Seventh Dimension - The King - Book 2, A Young Adult Fantasy

by Lorilyn Roberts

  “Did I come to the right place?” I asked.

  “Come in,” he said at last.

  I followed the man inside. The apartment was richly furnished, similar to Brutus’s although not quite as plush with the multicultural influence. Paintings of horses and chariots decorated the walls.

  With nightfall approaching, oil lamps burned. I could hear a woman’s voice and a child squealing in the back.

  “Sit, sit,” he said. “I’m Dominus. I’m the owner of the horses for the white team.”

  I found a chair. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

  Dominus leaned back. “I used to race myself, until I got injured. Then I bought my own horses. Trouble is they weren’t good enough. So I imported some of the finest. We pasture them when they are young on the lower slopes of Mount Argaeus. Then we bring them over to the stables when they are old enough to start training.”

  Dominus studied me. “How much do you know about horses?”

  “I took care of Brutus’s horses in Nazareth.”

  “I’m sure if you worked for him you must be a good worker. Know anything about driving a chariot?”

  I shook my head.

  “Well, I lost one of my gladiators last week—he was trampled.”

  I swallowed.

  “I need someone to replace him. Think you can be ready in three weeks for your first race?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never done any chariot racing.”

  Dominus eyed me inquisitively. “How old are you, Son?”

  “Almost twenty.”

  “You can live in the barracks with the slaves. If I train you, you have to be indentured for a year as payback. If you win, you receive a nice paycheck for every race.”

  How much would that be? I was afraid to ask—yet. That might sound rude.

  “But I’m the winner, not you.” Dominus seemed to think this point was important.

  “Do I have to live in the barracks with the slaves?”

  “Do you have some money to pay room and board?”

  “If you pay me, shouldn’t I be able to pay for that?”

  “Do you have money now?”

  “Yes, from my earnings with Brutus.”

  “You can check around. In fact, across the street is a flat that’s not too expensive.”

  “Can I try racing first—make sure I like it?”

  “Sure. Win your first race and you get your first paycheck.”

  “What happens if I don’t win?”

  “You either win or pay off your indenture agreement by working in the mines. This sport is too expensive not to win.”

  Was I getting in over my head? I didn’t want to look like a coward.

  The man pointed his finger at me. “Can you come out tomorrow?”

  I nodded.

  “Great.” Dominus grasped at his cane and stood, limping over to a table. He picked up an ink pen and wrote on a slip of parchment. “This is where you need to go. I’ll tell Cynisca to look for you in the morning. She’ll be your trainer.”

  “She?”

  “Cynisca is the best trainer I’ve ever had.”

  I couldn’t imagine being trained by a woman.

  “So we are all set?” Dominus asked.

  “Yes.” I reached out to shake his hand. “I’ll decide tomorrow and let you know for sure.”

  “Sounds good.” Dominus walked me to the door. “Check out that boarding house. I know the owner. Tell him I sent you.”

  “Thank you.” As I left, I waved farewell to my new employer and hurried across the street. A woman gladiator—I’d never heard of such a thing. What would that be like, to be trained by a woman? My teachers never mentioned women gladiators in history class.

  A few minutes later, I entered the apartment lobby. Several Greek and Roman statues greeted me. I didn’t understand why they were so ill-clothed.

  An older man stood behind the counter. I gave him my name, adding that Dominus had suggested his rooming house to me.

  The man smiled. “I can rent to you week-to-week. The rooms are clean.”

  I nodded. “Sounds good.”

  The man handed me a slip. “Did you just move here?”

  “I’m training to be a charioteer.”

  He raised his eyebrow. “Dominus has the best team of horses. You will win many races. He only hires the best gladiators.”

  “It would be an honor to win,” I replied. I paid the clerk the rent and left to find my room.

