by Ben Kane
'Bastard will be stirring up more trouble in no time.' Brennus watched Figulus with narrowed eyes. 'I know it.'
'Won't be happy until he has killed you,' sighed Sextus. 'And raped Astoria.'
The words were inflammatory.
Brennus raised his sword. 'I'll just go and kill him. Get it over with.'
He was interrupted by Memor, who appeared on the sand alone. 'The fight was over!' he screeched. 'One of the familia was pleading for his life. And what did you do?'
The Gaul did not answer.
'You maimed him!'
'He and his sewer rat friends attacked me and Romulus,' replied Brennus. 'They were going to kill us both.'
'It must have been a mistake,' cried Memor, waving his hands. 'They mistook you for Dacicus fighters.' Clearly he had not seen the start of the altercation.
'It was all planned.'
The lanista ignored his answer. 'When a man pleads for mercy, you do not say what happens.' Memor pointed at the dignitaries' box, shaking with anger. 'Pompey decides!' He waved a fist at the Gaul.
Brennus clenched his jaw.
'All special rights are withdrawn! Astoria can go back to the kitchen where she belongs. I'm taking back your cell too,' Memor sneered. 'Bunk in with some of the others. See how you like it.'
Brennus took a step towards the lanista, longsword raised. 'I ought to cut your throat.'
Memor simply lifted a hand.
Archers on top of the hoarding raised drawn bows.
'Do exactly as I say, or get a belly full of arrows.' The lanista paused. 'And you might stop that black bitch being sold to the Lupanar tomorrow morning.'
Brennus went rigid.
Memor waited.
Romulus watched the standoff with bated breath. There was no way to stop the lanista without also dying.
At last Brennus stepped back.
Memor stared at the big slave for a few moments. Satisfied Brennus wasn't going to take the bait, he stalked from the arena. 'Get back to the cells,' he snarled over his shoulder.
'Son of a whore!' Brennus spat. 'I'll slice him open and make him eat his own guts.'
'It would be good to see that,' Sextus said with a sad smile. 'But you'd be crucified alongside Astoria before the day was over.'
'What can I do?' Brennus' tone was despairing, something Romulus had never heard before. 'I can look after myself, but Astoria needs me.'
'I will care for her.'
'Why?'
'I also hate Memor,' Sextus said calmly. 'Astoria will be safe until you win favour again.'
Hearing this, Romulus nearly said something. They would need allies and it seemed the scissores might be of similar mind. But it was a dangerous matter, one to be discussed in private, behind locked doors.
'Take an oath!' Brennus moved closer, eyes fixed on the other's.
'Before all my gods, I swear it.'
The two men clasped forearms, but it was no time for sentimentality.
'Let's get inside before those archers get restless.'
Sextus strode off to gather his men.
Romulus was trying to think of ways to win over enough gladiators to silence Memor for ever. There is no future in this, he thought, gazing at the bloody figures on the sand. Spartacus had the right idea. Seize freedom.
The setting sun had turned the dead a dark shade of crimson. As they watched, the intimidating shape of Charon entered, stopping purposefully by each corpse. Each time the ferryman's hammer came down, Romulus heard the sickening crunch of breaking bone.
He looked away.
'Claiming them for Hades.' Brennus curled his lip. 'Making sure none are playing dead.' He leaned in close. 'Lucky not to be lying there myself. That retiarius would have done for me. I'm in your debt, Romulus. Again.'
'It was nothing.' Feeling awkward, he changed the subject. 'Memor really has it in for you, eh?'
'The bastard has been waiting for me to step out of line. This just gave him an excuse to finish it. With Figulus and friends out for blood as well. ' Brennus wiped his brow. 'Life will be quite interesting from now on.'
'I meant what I said earlier.'
'Freedom?' Brennus' face brightened, then sagged as he thought of Astoria. 'Impossible.'
Romulus sighed. The futility of gladiator life had been brought home as never before by the mass combat. He needed support to have any chance of escape and the Gaul was crucial to this. But Memor's punishment seemed to have knocked the fight out of him. He would have to be patient and work on Brennus gradually. Men would follow more easily if the ludus' champion fighter was involved.
