The Immortal Scrolls

by Kristin Secorsky

  The slave kept his head down the entire time he was being bid on. Amara finally won him, paid the man, and went to collect. They lined up their purchases and walked back to the ludus. Amara ordered them fed, cleaned, and well rested. She and Tiberius could not determine worthiness without giving them an equal chance to get strong again. When night came she, Tiberius, and Lucian went to talk with the new recruits. They passed by the centurion’s cell.

  “Stand!” ordered Tiberius. He was a strong, handsome man with black hair and brown eyes. He was not born a werewolf but turned one sometime in his early forties. His hair had had streaks of gray before he turned, but since then he’d stopped aging. He was old, not as old as she, but still the oldest and most powerful werewolf Amara had ever met. They were an unusual couple, but it had worked so far.

  “What is your name, slave?” Amara asked.

  “Androcles,” he said.

  Amara smiled wickedly and walked off. Tiberius followed her to the next cell. Lucian stayed behind.

  “Do you have any fighting skills?” Lucian asked.

  “I was a centurion for the legion in Britannia and a former weapons trainer,” answered Androcles.

  “Very good,” said Lucian, obviously impressed. “Listen, I don’t know what you did or what happened that you became a slave, and I don’t really care. You can be useful to us. Live through your first fight in the arena, and you will be given an extraordinary gift.”

  Androcles looked at the young man. He could have sworn his eyes flashed from brown to yellow for a moment. He was handsome, very muscular, with short-cropped black hair. He was a younger image of Tiberius, and Androcles realized he must be his son. He wondered what kind of gift. Freedom would be the best gift. He was desperate for Araceli. She consumed his every thought and dream. He was worried what her father had done to her and if she had been married off. Would he ever be able to find her?

  Lucian tapped the metal bars, and a pair of guards came over. They removed Androcles from his cell and sent him to the baths to get cleaned up. He was to start training in the morning. He would need it to survive.

  Araceli was sick. It was her wedding night, a night she had been dreading for weeks now. She was bathed and oiled. Her slaves had dressed her in a short, sheer gown, and she was waiting for Antonius to come. Her blood had not come yet. Araceli stared at the little bag Elek had given her a few weeks before and ran her hands along her flat, soft belly. She wondered if she was carrying Androcles’s baby. The timing would be close enough for everyone to think she’d conceived with Antonius. She took the bag out onto the balcony, emptied the contents over the railing, and watched as the little bits of herbs and seeds blew away into the night. So be it, she thought.

  Araceli returned inside to pray. She lit the incense and waved the smoke over her. She prayed to the gods to reunite her and Androcles. She prayed for his safety. And she prayed for strength to make it through the days until they were together again.

  It was not long before Antonius entered the chamber that she was to share with him. Araceli was perched on the edge of the bed. She started to tremble. Antonius walked to the middle of the room and removed his tunic. He stood there for a moment, proud and hard. He was not a bad looking man. Actually, he was gorgeous. And he was even pleasant to be around. But he isn’t Androcles, she thought sadly.

  Antonius strode over to the bed. Araceli stood up as he approached.

  “Wife,” he said with a smoldering smile plastered on his face.

  “Husband,” she replied shakily, not able to meet his eyes.

  Antonius took her chin in his hand and made her look at him. The look said to her that she’d better enjoy this or at least pretend for her own good. He kissed her gently for a few seconds and then pulled away. Araceli reached her trembling hands up around her neck to unhook the material. Antonius watched with pleasure as the gown slid off her body and down to her feet. She scooted onto the bed and lay down. Antonius climbed on top of her. Forgive me, Androcles, she thought as she fought back tears. Antonius entered her and began to move. Araceli closed her eyes and thought of Androcles.

  When Antonius finished, he rolled off to the side and lay in bed. “Maybe you will enjoy it more when you get to know me,” he said casually.

  So he had noticed, she thought. “Uh-huh,” she muttered politely.

