by Lynn, R.
broken body now bled out upon the stone ground. Yet despite the tragedy before her, Sellah was perplexed with what Nadria had yelled. What could she have possibly meant?
Focusing on her meaning helped Sellah forget about her surroundings until Barachius opened his mouth to speak.
“Did you enjoy the show?” Barachius laughed, once again causing Sellah’s body to shake alongside his.
Sellah refused to respond to him and instead focused on Nadria as the guards dragged her body away with the others. Some of the charioteers began their processions around the square, and the crowds cheered for their favorites.
The sounds of the wheels on the stone, the clicking of the horses’ hooves, and the shouts of the onlookers still did not drown out Barachius’s heavy breathing.
All Sellah wanted was to run away and leave this place of death and the sickening touch of Barachius. But as much as she struggled, she could not break free of his grasp.
He spun her around in his arms to get a better look at her. She closed her eyes knowing she would not be able to look at his face. “I will enjoy my time with you,” he said as he leaned toward her.
“You will let her go!” Thaddius growled as he drove his chariot through the crowds to Sellah’s side.
Was she dreaming or did Thaddius actually hear her silent pleas and come to claim his property?
“I said let her go! Do not make me come down from this cart!”
Diana shook her mane and stomped her foot as if to reflect Thaddius’s anger.
Supporters of the blues came rushing over to him, pressing Sellah and Barachius closer together.
Sellah opened her eyes and looked upon her captor’s face.
The hint of fear he showed brought wondrous relief.
Thaddius was there—she was not dreaming.
Barachius shoved her out of his grasp, and she fell to the
ground. Tears of liberation pooled in her eyes. A strong and
familiar hand reached down to her. When her fingers
wrapped around his, a fire burned within her chest. Having
him there and holding onto him allowed her to feel a brief
moment of freedom.
“Come up in my cart, and I will take you back to the
stables,” he said as he lifted her effortlessly beside him. Once she was sturdily planted on top of the chariot, he
moved his feet so he stood behind her. With his strapping
arms wrapped around her waist to keep her secure, he led
Diana and the team away from Barachius and back to the
safety of the stables.
Women hollered jealous remarks as they saw Thaddius
give another rival a ride. They wanted to be the ones he
wrapped his arms around, the ones pressed up close to him.
Though through all the evil glares she received, Sellah
couldn’t help but feel safe.
Vettius and Simeon came running to Thaddius when they
pulled into the makeshift stables.
“What happened?” Simeon asked as he reached up and
helped Sellah down. He wrapped her in his arms and pulled
her into his embrace.
“I wanted to see what was happening,” she said as she
looked up to Thaddius.
In truth, he was the real reason she was in the crowd. She
had never seen him race and wanted to catch a glimpse. “And…they killed Nadria!”
She collapsed into Simeon’s chest, tears flowing freely.
He rubbed her back and whispered soothing comments into
her ears, while he looked over at Thaddius as if to ask why
this had happened.
* Thaddius choked back the emotions that rose within him upon seeing Sellah in the arms of Simeon. He cleared his throat and tried to sound composed when he spoke.
“The Emperor had a blood sacrifice to start the games. Nadria, the other girl from the auction, was among them,” he explained.
“That crazy bastard!” Vettius growled.
“Watch your tongue when speaking of the Emperor,” Simeon warned as he looked around to ensure no one had heard his father speak the treasonous words.
“He is not my Emperor. He is men like Barachius’s!” Vettius handed a water-soaked sponge up to Thaddius.
Thaddius took the sponge and wet his lips. Then taking one last look at Sellah, he pulled on the reins and directed his chariot to the start of the race. He shouted back some advice.
“If you want to watch me beat those bastards, there is a good spot at the end of the via. We will be using the army roads for the race as they are wider and straighter.”
W ith expert precision Thaddius guided his chariot in the tight space between the other two blue drivers. He pulled far enough in so that Diana and the horses could rest their snouts on the starting gate.
“Are you two ready for this challenge?” he asked knowing full well by the looks of fear on their faces and the awkward stiffness in their stances that they were not.
“Of course you are,” he tried to encourage. “Now heed my advice. The road of this race is the same one used by the army. That means it will be ruined by ruts caused by the wheels of the army supply carts. Stay to the side of the road at all times. Do not direct your team down its center. If you catch a wheel in the rut, you could risk losing it. We only have to go around this course once, so focus on completing it. Don’t worry about winning. If you finish, then we can continue your training and have you better prepared for the next stage of this tournament.”
As he gave his directions, he looked over their chariots and then their gear. “Where are your gloves?” he asked when he noticed their bare hands.
One of the drivers sheepishly diverted his gaze while the other one found courage to speak.
“We noticed you do not wear any and wanted to be like you.”
“Then you are both idiots. The reins will tear through your hands and you will have nothing left to grip. If the chariot becomes of balanced, which they normally do, you will fall out of your cart and be trampled by the drivers behind you. Look at my hands,” he instructed as he held his palms out for them to see. “They are calloused and scarred. For me, the gloves are pointless.”
