American Fighter (4 page)

Chapter Four

The sound of wooden swords clashing against wooden shields echoed through the training grounds. Lucius watched the other men battling with one another and took note of how their feet moved. Their focus was solely on their opponent’s movements and not even the sound of thunder in the distance disturbed them. His new trainer, Spurius, thrust a wooden sword at him and a matching shield. There were already marks on the shield and the sword had a few chunks missing from it.

“Now, we’re going to spar and I want you to parry me for as long as you can without striking back. We need to build up your endurance and you’ll need to work on the movement of your feet. You were lucky in the arena, but you need to be the best warrior here if you want to survive to see your slave girl.” Spurius’ had a way of smiling without it reaching his eyes. His lips would curl up and his teeth would show just a little, but his eyes never seemed to move.

Lucius was about to ask him what he meant by being lucky, but the sword was coming at him and he raised his shield to block. The force behind Spurius’ blow almost knocked Lucius to his feet, but he managed to stumble back and recover. He could taste dust in the air as he began to move around a small circle, attempting to keep Spurius at bay. The man was relentless and beat upon the shield until Lucius’ flesh broke out in a sweat and his breathing became labored. They went at it for over an hour before Lucius finally struck out with his sword and swiped Spurius off his feet. A man standing alongside the ring clapped his hands and laughed when he saw Spurius go down.

“You lasted longer than I did the first time,” he shouted as he stepped over the line.

“You were smaller and younger,” Spurius said as he let Lucius help him to his feet. Then he put the sword and the shield back. He was about to give Lucius some pointers on his footwork when there was a shout from the other side of the barracks’ grounds.

Lucius and the stranger watched him as he took off for the screams. From the sound of it, someone had injured their partner pretty bad and they might be short a gladiator in the upcoming fights. Perhaps Lucius would get a chance to dip his feet into the arena again soon after all.

“The name’s Julius, but my last name isn’t Caesar,” the stranger said as he stuck out his bronze hand. Lucius took it and ignored the sounds coming from the other side of the barracks. “You’re new here, so you have to watch your back and make sure you lay off the wine. We’re pitted against each other sometimes, and the rest of these men think the arena is everywhere.”

“So I shouldn’t sleep?” Lucius asked as he followed Julius back to the tent area. There were some women about cleaning and cooking, but most of them were hard looking and would not look up from their labors. Lucius caught the eye of a young one learning how to scrub tunics. When her instructor caught her looking, she slapped the girl’s hand and instructed her to scrub harder.

“No, you just shouldn’t spar with someone you don’t trust. Around here, if someone hurts you outside of the ring you’re allowed to retaliate. But inside the ring, it’s a free for all.” Julius pulled aside the flap of a small tent and ushered Lucius inside.

They settled down on blankets strewn across the floor and Julius offered his new friend a glass of watered down wine. “We have rations, so it’s best to mix the water and wine as light as you can. The best fighters get first choice when it comes to the food and the women around here, so keep your paws off the girl you just saw. She’s not for you.” Julius had chattered on like a clucking hen for over half an hour before Lucius stood at the sound of the bell to call them to supper.

“That’s dinner, right?” he asked as he stood. His stomach growled and Julius shook his head.

“You didn’t hear anything I just said, did you?” he asked incredulously as he pulled aside the tent flap. The two of them made their way through the warm air to the dining tent and waited at the back as the rest of the warriors filed in and obtained their bowls. “I’m staying back here with you because you’re new, but I just want you to know I’m usually one of the first ones up there,” Julius told him with his arms crossed.

A few of the men were giving them odd looks to confirm Julius’ statement, and Lucius felt gratitude for the man. “Thank you,” he said as he stepped up to the female slave serving them. It was the woman he’d caught looking at him while she was washing tunics, and Lucius couldn’t help a small smile at her. She had light green eyes and dirty blonde hair pulled back in a bun at the nape of her neck. The way she had her hair pulled back told him she was young, but she was old enough to know what he wanted from her.

That night, he shared a tent with Julius, but the following day he bought his own with his winnings. He felt guilty he was spending it when he should be saving it for Alba, but he needed somewhere to sleep to keep his strength. For weeks after that night, he trained with Julius and the two of them became close friends.

Little did they know, their manager was planning on pitting them against one another as he saw the way they fought together. The two of them would make a bountiful spectacle.

