Blood for the Masses

by B. L. Morgan

  "Where's Sherry?" I asked Sushi from over my shoulder.

  "She was sent to the Coliseum," Sushi tossed back at us without hesitation. "She'll probably be fighting tomorrow."

  There was something about the way she said it that just didn't sit right with me. I can't explain it, it was only a feeling. Her statement was too matter of fact, like it just didn't matter at all to her.

  I turned away from the door to see Johnny trying to hand Sushi her clothes and having her push him away.

  "Come on," he said. "We got to get the fuck out of here before some guards come." He pushed the clothes at her again.

  "There are no guards," Sushi told Johnny. "Caligula is out of town on business, he's the most powerful man on earth. No one would even dream of stealing anything from him or hurting anyone in his household."

  I looked at Johnny and he was looking at Sushi. A strange look was coming over his face, almost a hurt desperation.

  "Sushi, come on Babe. I'm taking you home," he said.

  "Oh Johnny," she answered. Sushi breathed heavily. "I can't go with you. I live like a queen here. I have my own slaves. This is my home now. You couldn't do this for me. This is the kind of life I need."

  Shock came into Johnny's face.

  "You're my woman," Johnny said. "I came to take you home." His voice had a pleading sound to it.

  "I'm not your woman anymore," Sushi told him.

  "So this is my goddamn Dear John speech after everything I went through to get to you? I was hung up on a mother fuckin' cross," he spit out. "I fucking did that for you!"

  "This is my home now," Sushi said.

  "I was in a mother fuckin' cage, like an animal," Johnny hissed at her.

  "I'm sorry," Sushi said and reached out to wipe a tear off of his cheek.

  Johnny slapped her hand out of the air in front of him. "Get the fuck out of my face," he said and Sushi did back away from him. She climbed back onto her bed, and pulled the blankets around her.

  Then Johnny did something I never thought I'd ever see him do. He dropped down on his knees beside the bed and with tears pouring out of his eyes he cried, "I love you! Don't do this. Oh god, please don't do this. I don't know if I can live without you." Johnny buried his face in his hands and started weeping.

  From the bed came a giggle. Sushi said, "You are really pathetic. You know that."

  Johnny's head snapped up. The look he gave Sushi had pure murder in it.

  That was my cue. I grabbed Johnny from behind and hauled him toward the door saying to him, "We got to get the fuck out of here!"

  At the door he regained control of himself. Johnny marched out of the room. He was shaking so bad I knew he wanted to start screaming but somehow he held it back.

  CHAPTER 44

  On the White Horse

  Johnny was silent as we moved through the massive house and exited through the back door we came in. In the darkness behind the huge structure he turned toward me.

  "You know that wasn't really me in there acting like that," he said.

  "You don't have to worry about it Bro," I told him. "Women will make you do some fucked up things."

  "That just wasn't like me," he said.

  "I know," I told him.

  "I want to thank you for dragging me out when you did," he said. "I don't know what I would of done if you hadn't been there. Probably broke the bitch's neck."

  We moved out of that section of town a hell of a lot faster than we came in. Johnny was leading the way and he was just about a hair away from being reckless. He was acting pretty much like he didn't give a shit. Which, I guess, he really didn't.

  He was leaping stone walls and hedges like he was in a hurdles race. The only thing he didn't do was stand in the middle of the street and yell at the Roman patrols, "Hey mother fuckers, I'm over here! Come and get me if you got the balls." He was sure acting like he wanted to though.

  I figured it was by pure luck that we made it past the border of the Patrician neighborhood without having to fight our way out.

  As it was when we went to pick up our horses and woke the stable keeper up again, and when the guy complained Johnny told him flat out, "If you don't shut the fuck up, I'll cut your fuckin' head off!"

  And the guy did shut up, so I couldn't argue with the results.

  Riding back toward the Temple of Isis in the waning hours of the night Johnny asked me, "Have you ever really thought about how really fucked up this situation is?"

  "Well, I know Sushi did you wrong," I told him.

  "No, I'm talking about… like everything. The whole entire fucking deal between men and women, the whole thing is fucked up. A guy finds a woman he gives a shit about, a woman he loves and he'll bleed for her. He'll go through the tortures of hell for that woman.

  "And what the fuck does he get back. He gets fucked a little bit and on a really good day when the woman is in a really charitable mood, she might just suck his dick some. Another thing, the thing that gets guys off the most is knowing they get the woman off. The thing that makes me feel the best is hearing the woman moan. Ain't that a bitch?"

  "Most guys will work their entire fuckin' lives, giving their woman a good life, so she can sit on her ass and enjoy it and what does he get at the end? A fucking box in the ground, if he's lucky!

  "I'm tired of the whole fucking deal. This riding in on a white horse to save the day shit is over for me. I ain't never doing this shit again."

  I had to admit, I didn't want to go through this shit again either.

  * * *

  We rode the rest of the way back to the Temple of the Brothers of Isis in silence. When we got there we boarded our horses in their stables and headed to our room. It was just getting light outside.