The men hurriedly grabbed their gloves and pulled them on. Thaddius tried not to smile, but he couldn’t resist.
“Just do as I have taught you, and you will be fine.”
The trumpets sounded announcing that the race would begin in a few short moments. The crowds screamed alongside the trumpets. They beat their hands on their wine vessels, stomped their feet, and waved the flags of their teams.
Thaddius found his familiar foot grooves, rewrapped the reins tighter to his forearm, and ran his hand over the rough wood of the cart. He then closed his eyes and listened for the breathing of his horses.
When he had managed to block out the roar of the crowd and the taunts of the other drivers and just focus on Diana’s breathing, he knew he was ready.
He matched his breathing to hers and listened for the sound of the gate’s clasp releasing.
The trumpets ceased to make sound and the crowd stilled as they watched the mappa slip from the magistrate’s finger and float to the ground. It was a moment that seemed to
suspend time, and it was that moment that separated a winner from a loser.
The others responded when the mappa touched the ground, but not Thaddius. His cue was the sound of the gate opening. He did not watch the mappa cloth drop. He did not absorb the cracking of the other driver’s whips. He simply listened for the gate to open. It was this sound and this alone that would propel his chariot forward.
He braced himself, clutching tightly to the chariot’s frame, knees bent and ready.
As the cloth was about to touch the ground, the small sound of metal scraping on metal, the sign he waited for, met his ears. The clasp had been released from the gate.
“Hijah!” he screamed, spring
ing Diana forward.
The horses responded immediately and used their bodies to push the gate the rest of the way. Their bond to Thaddius was stronger than that of the drivers who motivated with the whip.
The crowd gasped as the cloth touched the ground and the doors swung open. They turned toward the start line to see Thaddius and his team almost completely free from the gate at the head of the pack.
“Right!” he yelled as the horses veered off following his direction.
They circled the square and prepared to head down the straight stretch of the via.
The crowd cheered and threw cloths onto the circus track. As he passed them, they raised their arms, causing a wave of hands to follow his path. He loved it when they did that, when the crowd became one with the race.
He had the lead on the others and took a brief moment to
show off for his supporters. “Hijah!” he screamed, telling his team to speed up as he wrapped the reins around his waist.
When they were secure, he found sure handholds on either side of his cart and then pushed his body above his head with his hands.
The crowd became a crazed machine as they pointed and cheered for him and his dangerous stunt. Diana led the horses down the road as Thaddius, with his back to his destination, smiled and winked at the driver behind him— one of the greens— before swinging his legs down and regaining proper control of the chariot once more.
The sounds of cracking whips came at faster intervals as the green drivers grew desperate to catch up. He was careful to keep his cart to the side, away from the well-worn paths that previous carts had taken. But the others were not so wise. In an effort to pass him, one of the greens directed his chariot into the center of the road.
Almost immediately his wheel slipped into a rut, causing the whole cart to twist sideways and flip over. The driver jumped free as the cart started into a death-dealing roll, turning multiple times before coming to a halt.
The crowd loved the violence of the race. They screamed in pleasure as they watched the injured horses struggle to stand, and the charioteer as he attempted to dodge chariots that drove straight at him. They shrieked and applauded as he was narrowly missed by a chariot in his attempt to get off the track.
Thaddius wanted to look behind to see what had caused all the commotion, but he could not. His team was coming up to
the end post. He needed to focus on bringing the team around the tight corner.
The crowds lined the turn, leaving little room for one chariot, let alone two, to squeeze by.
“Left!” he called out as he pulled on the reins.
“Left!” he screamed again when his cart was taking the turn too wide.
In his attempt to miss any bystanders, he over
compensated with the sharpness of his turn and ended up scraping his cart along the side of the post.
This slowed him enough for another driver from the greens to gain ground on him. As he straightened out of the turn, the green driver cracked his whip down on Thaddius’s back. Thaddius collapsed forward into his cart and clenched his teeth through the pain.
“Apologies, I was aiming for my horse,” the driver taunted.
Thaddius had no time to seek retribution other than to beat the bastard who had whipped him. He ignored the pain and righted himself as he guided his team to the right side of the road.
“Let’s lose the wretched merchant!” Thaddius yelled to Diana and the team.
Although Thaddius was still in the lead, the green driver was right on his tail. And now they had to race head-on against the few chariots that had not fully made it down the track. Dust created a cloud, causing visibility to be limited and he had to direct his chariot through debris from wrecked carts.
One of the green drivers spotted Thaddius and out of malice turned his chariot, directing it toward Thaddius’s. This
left Thaddius with two options; turn his cart right and risk injuring the crowd or turn to the left and risk losing a wheel.
“Left!” he yelled. Diana pulled her body to the side, followed tightly by the others. His horses narrowly missed the green driver’s team. And as the chariots passed each other, the metal
ornamentation on the sides of their carts met, causing a stream of sparks.
