by Evans, Casey
When they had been at it for almost 3 hours, Lucius stopped their progress. According to the sun, it was well past the noon hour.
“Why are we stopping? I can kee-”
“Shh….I’m sure you can but I heard something back behind us.” He whispered in her ear. This would not be a good time to run into trouble. He cast around for somewhere to hide. About 5 meters from the creek’s edge he noticed a large bramble of logs and branches. Perhaps they could hide there. He led her over and found it was a better choice than he thought. Tucked safely from view was a small cave-like hole big enough for the both of them if they squeezed very close together.
“It’s probably that guy coming back to start more trouble,” Lucius whispered. If it is it means he’s brought a friend or two. We really cannot afford a fight right now.”
“No.” Petronia agreed. “We cannot.”
Several minutes later they heard someone walking alone the creek. They were making no attempt to hide their presence. That meant they were confident they were about to find whoever they were looking for. They were speaking so loudly he could make out every word they were saying despite Petronia’s ragged breaths in his ear.
“I think the guy was lying, began brother one, “we’d have overtaken them before now. They’ve obviously gone away from the creek and they’re somewhere wandering around in the woods which is where we should be.”
“Your wrong brother,” began the other gladiator, brother two. “I would bet money they’re no more than a 100 meters downstream. We just need to pick up our pace a little.”
Lucius held his breath and prayed. If they even did a cursory search of the area they were bound to find them. His heart was pounding in his chest as he contemplated covering Petronia’s mouth with his hand. She was breathing incredibly loud. He had just about decided to do it when she coughed. To his ear it sounded like an explosion.
The three trackers froze. “What was that?” Primo hissed.
Brother One was just about to reply, but Primo held up his hand for silence. He was pretty sure they were no longer alone. He motioned for them to fan out. He pointed to himself and brother two, then to a tangle of dead wood and branches not far from the steam. They would approach it from either end. It seemed like the perfect place for a boy and a wounded gladiatrix to hide.
Lucius heard them moving again, and this time they were taking great pains to move silently, or nearly so. It was only a matter of time before they were caught. He looked down at Petronia. She did not look up for a fight. That meant it was up to him. Sadly, the only way they would have a chance is if he revealed a long kept secret. He was pretty sure that what he was about to do was going to alienate him from her for good, and he could scarcely think about that.
He looked at her beautiful face again. Even with her burning with fever, and her hair matted down with dried blood and twigs, she looked heavenly. And now he was going to do the one thing that would forever distance them. It would keep her alive, but as for him and her together, well that was a fantasy that was about to end. He closed his eyes and listened to two pairs of feet drawing closer and closer. This is it. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. They were so soft and warm. He inhaled her sour breath and didn’t even mind. He breathed in her scent, and though they hadn’t bathed for who knew how long, her smell still sent shivers up and down his spine. A snap of a twig to his right alerted him to the fact that it was time.
* * *
Petronia
* * *
A sudden movement next to her startled her awake. One moment she had been lying in bed enjoying the soft caress of another gladiatrix, then she was back in the woods on fire with fever and a pounding headache. A cry of surprise and the clash of metal caused her curiosity to get the better of her. She rolled over, about to say something to Lucius, only to find him gone. Then it hit her. There was a battle going on, and he was in the middle of it. She could not let him fight alone for them. It sounded like more than one person was involved in the melee from the sound and if he died because of trying to save her… She couldn’t finish the thought. Despite their difference in age, and the fact that he was younger, she discovered that the boy… the young man meant something to her. All these thoughts were swirling around in her head as she stood drunkenly, drawing her gladius and throwing down her sheath. What she saw just about made her turn and run the opposite direction.
Standing with its back to her, snarling viciously was a wolf with a coat of sleek black fur, beginning to mat in places from what had to be blood. She glanced around for Lucius half expecting to see him lying on the ground but he was nowhere to be seen and she didn’t know whether to side with the wolf, or with Primo and the two new gladiators who’d come, she expected, to bring her home. The men hadn’t noticed her presence yet as they were too occupied with their wolf problem. She was half tempted to side with the wolf and try to kill the men. Problem was, soon the men were dead she was bound to become the creatures next meal.
Having made up her mind she advanced on the wolf who had not seen her either. Right away she realized she was too slow to strike the frantically moving wolf. Unless he just happened to run by, she would never land a blow. But as luck would have it, the thing bounded away from the men, and noticing her for the first time it leapt over to where she was standing. Now or never she thought as she took a swing with her gladius. The move was almost more coordination than she could muster she was surprised when she felt her blade connect with the bone and sinew of its shoulder. Not much of a blow, but it was better than nothing. Then the wolf did the strangest thing. Rather than attacking her, it retreated a couple steps and stared up at her with its black eyes. She could almost read its expression; one of surprise (she was equally surprised), and one of sorrow? She could swear she had seen that expression before, and those eyes, they also seemed familiar. Had to be her fever, she decided as she readied her next attack.