  I figured we'd go to the room and come up with a plan to go and get Sherry St. Claire.

  When we got to the room I sat down on my cot and turned to Johnny, "All right," I asked, "You got any ideas as to how we can get down to the slave holding area at the Coliseum without getting killed so we can get Sherry?"

  "I'm not going," Johnny snapped at me. "Like I said, I'm done with this hero shit. These bitches are going to have to get along without my help. I done learned my goddamned lesson. I'm going to get some sleep, then go down and hop some of these portals till I hit the right one."

  I looked at Johnny. He'd lain back on his cot. I thought about whether or not I should just jerk him off that fucking cot and punch some fucking sense into his head.

  To tell you the truth, I didn't blame him one bit.

  "Fuck it," I told him and stood up and buckled my sword back on. "I'm heading down to the Coliseum. I'll think of something on the way. I don't need your fucking help anyway."

  CHAPTER 45

  At the Coliseum

  By the time I got my horse from the Brother's stables the sun had just come up. The day time vendors were coming out and setting up their wares. The night time vendors were packing up and leaving.

  Most of the night time vendors had been skanky looking prostitutes. That was one thing that hadn't changed from this time to the twentieth century. The street prostitutes mainly came out after dark. I didn't know why that was. Even if the laws in force in Rome made it illegal for street walkers to be screwing in broad daylight there didn't seem to be enough of a police force to enforce the laws. Maybe these Romans were too shy to make balling in daylight profitable.

  As for myself, I didn't give a shit. I'd take a blowjob at high noon on the county courthouse steps and grin at the Chief of Police as I shot a wad of spunk in a chick's eye. You gotta be bold or you get old. Come to think of it, you do get old anyway. So why not be bold?

  I rode toward the Coliseum.

  People were dragging out the stuff they were going to sell that day. Shoemakers had those Roman sandals most Romans wore hanging from ropes. They also had some crude types of leather boots. If I was planning on staying in Rome forever, I'd get me a pair of those.

  There were people selling plates and bowls of
either wood or pottery. Other guys were selling knives and swords.

  I stopped at a place, bought a joint of beef, and ate it as I rode down the street. In the early morning sunshine, these were some sweaty stinky people going about their everyday business of living from day to day. Most of these people couldn't even dream of a world like the one that would be here in about two thousand years.

  I had to keep reminding myself to never forget what my world had been like.

  * * *

  The large circular avenue was blocked off from all traffic except for foot travel. So I again paid to have my horse boarded at a stable just off the main street leading to the Coliseum.

  The money I'd taken in Micea was dwindling fast. Most of it was going to sticking my horse in horse hotels. I walked on foot to the playing field, where the game was death.

  The Roman Coliseum: the most famous sports arena the world has ever known. The contests played on this field were played for the most basic reward. The winner lives. The loser dies.

  Somewhere in there was Sherry St. Claire. I wasn't going to leave without her.

  If I have to guess as to the Coliseum's height, I'd have to put it at around forty stories high. Not as tall as some buildings in our time, but this thing was big around too. Was it a mile around, two miles? I don't know. I only know that it is one hell of a big fucking building when you're standing next to it.

  Throngs of people were milling about on the wide avenue outside the arena. Most of the vendors out there were selling food and refreshments of all kinds to enjoy while watching the fighters hack each other to pieces.

  There were a lot of entrances into the seating in the arena. This kind of surprised me until I was told all seating was free. You were just given a ticket and a seat number on the way in to keep people from fighting over the best seats. The shows were all free.

  This was the one area, at least on the street outside the Coliseum, where it looked like all the classes of Rome mingled together. You'd see the dirt poor peasant lining up right next to the Roman Senators to get their seats for that day's bloodshed. Kind of heartwarming isn't it, seeing what will bring people together, witnessing the blood and guts and pain of your fellow man. Pain and death are a great equalizer. No matter who you are, no matter how rich and famous you are, you're going to get pain and death at some point in your life.

  I walked around among the people in the street. I didn't want to just go in and get me a seat. I wasn't here to watch the show. I was here to try to stop someone from being a part of it.

  Different barkers were yelling about what they were offering from boxes and holding up samples of wine, legs of lamb or turkey legs for people to see.

  People were bustling about.

  Then I heard this guy yelling about how he was taking bets on the fights and another guy close by him was handing out printed programs of what order the fights were going to take place in and who was fighting who.

  The guy handing out the programs were giving them out for free, so I grabbed one.

  The program was very crudely printed. In fact, I think it was just stamped on the stuff they used for paper. They had the beast hunt listed first, after that some executions, then some caestus bouts, after that were some women's weapons fights.

  I wasn't really interested in what was after that because listed in the women's bouts was the name Sherra, slant-eyed barbarian who spurned the Emperor's offer of sacred love. That sounded like Sherry to me.

  Sushi obviously didn't turn down Caligula, probably jumped on his pole like a crazed tongue-fu master. That's why she's living so well and Sherry is being fed to the slaughter.