Chapter Five

She had been washing the linens again. He knew because her hands were soft when they wrapped around his shaft and pulled up to the tip. Lucius sucked in a breath and he smiled at her pale, glowing face in the moonlight. It was so bright out he could make out the freckles dusted across her nose and cheeks. Her plump lips parted gently and he watched as her tongue darted out to taste the tip of his hard cock.

“Lucius,” she moaned as he wrapped his hand in her dirty blonde hair. She was forbidden, claimed by one of the other gladiators, but she only had eyes for him.

“Valeria,” he said her name as her lips found the mushroom head of his cock and he felt hot, moist breath dancing across the sensitive flesh. Her tongue swirled around as she took him into the back of her throat. His hand tightened in her hair and soon she was not the one in control of her pace.

He pushed and pulled as he felt his scrotum tightening and his excitement grew with each shuddering breath. When he pulled her to her feet and pushed her tunic up her thighs, she cried out and stepped away from him. “You know I’d never let you do that to me,” she whispered angrily to him in the dark. Lucius chuckled and approached her with a hand held out. She was like a wild rabbit afraid of a hawk’s shadow.

“I wasn’t going to. I was just going to return the favor,” he told her as he pushed her tunic up again. He found the spot between her milky, soft thighs that made her melt and she forgot that she thought he was going to enter her. The women in the camp knew that if they became pregnant, they would be on the streets as beggars the next morning.

Lucius parted her legs gently as she stumbled against a rough tree trunk, and he found her moist core with his fingers. She took three easily and he put his lips to her swollen nub. Her body convulsed around him almost immediately and he wondered if the man who had claimed her as his was as attentive. Her fingers curled in his brunette hair and her breaths became ragged as he suckled her. When he felt her convulsing, he pulled away from her and shoved her down so that she could greedily take his cock into her mouth.

He thrust forward and she took him into the hilt, halting her breath between his thrusts. Then she felt his thick organ pulsing inside her mouth and swallowed the hot streams of his orgasm. She sucked him dry and stood with her thumb to her lips. Lucius watched her wipe away the last of him with a flick of her tongue and leaned against the tree where she had leaned just seconds before.

Her hips sashayed nicely in the moonlight as she hurried off to find the boar that was lucky enough to have won her over in a bet. He would have her for the entire night, and Lucius found that to be a shame. He pulled down his tunic and slipped his sandals back on. Then he made his way back to his tent for a good night’s rest before his second gladiator battle the next morning.

They were gathering their belongings in the morning when Julius approached Lucius and wished him luck in the arena. “It’s a big one, so there’s going to be some deaths today. I hope you’re not one of them,” Julius said seriously. They had grasped each other’s arms before they stood parted ways to head to the arena separately. The feast had already taken place the night before and a large breakfast complimented with a drink made from the ash of plants had made Lucius feel full rather than energized.

He adorned his armor and wielded his axe like he had done in his first battle and ignored the jeers from the men that had come from out of the city. His reputation for being a man who fought for love was one of his selling points and made the crowd stomp their feet and clap their hands when his face hit the sunlight. They marched around the arena as bets were placed and finally ended in front of the emperor’s podium.

He was there, as always, and was wearing his purple toga to symbolize his power and status in the empire. Then his hand went up to silence the crowd and he smiled at the gladiators. “Welcome,” he boomed. Then they took an oath, and they were paired.

Lucius took to the shadows as he listened to the names being called, and his heart sank as his body broke out in a cold sweat when he realized he was paired up with the man who had become his friend, Julius. Their gazes locked and Julius gave him a brave smile before he found his place in the shadows with the others.

Several fights took place before it was their turn to walk into the arena, and the dirt was caked with blood. It made it difficult for Lucius and Julius to obtain purchase with their footing, but they were determined to be the one who survived the fight. Friendship was forgotten as their axes were raised and the manager of the games called out for them to being.

Their axes clashed like two swords and Lucius blocked a swipe of Julius’ foot by planting his firmly in the dirt. Their body came together and their gazes met as they tried to wrestle their opponent’s weapon from the other. Finally, Lucius gained the upper hand and broke free from the hold Julius had on his wrist.