  More half-naked gods and goddesses lined the hallway. I found my apartment and was pleased with its size and cleanliness. I lit the oil lamp and sat on my bed, studying the wooden walls and floor. I laid my head on the bed and soon fell asleep.

  ~~~

  The next morning I needed to decide—should I take my money or not? I expected the training to be demanding. Did I want to risk losing it? I hid my shekels in the folds of the bed. No one had a key to the room, and I checked that the locked window was secure. I wouldn’t tell anyone where I lived.

  I left my apartment and snatched a quick snack from a street vender on the square. Walking past the city gates, I admired the harbor. It would rival any modern day construction in both beauty and size.

  Birds circled overhead as fishermen threw their nets out for the morning catch. I’d come back later when I had more time.

  I passed the hippodrome and continued south until I came to the Equi Palmati Stables. A private dirt road opened up to a large field. Five brown horses and one white horse were galloping through the pasture. The stables were barely visible from the road. To the right was a short circular dirt track.

  A dark-skinned man approached me, smiling.

  I introduced myself. “I’m Daniel, son of Aviv, from Jerusalem, and I’m here to meet Cynisca.”

  The man replied, “I spoke to Dominus this morning and he told me to expect you. Come this way.”

  I followed him to the stables. The man opened the gate and inside the stall was a young woman. She was tall and slender, in excellent physical shape, and had her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wore no makeup. When she saw me, she smiled.

  The attendant introduced us and left. An awkward silence followed. She was wrapping a horse’s leg. “Give me a second,” the girl said, “and I’ll be right with you.”

  “No problem.” I stepped outside the stall and studied my surroundings. I liked being around horses again.

  A few minutes later, Cynisca walked out and joined me. She interrupted my musings with her friendly chatter. “I’m glad to meet you, Daniel. May I call you Daniel?”

  “Sure.”

  “I mean, it’s all very informal here, as long as the boss isn’t around.”

  I nodded.

  “So, you want to be a gladiator?”

  “A charioteer.”

  “You want to race?” she clarified.

  “I want to try it. I told Dominus I would let him know after today.”

  Cynisca scrutinized me—much as I’d seen animals evaluated at a livestock show. Could I meet her standards?

  She ran her fingers along my arm muscles. “Well, you’re strong enough to drive a chariot. Have you ever driven one?”

  I shook my head.

  “I’m going to train you. Your first race is in three weeks. We’ll start you with racing two horses. Once you can handle two, we’ll try you with four. Four is harder to steer than two.”

  “All right.” That sounded like a good plan.

  “Let’s go out front and I’ll show you some things with the chariot. Tomorrow we’ll continue your training at the hippodrome.”

  Cynisca laughed. “We’ll go slowly before throwing you to the lions—just joking.”

  I didn’t think it was funny.

  She turned more serious. “You need a natural affinity, good balance, depth perception, and focus.”

  I could add one more quality—courage. “Sure,” I replied.

  Cynisca led me towards the front. She introduced me to several horses, noting w
hich ones I seemed to prefer.

  She told me about the history of chariot racing, some of her travels to Rome and Greece, where she had competed, and how they imported the horses from Africa. Every year her family made the trek, not an easy journey in first-century Palestine.

  Cynisca called over the man I had met earlier and asked him to hook up two horses to one of the chariots. Once the setup was completed, she had me step up onto the chariot. When she joined me, my heart fluttered. Together we rode behind the horses on the dirt practice field. She demonstrated what to do effortlessly. I was impressed with her skill and strength.

  My mind wandered. Did she have a boyfriend? How could such a beautiful young woman remain single at her age? Most women in this century were married by the time they were sixteen. She might have been twenty or twenty-one—too old for an unmarried woman.