“Bastard!” Thaddius directed at the driver as they locked eyes on each other and passed by.
The crowd screamed and cheered at the display.
Thaddius managed to avoid most of the ruts in the road as he jockeyed his chariot back to the right hand side. It was a straight stretch now to the finish line. Other than the odd piece of broken cart that had fallen onto his side of the road, there was not much for him to worry about hitting.
All the chariots, except those who had lost wheels or flipped, had now made it around the corner and were coming up behind him. The crowd roared as green and blue were neck and neck toward the finish line.
Out of the corner of his eye, Thaddius noticed one of his blue drivers as he kicked at a cart that had lost a wheel. He shook his head in frustration. He had told them to stay to the side, but that driver had obviously not listened and now would not be able to compete in the rest of the tournament.
Thaddius brushed his rising frustration aside and turned back to the race at hand.
“Diana, let’s show the greens why we are the favored team!”
As though she understood his command, she lowered her head, pressing harder into each stride. Following her lead the
other horses did the same and soon the blue chariot began to pull far in front of the green.
The green driver shouted at his horses and accelerated the cracking of his whip on their backs. He was desperate to catch up to Thaddius, but despite his furious beating, his team could not match their pace.
The line of red sand had been laid, and Thaddius could now make it out. All he had to do was cross the line and break the sand, and he would successfully win the first stage of the Grande Maximus.
It was risky to lose focus this close to finishing. But even so, Thaddius allowed his pride to best him, and he turned around to see how far ahead of his challenger he was. His team was just over one cart length in front. There was no way the green driver would be able to overtake him.
Using his lead as another excuse to show off for the crowd, and send a message to Barachius, he once again unfastened the reins from his forearm. But this time he let them drop to the floor as he hoisted his body up, resting his foot on either side of the chariot.
It took him a moment to secure his footing before he stood and raised his arms. The crowds cheered in delight as he rode across the finish line. Diana’s hooves broke through the red sand and the trumpets proclaimed his victory.
No charioteer had ever dared to attempt a stunt during a competition, yet Thaddius had successfully done two, and the spectators loved him for it.
He steadied himself as he dropped back into his chariot. He picked up the reins and slowed his team while the crowd sang out for him.
“Thaddius the great charioteer, approached the Grande
Maximus with no fear. Robed in the blue of the Veneta team, he is Thaddius the champion of Rome!”
H e circled before them as they sang. Men and women tossed flowers and blue cloths in front of his chariot. One down, five remaining. If his competition was as easy as this race, then despite whatever the circus threw at him, he should easily win the tournament. And that meant not only keeping his title and land, but gaining Barachius’s as well.
Women yelled proposals of marriage and fornication. The trumpets continued to resound. Men smashed their empty vessels on the ground. All around him once again turned to a chaos of noise and disorder. What was once a proud street in Rome, now appeared to be a wasteland, decorated in colorful debris and spilled wine.
It wasn’t long before he tired of the crowd’s praise and head toward the stables. After he unhitched his team and had his attendants water and brush them, he moved through the crowd looking for Sellah and Simeon.
“Bravely won!” someone said as he held out his hand. Thaddius did not take the time to show gratitude, and instead brushed past the man. If he stopped every time
someone wanted to shake his hand, he wouldn’t get anywhere.
Men cheered and patted him on the back as he passed. Each time he grit his teeth and shook off the pain it caused. After receiving the whip across his shoulder, he had a new sympathy for what Simeon had had to endure.
When a familiar auburn streak came into view, he quickened his pace through the crowd to get to her.
“Sellah?” he called as he pushed men out of his path.
She caught his eye and smiled in relief. “Thaddius! That was just wonderful. I’ve never….”
“Where are Simeon and Vettius?” he interrupted.
Sellah hesitated before replying. “When I saw you drive to the stables, I did not think and came straight here. Perhaps they followed me.”
Thaddius smiled as he took her in. She still refused to bring her eyes up to his, but he didn’t mind. It allowed him to look her over without feeling intrusive.
“Sellah, you foolish girl,” he smirked. “This would make it the second time I rescued you today.”
The affection in his taunt gave her courage to allow her eyes to meet his once more. Lifting her head, she slowly brought her gaze up to his.
“Foolish?” She raised her eyebrows and placed her hands over her hips. “Do you not think some of the stunts you pulled out there were foolish?”
“You allow your slaves to address you so offhandedly?” a conceited voice dripping with self importance cut Thaddius off from his reply.
Barachius had come up behind the pair and waited for the most inconvenient time to interrupt their conversation. Sellah had provided him with just that.
As soon as she heard his voice she dropped to her knees in front of Thaddius. “Apologies Dominus, I spoke out of order.”
Thaddius did not reply but moved his body between her and Barachius’. “Have you come to congratulate me for beating your men?” Thaddius taunted as he clenched his fists preparing for a fight.