Out of the corner of her eye she could see Primo and the twins circling around, trying to flank the beast. She could help with that. All she had to do was keep it focused on her. No problem. She stepped in closing he distance and took a swing at the wolf. She was just too injured to be effective and the beast easily sidestepped her attack. The weird thing was, it didn’t attack her. She was easy prey. It could dispatch her in a split second before the others could bring their weapons to bear on it. But the wolf kept looking at her with its sad eyes while keeping tabs on the men. Off to her left she saw Primo signaling her to attack it. She correctly guessed that he wanted a diversion. She was beginning to not really want to hurt the wolf for some odd reason, so she only swung her gladius half-heartedly. But that was enough. In that instant that it was focused on her blade, Primo made his next attack. He charged with surprising speed considering his overall lack of skills. The twins chose that exact moment to attack as well. Only theirs was well timed and born of actual experience.
The battle was on!
The wolf was amazingly fast. So much so that so far just about every strike only found air for a target and pretty soon Petronia found herself rooting for the wolf. A sudden hot, wet spray of blood in her face and she came to realize that although it was blindingly fast, the wolf was not invincible. One of the twins scored a direct his on the beasts left hindquarters causing it to go to the ground in a heap. The brothers moved in for the kill while Primo hung back and watched. The coward!
Suddenly Petronia made up her mind. With Lucius gone and probably killed by these three she was all along in the world and most likely this was her last day so might as well do one thing right. It was a fortunate thing that he had sent the two girls back to the Villa, else they would be dead as well. She always wanted to die with honor in the arena, and she realized this was her arena. This was her Primus and she was going to die here with honor protecting this wild creature who, whatever it did, did not deserve to be carved up by these wicked men. Brother one stepped within range of her blade, and with a great cry she struck. Unfortunately he was able to parti
ally deflect it and her blade only sliced into his left upper arm where it struck bone. As he spun around to bring his blade to bear on Petronia, her sword was wrenched from her fingers and fell to the ground.
The man shook off the wound and struck at Petronia’s unprotected head. Amazingly she managed to duck under the swipe but it was doubtful her luck would hold.
“Wait!”
A sudden sharp cry brought the 3 combatants to a stop. All three looked down where the voice had originated, and laying there was Lucius, covered in blood from multiple wounds and struggling for breath.
Petronia stared down at him in shock. How could this have happened? She asked herself. How could this be?
* * * * *
CHAPTER TWENTY:
The Final Arena
* * * * *
Petronia glanced down in horror at Lucius motionless form. She could not believe she had just taken a sword to her only friend left in the world, and now it was looking like he was dying or dead.
Then she began to second guess herself. Was it really him? The gods know she’d had her share of nightmares and hallucinations over the last several days so part of her brain told her she couldn’t trust anything she saw. All she knew for certain was that she was in the woods fleeing from the very man standing in front of her leering. He was obviously pleased with this turn of events and that alone was a pretty good reason to believe what her eyes were telling her now.
Primo finally broke his silence. “By the gods, woman, you’ve killed your little boyfriend. What will his father say?”
Petronia knelt down beside him. “Say? Y-you can’t t-tell him.” She stammered. “This wasn’t all m-me either. You’ve done m-most of the damage.” She was feeling weaker by the minute. The adrenaline rush that had returned her strength to her in battle was rapidly draining out of her system. She could tell she was nearing collapse…again.
Primo thought for a moment. She was right, he couldn’t say anything. Dominus would never believe that Petronia had attacked his son. On the other hand he would be all too willing to believe he had done it to remove any obstacle in his way to becoming Lanista. The question was what to do with this annoying Gladiatrix? Safest thing would be to kill her right then and there. However, she was Dominus favored gladiator and biggest moneymaker. Killing her might throw suspicion on him as it was well known that she loathed him. It was also known that he had worked her over and even if he said she died in the woods Dominus would know it was his fault. A fighter of her caliber didn’t just die in the woods around here. There were no wild animals to speak of and no escaped slave activity near here either. Her death for any reason would cast suspicion on him. Best to just bring her back and marry her. Of course he’d have to watch his back day and night. That didn’t sound too enjoyable either.
He looked down. Amazingly the boy was beginning to move about. Perhaps he was not hurt so bad after all. So what was he to do with the boy now? He was whispering something in Petronia’s ear. She was nodding her head and looking at him with venom in her eyes. That can’t be good, he thought. At last she straightened.
“You and I have business to attend to slave.”
The way she said the word slave, it was like a curse. She had stood up, gladius in hand, and by the way she was standing, light of foot, and the tilt of her head, he could tell she was spoiling for a fight.
