The Oath Keeper

by Alaric Longward

  I had stuck my head in a hornet’s nest.

  Red raised a cup of wine at us. “I salute you, friends, and brothers,” he called out. “Tomorrow, you start training. Early, incredibly early you will begin your training. But drink today and throw up tomorrow! It won’t happen often that you are served Falernian, gladiators!”

  And then, after several cups of wine, I heard noise.

  It was the metallic sound of gates, and I turned to look. Few guards stood next to it, and the bald trainer, the Egg Eater walked past us.

  I felt Ajax nearby and looked up to see him staring out to the gates.

  He grunted. “That, old man, is the first sword of the murmillo. Ox. Secutor Lucius, and Neptune, the retiarii. All special. They often serve their master. Red finds it improper, but they go out often anyway. I can see why it bothers him. Goliath and I do not like it. On the other hand, most would kill to be allowed to join that inner circle of that Pollio. Very few are even considered.”

  Had Ulrich been considered? And failed?

  “I think they kill and fight for people when they get to that circle,” I murmured.

  He gave me a quick look. “Not without Tiberius’s consent.”

  I sneered.

  He smiled uncertainly. “You think they fight out there? I think they fuck. But to fight?” He shook his head. “That would be risky. The Princeps don’t stomach anyone setting up games without his say so.” We watched the milling party at the gates. “See them, the glorious bastards.”

  I did.

  They came forth, all three. A horde of guards were there with them, walking next to and behind the lot, their hands on their sword’s hilts, and many were carrying torches.

  They had had another session with Pollio.

  And I would have to get in.

  “No. I don’t think they fight. I think he has sex with them,” Ajax murmured, and then looked startled as he had spoken the words aloud. “Don’t tell them I said so.”

  I said nothing and ate.

  Ox was passing us, and his eyes went to mine. He frowned.

  They went to the barracks, and the slaves started to unpack the gear.

  The feast was a fine one, a short one, and later, I got up and walked for my barracks, leaving most others seated. I had no idea where I would be sleeping. We had not been allowed inside all day, but we had waited outside for the ceremony.

  Now the guard nearby nodded as I approached the murmillo and thraeces barrack.

  I went in and found a long, long corridor leading left, and rooms with doors made of bars stood closed or open, depending if they were occupied or not.

  I looked directly ahead.

  There was a cell right there, and it would be the most annoying one in the barrack. No peace whatsoever, when men would be walking in and out, I would sleep badly. There was my place, anyway, and there, too, stood Ox. He was walking back and forth in my cell. The bushy-haired boy was with him and had just carried a straw mattress in. He looked unnerved by Ox’s presence.

  I walked forward and stood on my doorway, and both noticed me. Ox turned to face me, and I watched him, and he watched me. The boy froze.

  “I think,” I whispered. “that you might be in a wrong cell.”

  He nodded, his eyes gleaming in the semi darkness. A barred window high up the wall let in some light of Mani. “I am. I know where my cell is, man. It is the quiet, spacious one at the end of the place. It looks like a home, not a shitter. I saw you fighting.”

  “You think your cell is a home,” I said. “I find that sad.”

  He smiled thinly. “I was born a slave. Many others were in here. I take you have tasted freedom?”

  I shrugged. “I have.”

  He looked envious. “You killed Ulrich,” he said softly. “Good. He was an odd man. Strange. We did not really trust him. Asked a lot of questions, he did.”

  “Did he not swear the oaths?” I said. “Brother, and all that.”

  He shrugged and laughed. “I am not Agamemnon. Nor Red. Or some of the others. I am far more practical.” He looked at me with an odd look in his eye. “He did swear a lot of oaths. A lot. One to Varro, others to us, when he hoped he would be trusted. I find it odd.”

  “What?”

  He looked at his fingers. “He was a good fighter. Better than most. Had seen battle.” He looked at me with suspicion. “He died fast. Easily. It seemed like he lost all energy to fight, eh? Just…terrified. And you…” He shook his head. “Odd. They celebrate you, but he was nerveless, and a coward. At least when he fought you.”