Romulus would not rest until he was free.
In the rest days that followed, Memor swaggered round the school, a broad grin on his scarred face. He had received a large sum from Pompey and the victory would have gained the ludus considerable respect in the Roman public's eyes.
For three days all the gladiators except Brennus were rewarded with extra rations of food and wine. Prostitutes were allowed to visit their cells. Training sessions for those who had fought were cut to just one hour daily. The baths were open to all, a privilege normally reserved for elite fighters. These gestures were universally acclaimed by the tired men, who had risked their lives yet again for the honour of the ludus.
'Out of my sight, you little bastard!' Memor scowled one afternoon as he caught sight of Romulus. The lanista suspected he had played a part in the deaths of Gallus and the others but had no proof. 'Plotting to kill more of my best fighters?'
Romulus did not dare answer. He ducked back into the small cell he and Brennus were sharing with two veteran Thracians. The homosexual pair had remained neutral since the fight over Astoria which had started the bloody vendetta. Otho and Antonius were already marginalised by the intolerant familia and two more outcasts did not trouble them.
When the quiet offer had come their way, the friends had seized the chance. Thanks to Memor's veiled threats, there had been no other options of accommodation. Life in the ludus had suddenly become difficult, and a safe place to sleep made things a little easier. Romulus for one found the Thracians' company quite entertaining. Otho was tall and thin with an ascetic manner. Antonius was plump and effeminate, but deadly with a sword.
'Memor still pissed off?' Brennus had heard the brief altercation. He was lying on a straw mattress, his home for most of the time since the fight. 'Prick.'
Nothing Romulus said seemed to improve his friend's mood. Not even the idea of rebellion, which he could only bring up when they were alone.
'He's never taken Astoria from me before.'
'Sextus is looking after her.'
'Just as well. Old bastard would have tried to screw her otherwise,' said Brennus sourly. 'I don't know what to do. It's bad enough in here!' He rolled his eyes theatrically as Antonius was wont to do when excited.
'They're good men,' Romulus replied, laughing at the caricature. He peered round the door. To his relief, the Thracians were training in the yard. 'Nobody else would take us in. Sextus couldn't.'
'True enough. And the Thracians are risking their necks for us.' None of the other gladiators would have anything to do with them. 'But I'm going crazy being stuck inside.'
'Give it a week or two,' said Romulus bluffly. 'Things will settle down.'
'I don't know. Memor is a vindictive bastard.' The Gaul sighed. 'Wouldn't be surprised if things get worse.'
'We could organise a little something for him.' Romulus mimed a stabbing motion.
'Who would join us?'
'The Spaniard might. Remember what he said after the fight.'
'That makes three,' said Brennus sadly. 'Against all of Rome.'
'The other scissores would probably come with him.'
'Take it easy,' frowned the Gaul. 'What you're talking about takes real planning.'
'Let's talk to Sextus then!'
'We 'll end up dead if we do this.'
'Sure,' answered Romulus with a shrug. He threw caution to the wind. 'What's new about that? Might as well
die free.'
Curious, Brennus looked up.
'If it fails, we can leave Italy. Like Spartacus was going to do. Go a long way away. Somewhere Rome has no influence.'
The Gaul's tanned face brightened, the words resonating within him. 'Now you're talking!' A spark lit in his eyes. 'Six years I have waited for the gods to give me a sign.' He got to his feet, clouting Romulus goodnaturedly. 'And they've sent it through you!'
The young man was delighted by his friend's response.
'It's been too long since I smelt the wind, hunted in the forest.' Brennus grew even more animated. 'Let's find the scissores.'
'Tomorrow,' cautioned Romulus. 'Memor is going to the slave market for new fighters then.' The school's losses would be easily replaced and the knowledge angered him even more.
'Good.'
Romulus nodded grimly. Perhaps now they could start to recruit men who felt the same way.
'This has given me a real thirst. Why don't we get out of the ludus tonight?' Brennus nudged Romulus. 'I'll show you my favourite haunts.'
'We 've been confined to quarters. It's not worth the risk.'
'Come on. We deserve it!'
'Why not have some wine here?'