  Another name caught my eye in the caestus matches before Sherry's fight. Phonetically, it came out as, Pabow Paaz, barbarian fist fighter. I was guessing that was my friend Julio "Padre" Paez. Well, I was here to get Sherry. Besides, Pablo is a man. I wish him luck, but I got to do what I came here for.

  It was early enough so even the morning beast hunt had not begun.

  The guy who was taking bets started having an argument with a guy over the odds he was giving.

  "How can I know if what you are saying about these fighters is true?" The guy questioning the odds shouted. "I haven't seen any of these fighters."

  "Then go see them," the odds maker yelled back. "They are down there on display in the holding area. Pay the guards. They will let you take a good look. Go see if I don't give good odds."

  That was all I needed to hear.

  I headed in the direction of the entrance with the intention of getting as close to Sherry as I could.

  CHAPTER 46

  Beneath the Coliseum

  I waited through the line and got my ticket for my seat. The line wasn't very long, so it didn't take but about a half hour. It felt like I was waiting for weeks.

  Inside the stadium the seating was divided up like it had been in the arena where I fought. The different social and economic classes had their own sections. I looked so ragged that morning that I was given a ticket to the section of society that was barely above being a slave.

  I stopped a guy hurrying by and asked him where I had to go to get a look at the fighters. He pointed to an archway about fifty feet away that had a ramp that led downward and hurried on by.

  There was a constant stream of people coming and going out of that archway and the mingled together sounds of hundreds of people conversing. I walked through the arch and went down.

  The stone ramp led downward for what must have been about two floors. There wasn't any daylight down here. The lighting was provided by torches protruding from the walls at regular intervals and other small fires people had built wherever they felt like it.

  These looked like the catacombs of Rome. Tunnels beneath the city where the dead were buried, the thing is the people in these tunnels were very much alive and kicking.

  People had shops set up down there. People had homes set up down there. And down there, the streetwalkers were out in force. What I'd said before about the Romans being too shy to make daytime balling profitable, down there, they proved me wrong.

  The whores below ground were sucking and fucking guys in any open space they could find, up against walls, right in the middle of the walkway, they didn't care. They'd just get that damn money and drop those drawers right where they were.

  There were sex shows too. As if there wasn't enough of a show going on for free? There were tents up and guys shouting outside them that for a single denarius you could watch a virgin fuck a mastiff hunting dog or an experienced professional deep throat a horse. It was a case of either roll over Rover or let's give Mr. Ed something to talk about.

  I've heard these kind of shows are still going on down in Mexico in the twentieth century. I didn't care to go down there to see that. I sure didn't want to see it here either. One thing was always going to be true about people, there always had been degenerates and there always would be.

  I bypassed that and asked another guy where I could get a look at the fighters. He pointed me to a side tunnel.

  * * *

  The tunnels down here were as wide as narrow streets were on the surface. This was like a complete city beneath the city. Everything they had up top, they had down here except for the daylight.

  Following the path I'd been pointed to, the road led upward then leveled off where I figured I must be at the same level as the arena floor.

  I don't know how far I walked, a couple of hundred yards maybe before the tunnel came to an end. There were people standing at a fence made of iron bars. In front of them, in rows of cages just like the one I had been in in Micea were slaves that were waiting their turn to fight.

  To the side of the tunnel there was a steel gate that opened out onto the arena floor. A lot of people were looking through the bars at the prisoners. Some of the guys on this side of the bars were betting on what slaves they thought would make it through the day.

  I shouldered my way up to the bars of the fence and looked through, searching for Sher
ry. I could barely see her through the bars of six cages. She was standing up and looking out at the arena floor.

  The beast hunt was in full swing now. Animals were being slaughtered left and right. Sherry watched this. She didn't look frightened but she didn't look very happy to be where she was either. Physically, Sherry St. Clair appeared to have handled her captivity well.

  She was wearing the typical clothes for a slave girl. A short skirt with a loose tied at the waist toga top and lace up sandals. There were no visible bruises on Sherry so if she had taken some beatings the marks were already healed. Sherry's light cardboard colored brown skin still looked flawless. She was in a bad situation, but she was looking good.

  Sherry might have been dressed like a slave but her posture, her entire body attitude told anyone who saw her that she could never be a slave. She would never be submissive to anyone unless she chose to. This was a strong woman, strong in mind. Being told she was owned by someone wouldn't change that.

  I spotted at least four guards from where I was and this slave holding area was so large that I couldn't see where it ended. Calling out Sherry's name and yelling to her was out of the question.

  A guard who was wearing a bad attitude walked close enough to the bars so that I could talk to him.

  "Hey," I yelled, "I need to get in to see the fighters."

  He ignored me.

  "I'll pay you for a closer look," I shouted.

  "No one gets in here," he shouted to me and everyone else against the bars.

  "Come on," I said. "I was told that for a price we could get a close look. I want to make money on my wagers. Look, I'll give you a piece of what I win. I just got to see the fighters close up. I'm great at picking winners."

  The guard stopped and looked at me directly.

  "Last week Grondar was making money on the side doing exactly that," he said. "He was found out. This week he's in chains cracking rocks in the mines."

  He walked away.