  “And you have never seen a man go nerveless when they see their enemy carving a way for you,” I said. “It happens in battle. You should be free to see it.”

  He licked his lips. “But I am not free. And I still know battle. I won that day. I put down a secutor of the House of Poseidon. And yet, I find it odd how he just went limp like an old man’s cock.”

  I stared at him, and the boy looked at his feet. I sneered at Ox. “I have not seen old men’s cocks, other than my own, and it works well enough. I take it you are popular whore as well?”

  I was pushing him hard, but I was tired and in no mood to be questioned. And I would not look weak, when he was speaking so freely of Ulrich and his Pollio.

  His face lost color, and he licked his lips. The boy seemed to shake in terror, inspecting his hands.

  Finally, the man spoke again, controlling his need to kill me. “And why are you here?” he whispered.

  “Why?” I sneered. “I am here to—”

  He waved me down. “Shh. I know the wound.”

  “You know the wound?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”

  He tapped his head. “Come now. I saw the stain. I know it is mine. Odd, I know, but I know my mark. I asked around. Ares says you were thieving and captured by praetorians, and Sejanus, the praetorian prefect, sold you to the battle. Digging deeper…” he said, and pushed the boy to the side, as he squared off against me. “I learned more.”

  He had learnt more elsewhere. Someone had asked Sejanus’s guards, and they all had been told the tale. A false one.

  He poked a finger my way. “Turns out you are a deserter. Auxilia deserter. And you were there, near Pollio’s house. It tastes…strange.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “Like an old man’s cock? You have had it? Whore.”

  He snarled and stepped right up to me. “You had better—”

  I pushed him back.

  He balled his fists as he spoke. “You see, deserters rarely make it into a ludus,” he said. “I know the match was special, but deserters are oath breaking curs, scum. Rome fears such men and kills them publicly. They get executed. Tiger or lion, or just killed for sport early in the games. And Sejanus sold you to fight, into a fight with a chance of survival. And here you are. A survivor.”

  “Yes,” I snarled. “All that.”

  He eyed me. “Explain it all. Tell me why you had armor—”

  “I was a soldier!” I told him. “It was mine.”

  “And why you were there, and why—”

  I stepped forward. “Listen, you bastard. Aye, I am a deserter. And not really a thief. I was lurking around there, because I knew Ulrich. I knew he was in this ludus. I saw how men of this ludus were escorted out and followed you lot. I hated him, see? That is why the bastard froze. The shit killed my wife in Germania. My wife. Shot her in the back. So, I left the legions and found him. My brother and me, we followed you lot, and figured we might question one of you. To find a way in here.”

  “You stabbed Lucius in the eye,” he said with wonder. “Just like that. To get answers.”

  I spread my hands and nodded. “It is too bad. But the gods were on my side, for when I failed, and Lucius had nothing to say, and I survived your cowardly attack—”

  “It wasn’t—”

  I went on, cutting him off. “And I was captured, and my brother was killed, by you, you shit, I was sent to fight him. Imagine how the gods must love me, O
x. Aye, they love me well. I killed him, and now all I want to do is to go home.”

  “Home to a dead wife,” he said softly. “My, the gods do love you.”

  “Home to my son,” I snarled. “I will do anything. Surely the gods would not let me kill Ulrich—”

  “A fanciful story,” he murmured. “But I don’t believe in gods. If they are real, the gods piss on us. They don’t help us.”

  “They piss on us, but some helped me,” I spat. “You saw how I killed them, your brothers. I ripped through them like they were made of quivering fat.” I went forward, and he frowned as I got up to him. “Aye, the gods love me. I have served the shit Tiberius himself once. I have done his foul deeds. I have served the shit-footed traitor, and his murdering family all my life. I have killed hundreds of men. And you accost me? I do not fear any man alive. The ones I did, I killed. I never lie. I will—”

  He laughed. “Oh, come now,” he laughed. “Don’t lecture me. Never give a lecture on honesty to a liar. I know lies. And your tale? It could be or might not be. Either way; you owe us. I killed your brother. Aye. But you owe us. For one eye.”

