by Lynn, R.
“How are you faring my dear friend?” Thaddius asked. The medicos stood over Simeon’s back expertly stitching together Simeon’s exposed flesh. Upon seeing this, Thaddius faltered in his light step.
“What is this?” he asked.
“Some of my wounds will not close so the medicos has
decided to fasten my flesh together” Simeon grit his teeth every time the medicos penetrated his wound with the needle. A wave of guilt washed over Thaddius. He and he alone had forced this foul punishment on his dearest friend. And yet Simeon chose to forgive what still brought him pain. He was a good man, better than Thaddius could ever dream of being. The medicos looked over and noticed Thaddius’s pale
face. “I am almost finished, fret not!”
“I can’t remember the last time you apologized to me,”
Simeon joked, hoping to distract Thaddius.
“Even while undergoing torture you still jest!” Thaddius
grinned as he walked over to face Simeon.“Simeon… I know
we just, somehow, came back on good terms. But….” “You need my help?” Simeon cut in.
Feeling no need to lie to his friend after all he had put him
through, Thaddius did what was often hard for him to do—he
spoke honestly.
“Yes, the first race of the Grande Maximus was moved to
today. And I have never raced without you on the sidelines.
And of course, it just doesn’t seem right. Do you feel up to
coming?” Thaddius watched as Simeon thought over his
words.
“Was your apology sincere, or for the purpose of
convincing me to come?” he asked.
“Honestly? Both. I wanted to apologize to you a few days
ago and was on my way here when I got, uh… distracted. I
didn’t want to ask you to come without the apology you
deserved.”
When Thaddius saw Simeon nod, he knew he had won
him over. “I would hug you, but I do not want to bring you more pain.”
“Thaddius, do you know why I asked the medicos to sew my wounds?” he asked, taking the tone from jovial to a more serious note.
“I cannot say I do,” Thaddius replied as he watched his friend, wondering what he was about to reveal.
“My father had already informed me about the race, and I wanted to attend for your sake,” Simeon confessed.
“After all I have done?” With his hands shaking Thaddius reached up and brushed back his hair. His eyes darted from one object to another as he tried to avoid Simeon’s penetrating gaze. What on earth would possess him to willingly attend without first having been given an apology?
“I don’t understand,” Thaddius stuttered as he worked over every possible reason in his head.
“Do not be foolish Thaddius. I forgave you a long time ago. Yes, I said hurtful things that first night, but I was furious with you. I may be wounded, but I am not dead, and my love for you has survived my lashings intact. We are brothers, Thad!” Simeon pulled down his cloak and struggled to stand.
The medicos steadied his movements until he was satisfied that Simeon would not fall over.
“That said, I have not forgotten your actions. And while I love you, it will take a long time for my trust to rebuild.”
“That is but fair,” Thaddius admitted before offering his arm to his friend. “Come Simeon, enough of this emotional talk, we have a race to get to.”
The two slowly made their way to the trigarium where two carts, three chariots with the teams already hitched, and a
group of people waited. The carts had been painted blue and the horses decorated with blue ribbons, all in honor of his team.
Thaddius caught sight of Sellah as she held fast to Diana’s reins. He noted how closely she was also observing them. Every time Simeon flinched from the pain, Sellah did as well. She did not like seeing him in such a state.
Thaddius called out instructions. “Vettius, Simeon, and Sellah will ride with me. Place the drivers and their attendants in the other cart!” He couldn’t help but notice the awkward exchange between Sellah and Simeon when hearing his orders. The look that passed between them reminded him of the night he had come upon them in the tent.
Emotions threatened to erupt once more, but he forced them back down.
“Congratulations on your betrothal, Dominus,” Vettius said.
Thaddius watched her as she stared wide-eyed at him before turning her head and hiding it in Diana’s snout.
“You are betrothed, brother?” Simeon shouted in excitement as he patted Thaddius on the back. “This is good news! Who is the lucky lady?” he asked as he studied Thaddius’s angered face with confusion.
When he failed to answer, Simeon looked between Thaddius and his father, hoping to find understanding. “Have I upset you?” he asked.
Vettius cut in to explain. “Simeon, Thaddius has offered Calista his hand in marriage.”
“The girl from the auction? I really have missed a lot. No matter. You can tell me everything on the ride over.” Simeon smiled as he hobbled over to the cart.
* Sellah kept her eyes to the ground as she too made her way to the cart. The bitter sting of the news she had just heard had left her feeling ill. She was foolish to feel so. Thaddius and she were never anything more than master and slave. But despite her best efforts to convince herself of such, she still felt justified in her feelings.
“Allow me to help you, Simeon,” Sellah said as she wrapped her arms around his waist to steady him into the cart.
Their sudden closeness stirred up memories of the night she had visited him in the tent. She had been avoiding him ever since. By the way he watched her now, Sellah could tell he wanted to know why. But now was not the time to discuss such matters, so Sellah dipped her head to avoid his gaze and sat across from him in the cart.