Chapter Six

The men tried to catch their breath as the crowd began to heckle them. Julius rolled his shoulders and bared his teeth as Lucius rushed him, but he was too late. His axe swung through the air and missed Lucius by a few inches, and the feeling of the blade slicing through the air so close to his arm only propelled him forward.

He had his axe raised and was about to bury it in Julius skull to give him a quick, clean death when a flash of red hair caught his attention. Julius was given enough time to recover as Lucius searched the crowd for the woman he sought. Then he saw her standing just behind the emperor’s podium and his heart sank. Her hair was pulled back and plated neatly and her hands were clasped in front of her. She wore jewels and fine garments, even for someone of the royal family.

“No,” he whispered as he saw the emperor motion for her to come forward and fetch his wine.

The anger at seeing her as one of the emperor’s slave women drove him to do what he did next. He’d lost Alba, but he would not lose another friend to the silly whims of those above him. Lucius swept out his leg and toppled Julius to the ground in one, foul swoop. Then he raised his axe and Julius put his index finger in the air. The game manager asked the crowd if they believe Julius should live or die.

There were nasty jeers and some sad faces, but in the end, the emperor chose to allow Julius to live. He was in a good mood that day, and Lucius did not want to know why. He wondered if the poor, sweet woman he’d known since they were children had fallen prey to the emperor’s hands.

“Thank you,” Julius whispered to him as they exited the arena. Lucius did not hear for he was still searching the crowd for the redheaded woman he’d lost, but she was nowhere in sight.

A female slave approached him slowly with a bowl and a dull blade to scrape the sweat from his body to be put into the creams and perfumes of the wealthy women. Lucius sat down on a stool as he allowed his armor to be stripped off and dropped his axe between his feet. He leaned on the handle as the woman did her work gently and efficiently.

He put his weapon and armor away in a haze as he tried to think of what he could do. Julius met him before he could go back into the arena and demand the attention of the emperor. “Where are you going so fast?” he asked as he blocked Lucius’ attempt at dodging him.

“Alba is the emperor’s slave,” he spat with hatred and disgust.

“And you think you can march out there and demand her back? You have no tact, Lucius. The emperor will not concede a slave in front of thousands of people for one, measly gladiator who barely won his battle today. You don’t have enough money, yet.” Julius gripped Lucius’ upper arms tightly in his grasp and pushed him away from the sunlight that would lead to Alba.

“But she was a peasant of this country before he took her! He had not right to take someone who was born here,” Lucius argued feebly. He knew he had no clout yet, but if he waited a few more fights, he might have enough to buy Alba back from the emperor. Julius had a point, though. The emperor would not concede a slave to a gladiator for a measly amount of money. He would need leverage, too.

That night, he sat at the banquet for the winner and even took a woman to the shadows, but he thought about Alba. He imagined it was her red hair and her stormy, gray eyes staring back at him while he pushed into her. At that moment, he realized he wanted Alba more than he wanted any other woman, and he’d do anything to have a chance to win her back in order to show her how much he cared.

Lucius threw himself into the ring and picked up the heaviest sword he could find. “Teach me,” he demanded of Spurius. The older man picked up a light, short sword and a shield. Then he twisted the sword around in his hand a few times.

“Okay, but only if you make me a promise,” he said quietly as he stepped to the center of the ring. There were no witnesses as everyone was still sleeping off their drink from the night before, but Spurius trusted that Lucius would keep his word.

“What?” Lucius asked to entertain his manager.

“Promise me you’ll fight for one year after you get her back,” he said as he looked into Lucius’ eyes. The two of them stood there for a long time in silence. Lucius knew Spurius was asking him to potentially die after he got everything he wanted, but he needed to learn how to fight with all of the weapons before he would be able to wow the crowd enough to get the emperor’s attention.

“I’ll fight for one year after I get her back, if I get her back,” he spat on the ground after he said the words and lunged at Spurius. As if the ease of the fight had never left him, Spurius easily parried the blow with his shield and side stepped. Lucius lost his footing and toppled to the ground with his heavy sword.

“Fine, I’ll teach you. Lesson number one, don’t always pick up the heaviest, longest sword you can find. You’re quicker on your feet than you are strong, Lucius.” He tapped the tip of his shorter sword to Lucius’ shoulder to make a point.

They had fought long into the morning before the others woke to find breakfast. Spurius knew that Lucius would become his best fighter if he spent the time with him, and he made a silent vow to do just that.