—Ajax versus Lucius, and Gwenn versus Perseus.

Ajax retaliated immediately, tossing his net out and following it with a quick jab from his trident. The net wrapped around Lucius’s spear, and the jab hit his hand—and the spear was gone, just like that. Ajax flung the spear backward with his net where it landed underneath Perseus’s feet. Grinning, the secutor smashed it in half.

That was a problem. The crowd seethed with anticipation, smelling an end.

But Lucius was not defenseless yet. He had a dagger still in the same hand that held his shield. Quickly, he moved it his right hand so that each was filled.  The duel with Ajax continued. Lucius knew all the tricks of the retarius, and had in fact taught Ajax much of what he knew.

But he hadn’t taught him everything. All he needed was a good opening and a little luck.

No luck came. Ajax tossed his net again and tried to cover Lucius’s body. Lucius blocked with his shield and then shrugged the net over to his hand with the dagger, trying to cut it open.

But, the distraction paid off for Ajax. A hot, scorching pain landed in his thigh, immobilizing his whole leg. He looked down and saw the trident stuck there—but only for a moment. Grinning, Ajax pulled it out—and the real damage was done from the hooked ends of the trident’s blades. His thigh ripped open, and blood gushed out hard.

Ajax thrust again, but Lucius was able to roll away and block, out of the net. He almost tried to go on the offensive again until he noticed his dagger was still caught in the net. Ajax grabbed it and tossed it far away, burying it in the sand.