Yesterday's Warrior, page 17
“My father says that you are very smart and also very kind,” Tullia said. That had surprised Thad, for how would the senator know anything about him? They had only met a handful of times. Divining his thoughts, Tullia went on to explain.
“I believe it was your first fight, or maybe your second. When your opponent went down, you had helped him up. My father said that you needn’t have, but that it demonstrated a kindness and generosity of spirit that is rare these days,” she said, smoothing a dark curl behind her ear. Then Thad remembered the big man that he’d helped to his feet. He grunted and then nodded, smiling down at the young woman. He wondered why she wasn’t married. By now, he was fairly sure women of her age, he put her near seventeen, were already married. Perhaps because she was Pansa’s only child, he was reluctant to let her go?
They had spent a wonderful afternoon talking of nonsense and it was kind of odd, she was like women that he knew in his own time, but different as well. He had enjoyed that time, he had almost felt like a normal man. Thad shifted, raising his shoulders and rotating his head. The bones cracked and popped. He found himself looking for Tullia in the crowd and didn’t see her or her father this time. He suspected that they had gone back to Sicily. There was unrest in the senate, if Felix was correct. He shook his head; he didn’t know what he would do without Felix’s keen insight. His musings were interrupted by the creaking of the gate and he looked up and realized that it was time for he and Philo to fight. A grim smile slid across his face and he put his helmet on. He held his gladius sword in his grip and then went out onto the field of sand.
He saw the blood splotched and drying in the sun. He saw the emperor and cursed his name under his breath. If he could reach the man, he would willingly give his life to slice the man’s throat, but today, he was hoping the man would work in his favor. After giving his salute, Thad turned to Philo and the crowed was a mixture of taunts and cheers. The name Drago echoed over and over as he and Philo went round and round. They had been fighting for about fifteen minutes when Thad saw an opening and brought the sword down, chopping off two fingers. Philo screamed and jerked back, causing the audience to cheer. Thad grinned viciously and Philo looked at him startled.
Thad went again and after beating the shield, dodged in and sliced down Philo’s rib, laying the meat open. Philo grunted in pain and the throng cheered and jeered. Philo backed up and Thad advanced. Philo tried to go in, but Thad beat him back and another slice and he caught the edge of Philo’s foot, separating the leather and a toe.
“You pig’s balls, what are you doing,” Philo snarled.
“I’m cutting you up, like you did Marco, you fucking piece of shit,” Thad said laughing and lunged forward. Philo jerked and backstepped quickly and Thad knew that it pained him. Philo was limping slightly and trying to stay out of Thad’s range. It was working, for he was making Philo run, to display cowardly behavior. Romans hated a coward and Philo was doing just that. Thad moved in again and Philo backed up, almost turning and running. But he didn’t and Thad gave him a little incentive. He brought his sword down and aimed for Philo’s shoulder. He nicked it and Philo screamed in pain and rage.
“I’m going to cut your balls off,” Thad taunted and he saw real fear spark into Philo’s eyes. He advanced on Philo and the man backed up. By now, the crowed was booing and hissing insults at the man. Thad made a false move one way and went the other, catching Philo in the leg and he cut into the man’s thigh. Now Philo was limping heavily and trying to stay away from Thad’s blade. The crowed was mocking Philo and screaming insults at him along with hurling vegetables. Thad wondered why they brought the old vegetables and laughed to himself.
Thad finally felt it was time and charged Philo, screaming, his eyes wild. Philo turned and ran but tripped and Thad was on top of him in a second. His foot came down and pushed into the man’s chest. The crowd lost their mind and cheered and called out Drago over and over. Thad looked up to the emperor and as he’d hoped, the emperor grounded his thumb into his palm. The crowd was both shocked and pleased at what happened next.
Thad dropped to his knees and drew out a small but sharp dagger that doctore had given him. He quickly cut just under Philo’s breastbone and shoved the knife in. He sliced quickly and then jerked out Philo’s heart and held the butchered meat before the dying man’s wide eyes.