'I'm sick of it.' The Gaul banged on the wall, knocking loose damp plaster.
Romulus could see that Brennus meant it. 'Doesn't Severus owe you a favour?' he asked. The grey-haired guard had been a formidable gladiator in his day, but was now more interested in gambling.
'That old drunk?' Brennus stopped pacing up and down. 'Suppose he does. I've helped him pay off the moneylenders often enough.'
'He's on duty at the gate most nights.'
'Asked me for three thousand sestertii yesterday. Took a bashing on chariot racing at the Circus Flaminius.' The Gaul smiled. 'Severus wouldn't dare tell Memor if we went out.'
'What if he checks the cell?' Romulus was still wary.
'No chance of that,' Brennus replied confidently. 'Memor doesn't leave his rooms after sunset.' The Gaul had cheered up immensely at the prospect of going out. 'We 'll be back before dawn. Nobody will know a thing.'
'We can't get into any trouble.'
'All right. I won't crack any heads.'
'Promise me.'
'You have my word,' Brennus growled.
Drinks in one of the taverns the Gaul was always talking about appealed to Romulus too. If the serving girls were as his friend described, he could do with a grope of their flesh. Romulus' hormones had been raging for some time. The scantily clad prostitutes visiting the ludus recently had driven the teenager wild with lust. The temptation to spend his winnings had been strong, but sheer embarrassment at the lack of privacy had prevented him.
If Romulus was going to lose his virginity, it would be without others watching.
Chapter XVII: The Brawl
Late that night, they left the Thracians snoring in the cell. Creeping into the unlit training yard after Brennus, Romulus closed the door quietly. The ludus was silent. Gladiators rose early and went to bed by sunset.
The stars were partially obscured by clouds, affording little light as they padded across to the heavy iron gate that separated the school from the streets of Rome.
'Who's there?' The voice sounded scared. 'It's after hours!'
'Peace, Severus! It's me.'
'Brennus?' An overweight, middle-aged guard emerged from the shadows, hand ready on his sword hilt. 'What do you want at this hour?'
'Me and Romulus thought we 'd go for a drink.'
'Now?'
'Never too late for wine, Severus.'
'Memor would cut my throat if he knew I was letting you out.'
'You owe me a few favours.'
The balding gladiator hesitated.
'Come now!' Brennus chuckled knowingly. 'What about the three thousand sestertii you asked for?'
Severus' face took on a hunted look. 'How long?'
'A few hours. We 'll be back before you know it.'
Severus shuffled his feet.
Brennus went for the kill. 'Those moneylenders are ruthless,' he said. 'You don't want to piss them off.'
The guard quickly took a large bunch of iron keys from his belt and led them to the gate. Picking one, he placed it in the lock, turning with a practised wrist. The door opened without a sound and Romulus knew it must have been oiled.
'You'll have the money by tomorrow morning,' Brennus whispered as they slipped through.
'Just make sure you're back before dawn,' replied Severus. 'Or my life won't be worth living!'
Romulus shivered as the gate clicked shut with an air of finality. Hoping Memor was sound asleep, he warily followed his surefooted friend. Both were armed with swords and wearing dark-coloured lacernae.
A crescent moon added only the faintest illumination to the few stars visible. The light was reduced further by the three- and four-storey buildings around them. But in the Stygian gloom, Brennus seemed to have a sixth sense of where they were.
'It's so quiet!'
'Decent folk are all behind locked doors.'
An occasional burst of laughter from behind the blank wall of a house or tavern broke the silence as they trod the dirt of smaller streets. Shop fronts were boarded up, tenement doors barred, temples empty and dark. Mangy dogs lurked here and there, prowling for scraps. A few people scuttled by, eyes averted. Even the collegia thugs at each crossroads dared not trouble the Gaul and his companion: two large, obviously armed men.
'If anyone comes close, stare the bastard in the eyes,' said Brennus. 'Nobody out this late is up to any good.'
'Including us?'
The Gaul chuckled. 'Just be ready to fight at a moment's notice.'
Romulus checked his sword was loose in its scabbard. 'Why are there no watchmen?'
'The Senate has been talking about it for years, but they can never come to an agreement.'