  The day passed too briskly—or maybe I was having too much fun. As evening approached, I knew I had to compete. I couldn’t wait to come back the following day. I wanted to impress Cynisca. She came from a long line of gladiators. Women weren’t allowed to compete in the Olympics but they could race. She had won many races.

  “So where are you staying, Daniel?” Cynisca asked, after we put the horses back in the stall.

  “Close to the hippodrome, within walking distance.”

  “That’s good,” she replied. “I still live with my family. Haven’t met the right one to marry yet.” She tossed her head and laughed. “I’m too independent.”

  I respected her free spirit.

  “Did your mother race?” I asked.

  “Mother and Father. They named me after the famous woman gladiator from Egypt.”

  “It’s a pretty name.”

  “Thank you.” She stood and reached her hand out to me.

  I followed her lead.

  “You will be an excellent charioteer because you have the best trainer in the world.”

  I didn’t know how to respond. She probably said that to everyone. As I strode home, I realized I hadn’t thought about Shale all day. The only thing I could think about was racing—and getting to know Cynisca better.

  CHAPTER 34 TRAINING

  The next day I entered the hippodrome, awestruck. The pristine structure stood in ruins in my time. To see the arena in its glory now left me speechless.

  I ran my hand along the kukar stone at the gated entrance. The inscription surprised me—TIBERIUM TIVS PILATUS. The Pilate stone—the only archeological evidence of the prefect’s existence. I’d seen this stone in the Jerusalem museum. Would I have a chance to meet the governor?

  I walked down the steps and entered through the triumphal gate. The semicircular track spread out before me. The seats extended up on all sides like a football stadium. I imagined the roar of twenty-five thousand fans, the thundering of horses, and the clamor of chariots.

  A cold sweat came over me—partly from fright and partly from excitement.

  Cynisca was at the flat end of the stadium by the stables. She waved. I smiled and ambled towards her. She wore what looked like a very expensive one-piece bathing suit—the female version of a charioteer’s wardrobe. Her exalted status of lead trainer was obvious as others submitted to her. She didn’t show a hint of intimidation from the male gladiators.

  Her hair was down today, with the straight ends touching her shoulders. Her mannerisms exuded a confidence I wasn’t used to seeing in a young woman, but when had I met a woman gladiator?

  The men at the far end were in various stages of preparation. Most were suited up in traditional racing garb. Since I was still a trainee, I didn’t have mine. Instead, I wore a rather drab brown cloak.

  I was anxious to hitch up my horses. Inhaling deeply, my stomach crawled up—I should have skipped breakfast.

  Cynisca greeted me. “So you decided, huh?”

  “To race?”

  She nodded.

  “Absolutely. My mind was made up yesterday.”

  “I wanted to make sure. Sometimes when trainees leave they reconsider.”

  “I want to try it,” I replied.

  Cynisca placed her hands on her waist, as if going through a mental checklist. “You know it’s a year-long commitment?”

  That meant I’d have to stay in Caesarea longer than I wanted. If I did change my mind, though, what would they do about it? I had nothing to lose—except my life. Would not the money be worth the risk?

  Before I replied, Cynisca continued. “I’m sure he’d release you after the first couple of days if you changed your mind.”

  “I’d doubt he’d want me racing if my heart wasn’t in it.”

  “That would be a grave mistake,” Cynisca agreed. “But the closer we get to your first race and the greater the investment in your training, the more he’s relying on you.”

  “Is he a fair person?”

  Cynisca laughed broadly. “He’s never here. He shows up for the races. That’s the best kind of employer, isn’t it?”

  She winked. “If you win, you become rich. Many have done so—if they aren’t trampled by the chariots or the horses.”

  “Do the fans know who you are?”

  “You mean do the fans know who their favorite gladiators are?”

  I nodded.

  Cynisca chuckled. “Sure they know. We have the most devoted followers in Caesarea. If you win, they will worship you as if you were a god. If you lose, they’ll want you replaced by someone else.”

  I changed the subject. “Who are those men?” I pointed to the gladiators by the stables.