* Thaddius could not help but notice how the two continued to behave. Theirs was not the expression of lovers as he had imagined they would demonstrate. Yet, their responses were also not those that mere friends gave, either. Perhaps they were still trying to sort out their feelings for each other. He sauntered over to the cart and pulled himself up.
The tension between Sellah and Simeon left a heavy presence in the air. It was unexplainable, almost awkward to be near. And as he entered the cart, he noted how Sellah’s back stiffened and how she clutched the fabric of her stola.
His addition had definitely added to the awkwardness, but why?
To change the mood of the group, Thaddius popped his head out and called for Vettius. “Vettius, will you be joining us?” His voice had a pleading tone to it.
A mischievous smile spread over Vettius’s face as he looked at Thaddius in a knowing fashion. “No, go ahead. I will ride with the others. I am sure you three have many things you would like to discuss!”
Despite Vettius leaving them alone to talk, not one of them said a word. And they remained in their stubborn silence all the way to Rome.
* As the caravan arrived at the town, supporters of the blue team lined the streets to watch them pass. Townspeople called out for Thaddius, waving flags and tossing palm branches on the ground before them.
Men, women, and children were dressed in the color of their favorite team, red, green, white or blue. Houses bore flags or paint on their doors. The city had come alive with the Grande Maximus.
Yet despite the full array of colors, green and blue supporters outnumbered the others three to one. Women clung to the hands of their children and men to the handles of their wine vessels as they wove through the crowds toward the circus.
Emperor Caligula had arranged for a section of Rome’s streets to be portioned off for the first race. And as they came closer to the site, Sellah could sense the excited pulse of the
crowd. Supporters of the greens began throwing rotten vegetables at Thaddius and his teams. This infuriated the loyal blue supporters and a fight broke out. Men and
women attacked each other in defence of their team’s honor.
Sellah watched in astonishment as men bashed each other with vessels of wine while women clawed at other women’s faces and pulled their hair.
“Is it always like this?” she asked as she braved putting her head out the window to watch.
Sellah could barely see through the throngs of people or hear her thoughts over their shouts. She had never seen or experienced anything like this before in her life. And a part of her wondered if they would even make it to the race in one piece.
She pulled her head back into the cart, narrowly avoiding a flying cabbage.
“Yes it is pretty much the same every time,” Simeon replied, amused by the stunned look on her face.
Thaddius paid no attention to what went on outside the cart. Instead, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
Sellah watched him with a bold curiosity and then turned to Simeon. She motioned with her eyes to Thaddius as if to ask Simeon what he was doing.
“He is going over the race in his mind. It is his way of preparing,” Simeon explained.
*
Thaddius opened one eye and looked at Sellah. A shy smile crept over his face as he watched her for brief moment before closing it again and returning to his thoughts. His moment was so close he could almost taste it. There was no doubt he would win. He would have tough competition but he would win. He had to.
“T haddius, we missed you in the procession this morning.
I was afraid the blues would not be attending,” Barachius taunted as he saw Thaddius approach. “I do not doubt you thought such things. Or contrived them to be so,” Thaddius added in an attempt to irritate Barachius.
But Barachius laughed off the accusation and raised his hand to greet Thaddius. Pushing his hand aside, Thaddius walked by. The gasps of those who watched fell upon his ears and a broad smile appeared for all to see. No doubt they found him rude for ignoring the greeting. But rude or not, it felt marvellous leaving Barachius looking foolish before them.
Besides, he didn’t have enough time to tell Barachius all the things he had wanted to. Now that the blues had registered, he needed to make his way to his team and get them prepared.
It didn’t take long for Thaddius to find the blue team’s makeshift stables. They were at the edge of the square which housed all of the charioteers and their teams. The area was decorated with various blue banners and paintings.
He paused, taking in a deep breath so that he could absorb every moment, every smell, before jumping into business. When he reached the blues, he began giving out orders in rapid succession. “Sellah, see that Diana, and the rest of my team’s hipposandals are securely on. Last race one of the leather straps came loose, and she almost lost her shoe. Vettius, Simeon, I need you to help me robe. You men, help the other drivers into their gear.”
He pointed in different directions as he shouted out his orders. This was his territory, and he wouldn’t overlook one small detail.
Vettius and Simeon brought over his helmet and his leather waist, knee, and shin pads. He stood as a warrior preparing for battle, eyes focused, chest out, shoulders back, head high. He raised his arms and Vettius slipped on his blue cloak, adjusting it over his back. Then both he and Simeon set to strapping on the rest of Thaddius’s gear.
And when finished, they took a step back to look over their work. The blue Veneta team emblem was proudly displayed over Thaddius’s heart, and his leather accessories made him look fierce.
“You will scare the other drivers from the track!” Vettius beamed like a proud father.
The trumpets sounded, calling for the charioteers to make their way to the starting gates. A smile spread across Thaddius’s face. His time was so close now.
“I would wish you luck, but you won’t need it,” Simeon
joked as he patted Thaddius on the back and shoved him in the direction of his chariot.