“I told you I’d rip your fucking heart out,” he snarled and stood up and threw the heart into Philo’s face. The masses jumped to their feet and cried out their approval. Thad raised his bloody hands and turned in a circle. His name was chanted in an almost hypnotic rhythm. He caught the emperor’s eye and saw the man was both stunned and pleased. A very small part of him was very ashamed of himself. It was the part that still resided in the twenty first century, but the man he’d become rejoiced in the vengeance for his brother. He was glad that the senator and his daughter were not here, he was sure he would have disappointed both of them.
He walked toward the gate and he saw Glaucis, Scauras, and doctore standing in a row. Their faces expressionless, but Thad had never seen any of them before today, standing at the gate. Usually, they were busy elsewhere with whatever they did. There was satisfaction reflected in doctore’s eyes.
“I left the knife in his chest, if you’d like to retrieve it,” Thad said as he passed them.
“Thank you, I’ll have someone get it later. Get some rest,” doctore said softly. Thad felt their eyes on his back and he handed his equipment over to a slave. He took in a deep breath and let it out, along with the grief that he’d been holding onto. He felt his eyes sting but swallowed that pain down. Not here, not now.
Θ
“What was that all about?” Scauras asked, turning to Lucius.
“Dealing with a coward,” Lucius said and smiled grimly and Glaucis laughed. This caused Scauras to snort and shake his head. Glaucis patted doctore on the shoulder and followed Drago. Scauras watched the man go and disappear into the depths of the amphitheater. He turned his attention back to Lucius.
“You mean like Gracchus?” Scauras asked, a knowing look in his eyes.
“You knew?” Lucius asked, stunned surprise on his face.
“Of course, most of us knew something was up. He was an ass licking whore and no one liked him,” Scauras said and turned away from the gate. He had work to get back to. He put a hand on Lucius’ back and patted it.
“I thought I was clever,” Lucius said and chuckled.
“You were, but I got wind of it and made sure it didn’t get back to you. Slaves have big mouths sometimes. My only regret is the little pustule didn’t die slower.”
“It took him fourteen hours, I was satisfied with that,” Lucius said.
“That’s because you’re a benevolent man,” Scauras said and grinned at his friend.
“Sure, I’m large like that. I’ve got to get back to the men, before anyone one else tried to kill someone,” Lucius said and lifted a hand and went down into the tunnels. Scauras watched him go. He’d known the man most of his life and Lucius was a good man. Scauras had few contemporaries and even fewer friends. There are not many old gladiators, by the time a man was reaching thirty, they were over the hill. A gladiator’s life span was roughly five to seven years, if they were good, really good. He and Lucius had been that good and each had won the rudis, the wooden sword of valor and each had been given their freedom.
The life of the gladiator was all each of them knew and so each had stayed on, working for Rome and the gladiatorial games in their own way. Both lived now in comfort at the Ludus Magnus and each would die here, one day. Scauras would count it a life well lived. He hummed as he made his way down. So far, the games were going well and it would seem that Drago was a gladiator to be reckoned with. He’d heard about that shit-stain, Philo, but without eyewitnesses, there wasn’t much anyone could do and even still, not much. No, best to handle things themselves. He smiled, remembering Gracchus and chuckled.
Θ
After that, the name Drago was on everyone’s lips. When he fought in the arena, the crowd was enthralled, hoping for a repeat of before. Those who had missed the event were thoroughly chagrinned. Life was a blur as Dean and Thad worked hard to ensure their popularity was maintained. They were promoted to palus secundus early on and then fast tracked palus primus but had requested not to be moved. They liked their roommates, Felix and Atticus and didn’t want that change in their lives. There had been too much upheaval with the loss of Septimus, Marco and Greg. Having the continuity of their friends made life bearable. No one was under the illusion they could live forever and that each bout might be their last.
The perks of palus primus were that their food was much better and they were given more meat, three times a week. Thad had been offered a woman slave, for his use. Since Dean already had a woman, he wasn’t offered one. Thad had been tempted, really tempted, but couldn’t bring himself to use a woman that way. He wanted a woman to come to him freely, not because she was forced to. His twenty first century morals were still alive and well within him despite his dealings with Philo. There were times in quiet moments that he cringed at the actions he took, but then he would think of Marco and he would accept it as part of who he was now.