  “We are leaving for my villa in Herculaneum tomorrow for the summer. You will love it there,” he said proudly. “I have already ordered your things packed.”

  Araceli felt like she had a rock in her stomach. How can I find out where Androcles was sold to if I leave Rome? she thought desperately.

  “I hope you are pleased,” he said as he kissed her neck.

  “Yes, it would please me to go,” she lied.

  “Get some sleep, my love,” he said and wrapped his arms around her.

  Araceli lay there stiffly as tears trickled down her cheeks. She tried her hardest not to start sobbing. So Antonius loves me, she thought. She thought about how much more difficult that would make it for her to be out of his sight. Araceli closed her eyes and tried to sleep. But sleep did not come easy.

  “Can’t sleep?” Antonius asked her a few minutes later.

  “No,” she whispered.

  Antonius nibbled at her ear. His breath was warm. “Nor I,” he whispered huskily. One of his hands cupped her breast and then moved slowly down her stomach and stopped between her legs. “I have the cure for that, you know,” he said flirtatiously as his fingers began to move. Her body responded out of instinct, which he mistook for enjoyment. It was all the encouragement he needed. His fingers swirled and teased as the tension built inside her body. She knew his pride would not let him stop until he thought he had given her pleasure. Araceli felt him enter her. Antonius thrust hungrily as she climaxed. His own cries of pleasure soon followed. Antonius stayed inside her until he fell asleep. He became soft and slid out of her easily as she maneuvered her way out of the bed. Araceli went to their private bath and stepped quietly into the water. She felt guilty for enjoying Antonius’s persistent touch though her heart and soul belonged to Androcles. She looked back at her husband asleep on the bed. It could have been worse. It could have been the senator, she thought. As she relaxed in the water, Araceli thought of them leaving for Herculaneum and vowed to not give up her search for Androcles.

  Androcles dug into his food hungrily. He had been training hard for weeks at the ludus. His body was strong once again, and he had built back all the muscle he had lost. Tiberius and Lucian used him to train the old and new men in weapons. He had a knack for identifying which weapon would be most suited for each man.

  Androcles also noticed the past few weeks that the men who had been gladiators before he came were all big and strong, and they radiated respect for Tiberius. He seemed more like a leader than a master. They were even given better quarters. However, when the woman, Amara, would come by, they were silent and almost fearful. There was something odd about that woman, he noticed, and the young blond man who followed her around though he was not a slave. He would catch her staring at him and whispering to her companion from the villa balcony that overlooked the training grounds.

  There was a match today in the arena. He waited anxiously in his cell to see if they were going to fight him. He was not afraid to fight. He had been in some of the worst battles in his life in Britannia. The Britons were fierce fighters.

  After the men finished eating they went out to the courtyard. Lucian was waiting.

  “Listen up, dogs,” Lucian shouted at the men. “Today is the day to prove yourselves worthy of this ludus. Live, and you shall be rewarded.” He handed the fighting assignments to the men.

  Androcles finally got to look at the list. Some of the fights were unfairly matched. His was set to be one-on-one. He noticed that none of the men from this ludus were fighting each other. He felt a pair of eyes on him and looked up. The domina was watching him from the shadows of the villa. Androcles couldn’t help but wonder why
she seemed so familiar to him. Then she disappeared inside as suddenly as she had appeared. Androcles joined the other gladiators getting ready to leave.

  Araceli heaved into the bowl her slaves had given her. She had been vomiting for days and only in the morning. She was sure she was with child. This morning Antonius noticed and sent for Elek. He had accompanied them to Herculaneum. She refused to leave Rome without him. The men returned and helped her into bed. Elek examined her and felt her belly.

  “You have not bled?” he asked.

  “No,” she confirmed.

  “Then this is simple. You are with child. The vomiting will subside in a few weeks,” said Elek. Araceli smiled.