  Cynisca followed my finger. “Oh, those are different teams. We each have a practice time on the tracks. Our slot is in about an hour with an hour allotted. You can watch a few of the teams, but I have some other things to go over with you.”

  “Sure.”

  Cynisca waved her hand. “You can learn a lot by watching others.”

  “I plan to do that.”

  Cynisca motioned. “Follow me. Let’s go over some of the rules.”

  We walked over and sat at a shaded table. A chariot pulled by four horses passed us.

  Cynisca smiled. “That’s the red team. We’re the white team.”

  “He has four horses. I thought I was racing two.”

  “Oh, sure, don’t worry. Nidal is an experienced charioteer. He and his brother Tariq Naser are our biggest competition. I want you to study everything they do.”

  “I will.”

  Cynisca leaned over and whispered. “They’re out of this world.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Cynisca slapped her leg and laughed. “That got your attention. They were spectacular even in their first race. I have no idea where they trained. We have yet to beat them. That’s why Dominus is so antsy.”

  “I can beat them,” I said, with more certainty than I felt.

  “They will try to knock you off your chariot, ram your horses.”

  “Is that legal?”

  Cynisca scrunched up her face. “Legal? What does that mean?”

  “Like rules?”

  “Oh, yes, rules. Let me see what we didn’t cover yesterday.”

  Cynisca studied her notes. “I don’t think we talked about this. The chariots are modified war chariots. So when you race, you have to imagine yourself fighting—as if you were fighting to the death.”

  I grimaced. Sounded like an exaggeration. This was just a race. I shrugged. “Whatever.”

  Cynisca furrowed her brow. “You think I’m kidding, don’t you?”

  I shook my head. “No, but you make it sound so—so scary.”

  Cynisca leaned over the table. “When you’re racing, you must have that killer instinct. Those gladiators are out for blood. If you don’t have that killer instinct, you’ll get slammed—thrown into the spina or metae.”

  “What’s the—”

  “The stone pillars. Caesar! Sounds like you’ve never even seen a race before.”

  I wasn’t going to tell her I hadn’t.

  “
Understand?”

  I nodded.

  Cynisca slapped the table with her hand.

  I jumped.

  She threw up her hands. “Show some emotion! Are you scared, excited?”

  “Maybe a little of both.”

  She laughed. “If I can do it, you can do it. Show some passion.”

  “I got it.”

  “Good. The most dangerous points are at the turns on each side of the spina. This is where most of the collisions take place. If you lose control going into the turn, your rig can overturn, and you, along with your horses, are likely to be crushed by the other chariots as they round the post behind you.”

  I took a deep breath.

  Cynisca probed my eyes. “Have you ever seen a man crushed by a chariot?”

  I shook my head.

  Cynisca sighed. “It’s not a pretty sight, my friend. Even if you live, you can be maimed for life.”

  My stomach soured at the mere mention of crushed.

  “Did you see Dominus’s cane?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s what happens if you get hit by another charioteer. Dominus was fortunate he wasn’t killed.”

  “So Dominus was run over by a chariot?”

  Cynisca rolled her eyes. “Not just once, many times. That’s why he’s a hero. A lesser man would have died, but he had the will to live.”

  “Have you ever wrecked?” I asked

  Cynisca glanced away. “Once. After that, my father wouldn’t let me race anymore. So now I’m the head trainer.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “And you didn’t get hurt?”

  Cynisca frowned. “I did, but I’m fine now. I broke some bones. I was lucky.”

  I hoped I was as lucky.

  “The main thing is,” Cynisca continued, “if you do fall off, get out of the way. Don’t lie on the track like a fool.”

  Cynisca smacked her hands. “It can happen that fast. The best thing to do is not fall. No matter what, don’t turn over your chariot. And watch out for Tariq and Nidal.”

  I nodded.

  She glanced down at her notes. “Where was I? You were asking about rules. You can’t deliberately ram into your opponent, but who’s going to stop the race if someone does?”

  I didn’t know.

  “You’ve got to stay clear of everyone. That’s how our last gladiator was killed. He didn’t and he was trampled by Nidal and Tariq.”