They were heading into their third year back in time and by now, the future was a long-forgotten dream. Both men carried the heavy sorrow of their losses but their lives were in this time and that is where they committed themselves. There were many times when Dean and Thad talked about old times and what they would be doing now, if they were back in their own time. Sometimes, though, it became painful and they would avoid the subject. Both were antsy to get back to the games, because then they could earn money. They had become almost obsessed with earning coin to buy their freedom. It was all they talked about and all they dreamed about.
Dean was still a fan favorite and Thad thought that perhaps soon, his friend would be buying his freedom. It was a shock when in mid-summer, Dean had been brought to the hospital, bent over in pain. He held his gut, his face pale and sheened with sweat. Zaza brought him to the physician and had sent for Thad. When Thad got to the medicus he saw his friend on the low table and went over to him. Dean’s face was a rictus of agony.
“What the heck did you do? Eat too much?” Thad joked nervously.
“No man, I don’t know. I fucking hurt,” Dean said, gritting his teeth. Thad wondered if it might be poison. Did someone have it out for him? The old man came over and lifted Dean’s head and gave him something to sip. Dean did but then turned his head and vomited. He cried out in pain and curled his body. Zaza stood back, her hands over her mouth and tears coursing down her face. She rocked back and forth, her dark eyes wide with fear.
The old man placed his gnarled hand on Dean’s head, neck and chest. He mumbled a few words to himself and then moved his hand down farther, pushing and palpitating. When he reached Dean’s lower abdomen, Dean let out a scream. Thad felt the hairs rise on his body and he began to tremble. He knew what the problem was. Dean’s appendix. He shook his head in denial. He bit his lip and wanted to scream out a denial. Dean caught his eye and he saw the fear reflected there.
“I’m fucked, aren’t I?” Dean asked, his voice shaking. Thad couldn’t lie to him.
“I’m not a doctor, but I think it’s your appendix,” Thad said softly.
“Fuck. Make sure Zaza gets my money. See if Felix can help her get out of here. Send her to his parents. I know his mom is really nice. I think she’ll take care of Zaza,” Dean said, panting.
“Okay, I can do that, I...I don’t want you to die,” Thad said hoarsely.
“Me either dude,” Dean said and laughed weakly. They turned when the physician came over with another cup.
“This will ease the pain,” Aulus said, his old voice scratchy.
Thad helped Dean sit up and held his friend as he drank. Dean’s body was warm with fever and Zaza sat on the other side.
“What is wrong with him,” she asked, her voice trembling badly.
“His appendix, you understand, here,” Thad pointed to his own gut. Zaza looked at Thad and then back to Dean.
“He has to poop?” she asked hopefully. Thad shook his head and his eyes began to tear up.
“Issokay. I’m okay,” Dean said in a slurred voice. Whatever the physician gave him was fast and it was potent. He looked over to the old man and the old man shook his head slightly. Thad looked down at his friend and held him. He smoothed the bright blond hair. He looked into Zaza’s eyes; he would not lie to her.
“No, it is a tiny part of him that is broken. But it has poison inside it. He is dying. He won’t live,” Thad said softly. He saw as shock radiated through Zaza’s body and she shook her head in denial. She clutched her hands together on her chest and the nails dug into her skin. She kept repeating no over and over and Dean groaned and writhed. The old man gave him more of the drink and he settled down. Thad held his friend through the night, rocking him gently and coming to terms with his impending death. Zaza was laid out beside him and whimpered, her hand clutching Dean’s slack fingers.
Throughout the evening, men stopped by and touched Dean on the shoulder in farewell. Thad’s heart twisted. He’d not thought that the gladiators had such empathy, but many did. Felix twisted his hands and left quickly. Atticus thinned his lips and shook his head, then he too left. It was quiet and Aulus laid down in the corner of the room and went to sleep. Thad was glad the old man was near, in case they needed him.