  Antonius smiled and leaned over to kiss Araceli on the forehead. “Wine,” he called. The slaves rushed over and poured him a glass. He nodded for another and handed one to Elek. “You shall drink a toast with me.”

  Elek looked at Araceli from the corner of his eye as he sipped some wine. He knew as well as she who the father was. She was much farther along than Antonius suspected, but Elek would go along with whatever Araceli told him.

  Araceli had forgotten they were going to the arena today. She hated gladiatorial fights. “Antonius, I’m not sure I feel up to going to the fights,” she said. She hoped he would leave her alone and let her take this chance to send out a slave to find out about Androcles. Elek had been able to discover the slave traders he was sold to but not anything about who purchased him from there.

  “I insist you accompany me, my love,” said Antonius. “You will go by litter, as we are already late.”

  Araceli took a deep breath, trying to hide her disappointment. Her slaves helped her out of bed to her bath. She bathed and dressed quickly. The nausea even subsided enough for her to eat some fruit and bread.

  A short while later they were making their way through the special entrance on the north end of the arena to the special balcony seating for the privileged few. Inside the box already sat the magistrate and a few other people she did not know. There was an extraordinarily beautiful woman with dark, curly hair. She was very pale, and her dark eyes were almost black. She was exotic and powerful looking. She sat next to an equally attractive, slightly older man. The magistrate rose to announce them.

  “Tiberius Decius Habitus and his lovely wife Amara, this is the Legatus Antonius Lucilius Scaeva and his wife Araceli, cousin to the Emperor Vespasian,” he said with a slight inflection of importance on the emperor’s name. They nodded their heads to one another. “Tiberius runs the ludus from which several of today’s gladiators come from.”

  Araceli smiled politely. The magistrate continued to introduce them to the other people in the box, including another ludus owner and several senators on vacation as they were. Suddenly the ground shook a little. Antonius grabbed hold of her, and the shaking quickly subsided.

  “Just a little tremor,” the magistrate said, laughing. “Herculaneum has been feeling them quite often lately. Nothing to worry about.”

  Araceli felt nauseous from the shaking. She sat down and started fanning her face.

  “Are you all right, dear?” asked the magistrate’s wife.

  “She is with child,” said Antonius proudly. “Water,” he said to a slave.

  “Felicitations,” said the magistrate and several others.

  Araceli felt a little better and looked around at the arena. She glanced at the people in the box and saw the woman Amara looking at her. Feeling slightly unsettled, Araceli smiled politely and looked away. Something about the woman was very strange.

  Her husband Tiberius was wagering with the other men in the box. Then the magistrate made his announcements for the start of the games. They began with the executions for the day. Araceli averted her eyes and prayed for the day to pass quickly.

  Androcles was putting on armor and waiting for his turn to fight and possibly die. Lucian came over to him and handed him a sword.

  “You are next. Fight well or die well,” he said encouragingly.

  Androcles took the sword and nodded to Lucian. Then he closed the piece of his helmet that exposed his face. He prayed to the gods silently for strength. His leg still pained him a little. That was his only concern. Suddenly the doors burst open, and some men dragged back the bloodied, dead bodies of two gladiators from his ludus. Someone pushed Androcles on the back toward the door. He felt as if the world was moving in slow motion as he walked cautiously into the arena. In the center there stood a large man with two swords. The fights are always a bit unfair, he thought. However, Androcles was confident in his skill. The two men rushed at each other. Their metal swords clanged and crashed into each other. Androcles sliced the man’s upper arm, causing him to drop one sword. He may have had two swords, but the man was inexperienced in holding them. Then the man swung at him. Androcles rolled on the ground to dodge the blow.

  “This one used to be a centurion for the legion,” said Tiberius. “Then he got sold as a slave for committing some offensive crime to his dominus, apparently.”