Thaddius walked around his team, taking a moment to stop and encourage each horse. It was the routine which he repeated before each race.
His hand ran over the familiar leather strap, and he used it for leverage to pull himself up into the cart. He found the markings for his feet and looped the reins around his wrist. Before he gave the commands for the horses to leave, he turned to wave goodbye to Simeon and Vettius. All the while his eyes darted around the stables, trying to catch one last glimpse of Sellah. But try as he might, he could not locate here anywhere.
“Hijah!” he screamed and the horses jumped into motion. As he pulled up to the starting line, he was notified that Emperor Caligula had something planned and that they would offer the people one final procession before the races started.
Thaddius impatiently waited, eager to finish with the formalities and get on with the race. *
“Welcome to the first stage of the Grande Maximus!” the Emperor shouted from his perch to the assembled masses. “Today we honor the god’s with a blood sacrifice.”
He raised his arms in the air, and on command a group of guards walked onto the track pulling a chain of men and women. The guards shoved them to their knees in a line in front of the swelling crowds.
“These worthless slaves have been kindly offered forward by our very own Barachius of the greens!”
The crowd divided between cheers and taunts at the mention of the greens. Sellah pushed her way forward so she could see what was happening. Something within her told her not to look, that it would be a mistake. But she ignored her inner voice and continued to make her way through the crowd to the front.
When she neared an opening, she was finally able to see the shackled men and women. They were forced on their knees with soldiers over them, swords pressed to the backs of their necks. Sellah faltered in her step and allowed her eyes to roam over every person who would senselessly lose their lives.
As her eyes made it to the frail form of a woman in bindings, she paused. There was something vaguely familiar about this girl. But try as she might Sellah couldn’t place the memory. If only she could get a look at the girl’s face.
In a fleeting moment of bravery, the girl lifted her head, taking in for one last time the word around her. And when her eyes locked on Sellah’s, she offered a smile.
“Nadria?” Sellah screamed as she recognized the girl from the bathhouse. This was the girl, who like her and Accalia, had suffered at the hands of the guard Kaeso.
“Someone stop this! Please we must do something. What have they done to deserve public execution?” Sellah screamed, but her voice was lost in the chants of those around her.
A meaty hand rested on Sellah’s shoulder, and she could recognize the scent of wine and sweat.
“They have done nothing other than to look at me the wrong way,” he laughed, his whole flabby body jiggling and shaking Sellah’s shoulder.
Cautiously, Sellah turned to see the face of the man who had plagued her dreams. Barachius.
“You cannot allow this to happen,” Sellah pleaded as she fell to her knees in front of the man.
Sweat dripped off his plump chins as he looked down at her. “I assure you I can!”
“Please, is there anything I can do to convince you otherwise?” She knew full well the consequences of her offer. But what other choice did she have? Innocent people would die all because of the man she hated more than anything.
Grabbing her hair, he yanked her head back so he could look upon her. He bent low, but thankfully due to his enormous belly, he couldn’t get too close to her face.
“Your offer bears no weight with me. When all this is done, you will be mine, and I will do as I please with you. You will regret the day you defied me at that auction.” He finished by spitting in her face.
The crowd fell silent as the Emperor raised his arm out straight. His hand was clenched in a fist with his thumb sticking out. If he put his thumb down, they would die. If he held it upwards, they would be spared. But they all knew what he would do. He had promised a blood offering, and a blood offer
ing they would get.
Barachius yanked Sellah up by her hair and turned her to watch the spectacle unfold. He held her tightly to his body, forcing her to feel his every breath against her back.
The crowd cheered as the Emperor’s first command was death. Sellah closed her eyes and tried to turn her head, but Barachius held fast to her.
The sound of blade upon flesh and bone, the lifeless thump of the body as it fell forward, and the screams of the crowd met her ears. She squeezed her eyes tighter together, not wanting the image before her to haunt her memories more than the sounds already would.
“You should watch as your little friend from the auction is next!” Barachius whispered into her ear. The stench of his breath curdled her stomach, and she lost her reserve and began to cry.
“You monster!” she screamed as she struggled to free herself from his grasp to no avail.
“That is true, and soon I will be your monster!”
Taking a moment to compose herself, she thought about Nadria. Although they were never really friends, she knew she needed to offer the girl one last act of kindness before she died.
Opening her eyes, Sellah focused on Nadria’s face. She was afraid to look anywhere else for fear of seeing the fallen bodies of those before Nadria.
Their eyes met, and in Nadria’s stare Sellah could see the pain and hurt from the past weeks of her life with Barachius. Death was now a welcomed friend to Nadria.
Sellah smiled and placed her hand over her heart, mentally sending Nadria warm thoughts. And just as the blade was raised and ready to fall down upon Nadria’s back, she screamed forth words that Sellah would never forget.
“You are all slaves!”
The steel rushed downward, cutting through her delicate flesh, a look of peace washed over her tormented face.
Sellah tried to turn her head against Barachius’s fleshy arm. She could no longer stand to look upon the girl whose