A few moments later, Brennus ducked into a narrow alleyway. He turned, beckoning. 'Watch your step.'
Romulus sniffed distastefully. There was an unmistakable odour of human urine and faeces. Gingerly he picked his way after Brennus, trying not to stand in whatever was making the foul smell.
They soon reached a wooden door strengthened with thick iron strips. Music and the sound of men's voices were coming from within.
'Macro! Open up!' Brennus pounded on the timbers with a balled fist. 'Dying of thirst here!'
The din inside died down for a few moments. Brennus lifted his hand, about to demand entrance again when suddenly the door opened. The biggest man Romulus had ever seen stuck a bald head outside.
'How many fucking times have I told you, Brennus? Three quiet knocks.'
'I'm parched, Macro.'
'Don't care if this is the last tavern in Rome.' The doorman beckoned them inside. 'Keep it down the next time.'
'I'll remember.'
Macro sat back on a stool, still grumbling.
'Thank the gods that hulk wasn't sold to a ludus,' muttered Brennus. 'Can you imagine fighting him?'
Romulus shook his head. The idea of facing Macro in the arena was terrifying.
He soaked up the atmosphere as they picked their way between small wooden tables. It was the first tavern he had ever visited. Regularly placed rush torches guttered in wall brackets, shedding a dim light. The rough slab floor was covered with broken pottery, half-gnawed bones and spilt wine. A low hum of conversation filled the air.
Groups of off-duty legionaries packed the smoky room, dressed in calflength brown tunics, belted at the waist. Heavily studded army sandals stuck out everywhere from under tables and benches. Other customers were a mixture of ordinary citizens, traders and lowlife. Some stared curiously at the new arrivals, but most continued drinking and roaring with laughter. A few sang out of tune or played tesserae. In one corner was a low stage, where a number of men sat playing musical instruments with varying degrees of skill. Light wrist chains marked them as slaves.
Romulus grinned with excitement. This was far b
etter than being stuck in the ludus.
'Let's drink here. Best to be standing if there 's trouble.' Brennus slapped his hand on the wooden counter that ran the length of the back wall. 'Julia! Your finest red wine!'
'I've not seen my favourite gladiator for an age,' said the pretty, darkhaired girl behind the bar. 'Beginning to think you had been injured.'
Brennus laughed. 'The gods are still favouring me.'
She batted her eyelashes. 'Who's this handsome fellow?'
Romulus quickly looked at the floor, aware he had been eyeing Julia's breasts.
'This is Romulus.'
Julia's smile broadened. 'The one you told me about?'
Nodding, Brennus gripped his shoulder. 'Good friend of mine. He'll be a great fighter one day too.' He clouted Romulus on the back, almost flooring him.
'Pleased to meet you. Any friend of Brennus is a friend of mine.'
Romulus blushed bright red, tongue-tied. Apart from Astoria, virtually the only women he had encountered since arriving in the ludus were prostitutes.
'Going to keep us standing here?' Brennus had sensed his discomfort. 'Our mouths are bone dry.'
'Of course.' Swiftly Julia placed two wooden beakers in front of them. With a flourish, she produced a small amphora. 'Vintage Falernian! Kept just for you.'
'By Belenus!' Brennus beamed with pleasure. 'You are a marvel, girl.' He slapped down an aureus. 'Tell me when that's done. And take at least ten sestertii for yourself.'
'Bless you.' The gold coin vanished before Romulus could even blink. 'Call when you need another one.' The barmaid ducked through a low doorway to the cellar and was gone.
'She 's beautiful.' Romulus' groin throbbed and he racked his brains for something clever to say the next time Julia appeared.
'Don't even think about it.' Brennus cracked open the wax seal and poured them both a generous measure. 'She belongs to the landlord. Macro gets paid extra to make sure nobody touches her.'
'Who's the owner?'
'Publius, son of Marcus Licinius Crassus. Who happens to be the richest man in Rome. Not someone to piss off.'
Romulus' ears pricked up. 'Crassus?' The sudden memory from his former existence was shocking. Life in the ludus left no time for reflection on the past. 'I've been in his house.'