  The door banged close behind me.

  I felt movement nearby.

  I whirled, and a large shadow was swinging a fist. I lifted my hand and felt a huge crash of a fist against it and punched back. It connected and crushed a nose, my second one that day. I pummeled hard at a midsection of the man and kicked up, while I took a fist to my chin. I felt dizzy for a moment, growled the pain away, and grasped the man’s ear, pulling him to my forehead.

  I let go of a limp body. It was Lucius, the secutor.

  Then a powerful arm curled around my throat. Another locked the arm in place.

  I was choking. I struggled and fell back, but Ox did not let go. He was hissing and panting in my ear, and I struggled mightily, but he fell back to the bed and took me with him. I could not get off.

  “What now, killer of hundreds?” he whispered to my ear. “Go and lie to your gods.”

  Then, suddenly, I heard the door breaking and saw a man there. Two, and then another. One was the Pig.

  Then I blacked out.

  ***

  When I came to, I found the cell was empty.

  I was alive. I sat up, trying to breathe properly, stood up, and slipped on blood. I watched around and saw the boy in the shadows, staring at me. Then he went away.

  I sat down and watched as the door was locked by a guard, who stopped to look at the shattered frame. He called for help, and they managed to lock it anyway and then went away.

  I sat there and wondered at the turns of the day, rubbing my face.

  I had cast a fishing line. I could only hope the fish would nibble it.

  And that I would survive Agamemnon and Ox, and his gang of friends.

  But first, I had to survive Varro, who had had enough of being poor.

  CHAPTER 7

  That night, or very early morning, Ares came to me. The doorway was opened, and he, looking around suspiciously, stepped inside. Guards followed and promptly walked to me. They had irons, and as I swung to stand, they were there. A spear was hovering near my chest, and the guards were pulling at my arms.

  “Come easily, Brennus,” Ares growled. “It is a job we have for you.”

  “A job?” I asked, sensing trouble.

  “A job,” he agreed. “Get used to them. You, too, must feed the family, and your brothers. You come with me, and you do your duty, and then we come back home, eh? Don’t even think about making trouble.” He eyed me, as they put the irons on my wrists. “Good luck for us you were not badly hurt today. Not sure what Red was trying to pull, pushing you to Agamemnon’s path like that. Damned stupid. But, apart from bruises, you seem to be in order. Here.”

  A cup of wine was handed to me, and I drank it suspiciously.

  I watched the men moving in the corridors, and then I heard the Pig grunting and knew there were others.

  “What service is this?” I asked, and then a bag was pulled over my head.

  “A dark one,” Ares said and chuckled.

  I fought the panic. The need to fight out of the darkness.

  And I knew it was useless.

  I knew it might be very well that Pollio wanted a word with me, and that was our goal. So, I let them pull me along.

  We were taken out and then through the yard. We marched through the gates, and I heard Varro nearby, his voice strained, but I could not hear what he said.

  Then, there was a wagon, and men sitting next to me, clash of steel on steel, and the creak of wood and iron, as the wagon started on its way.

  We traveled for a long time.

  I heard the Pig grunting.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  He snorted. “I just followed the other one.”

  “Which one?” I asked. “Bla—”

  Then, suddenly, we stopped, and I felt it was morning. Birds were singing; there was a warm air on our faces and some distant calls of people. We heard the cage opened, then we were pulled out, one by one, and led forward, into an echoing room or a corridor, and then hands were pulling us by our chains along on an uneven, uphill path.

  We were on a hillside, I was sure of it.

  After a few moments, we heard greetings, and we were stopped. We stood there, uncertain, until the bags were pulled out, and I blinked in a surprisingly bright light. Birds were singing even louder, and I heard the voice of men and women, eating and feasting, and I looked around.

  And back down.

  We had passed under a bridge far below, and the path had indeed led up a hill, and we stood on top of it.

  Around us, rose mountains, and woods spread in thick layers, and Rome could be seen in its terrifying majesty to the west.