He drew his own blade. “Do you really want to do this Dove? You look like you need a nap more than you need a fight.”
His tone was mocking her, goading her into a fight. No good would come out of a fight, but he just couldn’t help himself. He took a step in her direction and the other two gladiators moved in for the kill but he waved them off. He wanted this for himself.
Even in her weakened state, Petronia knew she could take him, but him and the twins? If she was strong it would not be too difficult for her. Knowing him, he would make them stay out of the fight wanting the glory for himself. If she could dispatch him quickly, then it would be two on one instead of three. And, if Primo died, the twins might just let her go free. They didn’t really have any reason to dislike her. This might work out alright after all.
He struck first, using pure strength and zero tactics. Clearly he thought he could just bulldoze her and gain a quick victory from strength alone. He struck first with his sword, then his dagger. She easily knocked the sword aside and as she parried the dagger she gave a little flick of her wrist and dug the tip of her own weapon deep into the inside of his wrist. He jerked his hand back in shock and pain, simultaneously dropping his weapon. This was going to be too easy she thought as she countered with her gladius. Where he used brute force, she used tactics and finesse. She ducked under her blade and stepped to his left at an angle. In a split second she was off to his side spinning. As she slipped by under his extended arm she let the edge of her gladius slice into his ribs.
He spun around to face her again. As he turned he struck out blindly with his sword and nearly caught her in the face. She was prepared for a skillful attack, not a wild flailing about. She would have to watch out for the unexpected.
Despite his two wounds, he was hammering away at her with his sword and she was getting tired dodging inept strikes. Suddenly she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. One of the twins was trying to get an angle on her. Apparently they had chosen sides. This could not turn out well. If one twin was in the action, the other one surely would be doing the same. Her spinning, ducking, and slicing were serving her well, but she was bound to make a mistake; and she did. She hesitated. She saw an opening and had she taken it, she would have removed one of the brother’s head from his shoulders. She really did not want to kill them. They had trained together for months on end and she had no hard feelings towards them. Sadly, they didn’t share her sympathies. She felt the bite of the blade absent pain. It was just pressure in her side. She didn’t think it was too bad though because when he withdrew his blade there wasn’t a lot of blood on it. A surge of energy soared through her in response to the strike. Her movements were frenetic. She was dodging, spinning, striking like she was two instead of one and the joy of battle returned. She could smell blood in the air. This was a good place to die, she thought to herself. This is my final Arena, and I am ready to die.
Just when she was sure it was her end she suddenly became aware of other fighters in the battle. She recognized their clothing instantly. They were the same band of slaves that had attacked her caravan several months ago. Help at last? It was none too late. She took another slice, this time to her left forearm and the shock of it caused her to drop her blade in the dirt. That was going to cost her. As she continued to spin, slice, parry, and block she noticed fewer and fewer strikes came her way, and then suddenly she slipped on some bloodied rocks and fell to the ground in a bloody heap.
Just when things were going her way. She relaxed her body waiting for the death blow that was surely about to come her way, but instead a bloody had reached down to her. She looked up. The owner of the hand was one of the freed slaves that had apparently come to her aid. He accepted the hand, not because she trusted its owner, but because that was the only way she was going to get back on her feet. He hauled her up. He was a dark skinned, handsome man, built more like an athlete than a gladiator. The usual layer of muscles that gladiators put on from daily abuse in the Ludis were absent on the man and she kind of liked it.
She looked around her. Both twins lay motionless not far from her. That was unfortunate. Beside the man, there were three other freed slaves cleaning their weapons. She also noticed a man dressed like them was lying motionless nearby. Looks like they had not quite escaped unscathed.
He hauled her up. He had long dark brown hair, ragged from a life of being on the run. He reached down and picked up her weapons that had fallen from her hands and she accepted them without comment.
Then she thought of Lucius, but someone was already tending him. A similarly dressed woman was working on his many wounds, cleaning and suturing where n
ecessary. To the boy’s credit, he didn’t make a noise although it had to hurt like Hades.
“You are familiar to us,” the dark man began. “I believe we have met…so to speak.”
Suddenly Petronia felt ashamed. They certainly had met on the battlefield when she had sided against them to protect the boy, and she would still. Suddenly she thought of Primo. She looked around before spotting his body a few meters from where she stood. He was very much dead. She only wished she could have dealt the death blow.
She knelt down beside Lucius. He didn’t look as bad as she had expected. The woman was doing good work.
“What would you like us to do with the boy?” The man asked.
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean is, if we set him loose he could report us to his father and that would be trouble for us. We cannot do that. It would be wiser to just dispatch him right here but my friend there has a soft spot for youngsters.”
“But you can’t do anything to him. He’s my friend. My only friend.”
“No son of a Dominus and Lanista, especially a son of Gaius Gracchus Tiberius will ever be a friend to slaves.”