  Araceli head snapped around and looked at the two men fighting in the area. She squinted her eyes and blocked the sun with her hand to try to get a better look. Both men were heavily covered in armor. Then she looked down at the man on the ground. She saw a familiar jagged scar in his leg and gasped. Androcles! she screamed inside her head. Could it really be you? she wondered.

  The man standing knocked off his opponent’s helmet and made a strike at his head. But the man rolled away and swung his sword at the man’s leg, chopping it off at the knee. Then he stood up and turned around. To Araceli’s amazement, it was Androcles. She scooted to the edge of her seat, watching the end of the fight more intently. Androcles swung his sword again at the fallen man and chopped off his head. The crowd cheered wildly. Araceli was smiling broadly and clapping. She was already plotting how to see him. She stood up in the box, hoping he would look her way.

  “Have a favorite, Araceli?” asked the magistrate as he noticed her enthusiasm. “Or did you just win a large wager?” He chuckled.

  Antonius looked at Araceli and then to the arena to see what captured her interest. It was her former guard and lover. Antonius was enraged but didn’t show it. He thought for sure the man would have been sold farther away and instantly regretted stopping Marcus from executing him. He noticed the lady Amara was clapping wildly for the man as well. Antonius thought about what to do for a moment. He knew the man would be refought later in the day. He excused himself and went to speak to his guard.

  Androcles was holding his arms in the air, yelling and encouraging the crowd to cheer for his victory. For the first time in his life the games excited him. He felt more alive than ever. He turned around and around, stopping in front of the magistrate’s box. Androcles saw a woman standing and clapping. He squinted his eyes and took a few steps forward. It couldn’t be, he thought. His heart started to pound rapidly in his chest. Araceli was watching the game. She was here in Herculaneum, and she was all right. He was ecstatic to see her. Androcles placed his hand over his heart and bowed at the box. He could see her smiling, and he knew she had seen him. Androcles backed away to his cell where he would wait for his next fight. Some men were already dragging back his opponent’s corpse.

  “Well done,” Lucian said, clapping him on the back.

  Androcles nodded. “Thank you.” He went back to his cell and sat down on the ground to rest. He had no idea what he would have to face next. A guard walked up to the cell.

  “Water?” the guard asked.

  “Please,” said Androcles as he reached for the cup. He drank quickly and handed the cup back to the guard. The guard looked around sneakily and rushed off.

  “No one offered me water,” said a man he didn’t know in the cell next to him. “Wonder why they are licking your ass.” The man’s voice was full of disdain.

  Androcles looked over at the man. His skin was covered in bloody slashes. “I’m sorry. I would have shared.”

  The man made a disgusted snor
ting noise and looked away.

  Androcles lay down again. He felt very tired all of a sudden. The rush of the kill must be wearing off, he thought. He felt a little dizzy and shut his eyes.

  Antonius returned to his seat. Araceli was lively and happier than he had ever seen her. He knew it was because of Androcles, and he was consumed with jealousy. Antonius saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to look and saw his guard had returned. The guard nodded at him. Antonius gave him a slight nod and turned back to watch the next match.

  “I find what you do so fascinating. Can I come by and watch them train?” Araceli asked Tiberius.

  “It would be an honor to have a cousin of the emperor visit our humble ludus,” Tiberius said politely.

  “Absolutely not,” said Antonius angrily. Everyone in the box turned to look at him. He could tell they thought he was unreasonable. “The baby,” he added.

  “She would be well looked after,” interjected Tiberius.

  Araceli knew she would have to work on Antonius to gain his trust so she could sneak off and try to talk to Androcles at the ludus. She had no idea that Antonius knew which guard she had been intimate with. She didn’t know he had sent a spy.

  “Maybe one day we will both come see your ludus,” Antonius said, trying not to offend Tiberius and make himself look bad in front of the magistrate.

  Antonius watched the next few games without much attention. He was anxious for Androcles to come back out. His guard had slipped him a powerful sedative that they sometimes used to rig the fights. This would hopefully be the end of Androcles.