  “What are they doing?” Blaesus wondered.

  They had taken us to the hills, and there, around us, stood men and women in togae.

  “They will have us fight,” I said simply. “And I doubt it is legal.”

  Blaesus was next to me, his teeth chattering. “See. I told you that you would drag us to doom.”

  The Pig grunted. “I guess you were right, for once. They look like bastards, the lot.”

  They were correct to be worried. I looked around at the group of people and saw the cold, cruel indifference these high, rich Romans had for their slaves, but this time, there was something more.

  Excitement.

  “Yeah. They mean to have us fight each other,” I said. “Or someone else.”

  “Obviously, you damned idiot,” Blaesus snarled. “This is bad.”

  And it was not Pollio who was in control.

  It was Ares and someone else.

  It was the senator Longinus I had seen with Agrippina.

  I saw him, not far. He was gesturing for us, speaking to Ares. I heard his voice, which was slightly bored. “This must be kept a secret. Stop making a scene. I need these people if we are to pressure Tiberius, and they must see I have balls and means to defy the Princeps. They won’t support our intended marriages otherwise. This is a gift they appreciate, but not if you are here, complaining about coin!”

  “I don’t want to hear about your balls,” Ares snarled. “This is more—”

  Longinus stepped close to Ares to silence him. “Shh! There are far more people here than agreed, I know, but—”

  “Far too many,” Ares said softly. “You told us there would be few people only. You agreed to pay us per head.”

  “I have friends, and family here,” said a man haughtily. His face was framed by silvery locks, and still, he was a young man. “Important men. And I pay enough to be allowed some liberties and extras. We are a consular family, friend. And I, too, shall find a way to bring the gens Cassia honor.”

  “Lucius Cassius Longinus,” Ares sighed. “You have paid nothing yet, not even for the people we agreed on. Not an aureus. We need to discuss that. Not later, but now.”

  Lucius rubbed his face and looked disgusted. “I am offering them som
ething excellent. Something rare. And you want me to pay you now? I should be with them, and not you.”

  “How will you even guard them,” Ares moaned. “You cannot put a sword in their hands and expect them to die obediently.”

  Blaesus cursed. “Did you hear?”

  I grunted.

  “There are guards,” Longinus said imperiously. “See?”

  Around us, men were converging from the woods. They looked like warriors, and there were ten of them.

  Blaesus cursed softly.

  The Pig grunted in agreement. “Fucked. For once, I get what I have asked for. A proper humping.”

  I looked at Longinus, and I missed Ares’s comment. The noble waved his hand to the groups of people. “Obviously, I don’t carry such coin with me. I assumed your people can deal with it later.”

  Ares leaned closer. “I can set them loose. I can take off the chains and give them swords right now. And do not spew shit at me, Longinus, of how you were not prepared. You are trying to cheat me. I will not see a coin later, yes? You know we are breaking some rules with our common friend.” He poked a finger on Longinus’s chest. “Domitius Ahenobarbus, and that shit Marcus Vinicius are in this as well, and I know they sent you coin for this. You meet here and there and try to gather support for your causes and future glory. That is why we reached out, and why you agreed. Marriages to high places, eh? Well, pay me for this and gather admiration from the other shits. This is Brennus, and worth his weight in silver. They all want to see him die, no?”

  Longinus pulled him closer. “Silence. Fine. I have the coin in his carriage down the south side path, through the woods. We will send a boy with you. You greedy peasant, you…” He swallowed. “They can fight, right? Not sick?”

  “They are fine. A bit bruised. A special event,” Ares said with a grin. “Famed Brennus, and his captains. All for you. And you many slay them. If they live after they fall, you may have your guests do what they will. In short, they are yours.”

  Longinus clapped his shoulder, and Ares walked to gaze on us, while Longinus prepared a boy to go with him for the coin. “Well, boys. We shall be leaving Rome, and we will fart on Pollio and his greed. You have a glorious morning here. A glorious one, I tell you. I’m so happy to be rid of this place.”