Thad wasn’t sure what time it was but Dean slipped away softy and stopped breathing. Zaza sat up and looked down at her husband. Then she looked up at Thad, large tears reflecting the torchlight around them. A brazier was burning near them and Thad felt the heat of it at his back. He got up and laid Dean’s body down. The physician got up from the floor, he moved slowly, painfully. He walked over and placed his hand on Dean’s neck, then under his nose. It was quiet in the room except for Zaza’s soft weeping.
“Do you want me to take you to your cell?” Thad asked and Zaza shook her head.
“I want to say with my Dean,” she said, her eyes large and luminous. Thad nodded and bent and kissed Dean on the forehead.
“Goodbye brother, I’ll see you one day in heaven. Oorah, Marine,” he whispered softly and turned to leave. He walked back to his cell, his heart near to breaking. He knew it was selfish, but he was grieving for himself. He was alone now. His friends gone. How could he go on? How could he wake up each day and fight and fight and fight? A sob tore at his throat and he wiped viciously at his eyes. He got to the cell and opened the door. There were two torches burning, though the brazier was out. He saw Felix, sitting in his bed, rocking back and forth, his eyes large and sheened with unshed tears. Upon seeing Thad, he let out a long wavering wail and fell to the floor.
He pulled the blanket off his bed and hugged it to him, rocking back and forth. Atticus woke up and looked over and Thad shook his head. Atticus’ face folded in grief and he got up and went to the table. He poured a cup of wine and handed it to Thad. Thad sat on the edge of his bed and drank the wine. Right now, he wished he had a cup of whatever the physician had given Dean. His heart twisted again at the thought of his friend. He sighed heavily and it shuddered through his body.
Felix was crying quietly now and climbed back in his bed. He pulled the cover up and folded it over his face. Thad put the empty cup on the table and crawled into his bed. He laid there with his eyes opened and grieved. In three years, his life had become a living hell. How much more could he take? He closed his eyes and tried to sleep.
Θ
Felix moved up the stairs to his cell, his legs heavy, like lead. He would speak with Thad one more time and then he would leave, he hated goodbyes. Emotions swirled around him and his fist tightened on the rolled-up parchment in his hand and crackled. He found his friend sitting at the table, sipping wine. It had been over a week since Dean had died and Thad had been despondent, drinking wine and training. He did little else. The next morning after Dean’s death, they were told that Zaza had drank whatever it was that the physician had given Dean and she had died in Dean’s arms. Felix announced that he would pay for the couple to be buried together at his family’s cemetery. He told his friends that he loved Dean like a brother and could not bear to be parted from him or to have his body thrown into a mass grave. He said his mother would not forgive him.
“I am ready to leave, brother. I wanted to say farewell,” Felix said softly walking in. Thad looked up, his face pale and haggard. He tried to smile and failed miserably.
“I know your family will be relieved that you’ve given up the arena,” Thad said and then did manage a real smile.
“So they are. I wish to extend to you the invitation, come and live with us brother. You are nearly there and can buy your freedom soon. Our home is waiting for you and you will be welcomed and loved,” Felix said softly, placing his hand on Thad’s shoulder.
“I’ll consider it, brother. Thank you. Thank you for also taking Dean and Zaza with you,” he said and his voice broke.
“You are not alone brother, my family is now your family,” Felix said. He was afraid that Thad would throw his life away in the arena, to join his friends. Felix’s heart squeezed. He could fight no longer and only wanted to go home.
“Thank you, Felix. Truly, thank you,” Thad said and stood up. He drew Felix in and Felix felt his bones shift as Thad gave him a hug goodbye.
“Brother, read this careful then burn it,” Felix said mysteriously and stepped back and nodded. Thad looked at him oddly and Felix shook his head and his eyes cut over to the door in warning. He turned and left the cell. He’d already said his goodbyes to Atticus and his other friends. He looked around the Ludus, taking one last look. He would leave via the main entrance, where guests and civilians went. He heard the roar of the amphitheater and he shivered. He would never watch another game again; he would never step foot there and watch another man die.
