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A Midnight Charade

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Reminder: Quintus Atticus is Dean and Cassius Valerius Martialis is Cas in their past lives.

Author's note: Actually I quite love Demetrius. Poor baby…. Oh and you will meet Cas in this chapter ;)


After thoroughly wrecking Demetrius to the point where he won't be able to walk for a few days, Quintus tells him that he will not be able to visit and see him for a long time, as he is becoming a gladiator. The Greek prostitute bursts into tears and cries like a child against Quintus' chest. Poor boy, he's hopelessly fallen in love with the green-eyed man, that's why he would refuse to accept money from Quintus for the last few weeks.

"Don't go, please don't go!" He sobs and clutches Quintus' tunic, hot tears staining the fabric.

"Hush now, little one," Quintus croons, rocking the prostitute in his arms, 'till the bitter sobs become subdued. "I need only twenty victories. Aulus promised that after those victories I will be a free man again." His hand caresses Demetrius' long, silky hair. He can't say that he's in love with the boy, but definitely has some tender feelings for him.

"Lies." Demetrius raises his head. "Quintus, no one will let you go. You will die there, either in the arena or Gods will think of other way to end your life."

"You little fool." Quintus chuckles, masking the flinch caused by Demetrius' words behind a laugh. "Twenty victories shouldn't be that hard. I've been in many battles and have survived worse than fighting against some puny, week-ass men."

Demetrius just sighs and snuggles closer, seeking comfort in the man's embrace, which causes a smile on Quintus' face. Maybe when he's a free man again he could come back here and take Demetrius with him, pulling the younger man out of the swamp he's in. Yes, that could work!

"Gods know I would love to hear your screams and shouting my name again, just like you were doing a few minutes ago, but I am afraid my cock will rip your little, pretty ass apart if I touch you now. Besides, Aulus is waiting for me outside. He was too kind to give an hour to me so I could spend this time with you." Quintus grabs Demetrius' chin and plants a long kiss on his mouth.

"Please, promise me that you will come back!" the Greek mutters frantically against the green-eyed man's neck, not wanting to move from Quintus' lap.

Minutes pass quickly and with a heavy heart Quintus is forced to leave Demetrius. He can hear the distraught man's pitiful sobs behind the closed door. The prostitute's warning words still ring in his ears and he hurries to walk to Aulus, who's busy chatting with the butcher.

As Quintus finds out later that night, Aulus is full of surprises: he lets the young man meet with his family to bid goodbye to his mother and sister.

Quintus' mother Octavia faints after hearing about her son's future fate. Quintus and Silvia bring her back to consciousness, trying their best to soothe the weeping woman, but it doesn't help.

It has been a horrible day and Quintus doesn't feel like talking. He hugs his mother and sister tightly, promising that he will be back in a year at most, that he will send them money earned from his victories. Octavia just keeps shaking her head, saying that no money is worth her son's life.


The ludus or the gladiator school owned by Aulus Valerius Martialis is located in the same yard as his villa. Being one of the richest and most famous citizens of Rome, Aulus has luxury to have his own school consisting of thirty gladiators, trainers and medical staff.

It's late at night when they reach Aulus' villa. Not wanting to stir fuss and unnecessary problems amongst the gladiators, Aulus sends Quintus into an empty cell. He will present him to the rest of the gladiators in the morning.

Next morning at sunrise Quintus is taken out of his cell and into the yard where thirty gladiators and their trainers are standing in a row, waiting for their master to show up.

"Aulus! Aulus! Aulus!" They roar in synch as their owner appears, accompanied by a stranger.

Aulus raises his hand with a smile, greeting his gladiators. "May the gods bless this day," he begins. "I want to introduce someone to you. This man is to join your rows and become your friend from today. Please welcome Quintus Atticus." He smacks the young man on the back.

"Is he as good in bed as he looks?" laughs a huge Ethiopian gladiator named Hargo.

"I bet he is," agrees another gladiator, a Celt named Bricius. "He would look pretty between my legs with his cocksucking lips on my dick."

A roaring laughter shakes the yard and Quintus turns deathly pale, all the blood leaving his face. He starts to shake visibly and grits his teeth, when Aulus leans towards his ear.

"Calm down. It's their usual greeting for newbies."

"I don't care. If anyone tries to touch me, you will have one gladiator less in your school, lanista." Quintus fumes in rage.

Aulus decides not to pay attention to the hot-blooded young man's threats and turns to the crowd. "Return to your daily schedules."

As the gladiators start to break up, he turns to Quintus. "You come with me. We need to decide what type of a gladiator to make out of you."

Leaving bawdy expressions like "Precious, come to me this night, my cock will be waiting for you", Quintus follows his master, first to go through medical examination and then to see trainers.


As it turns out Quintus' health is perfect. Short but thorough sparring also shows how good he is in a sword fight, what his strengths and weaknesses are. After a brief discussion and considering Quintus' skills, the trainers and Aulus come to decision to make him a Thraex – a gladiator with a square-shaped shield and a Thracian curved sword. Like most Thraex, or Thracians, he will wear trouser-like leg wrappings, loincloth, a belt, a pair of long shin-guards or greaves, an arm guard (manica) on the sword-arm, and a broad-rimmed helmet that encloses his entire head, distinguished by a stylized griffin or front of the crest.

Being a generous man, Aulus likes to treat his gladiators well. He feeds them three times a day, cares for their health and accommodation and also, provides prostitutes of either sex once a week. Especially after successful fights in the arena. The gladiators bring him a lot of money and Aulus is kind enough to reward them for it.

At noon after the gladiators break for their second meal, Quintus is sent to join them. With his plate full of meat, bread and cheese he walks among the benches trying to find a vacant and isolated place. It's his first day at the ludus and all he wants to do is sit down, eat his meal in silence and watch the other gladiators from a distance.

He barely manages to sit down and take a bite of his cheese, when a merry voice sounds right above his head.

"I'm Judoc. Mind if I join you?"

Quintus stops chewing and looks up to see the intruder. He's met with a young man, aged between twenty-three-twenty-five, with vivid, hazel eyes and mahagony hair.

"No," Quintus mutters under his breath. He's decided that maybe it's not too bad to have a companion, especially who could tell him more about this place.

"Thank you." Judoc plops down with a happy smile on his face. He's lean but with nicely defined muscles. "How come you're here?" He asks curiously, biting the roasted meat on his plate.

"Life," Quintus growls quietly.

"I understand," Judoc nods. "We can all be fools. It's in our nature and there's nothing we can do about it. I've been here for ten years. Got captured in my homeland while running after sheep."

"Ten years?" Quintus almost chokes.

"Yes. I got used to it. I had no one in my homeland. No parents, no relatives. I served a rich man as a shepherd. The Romans captured me and brought here where our master bought me at the slave market." Judoc washes down the meal with cheap wine. Aulus had permitted one cup of wine during a day.

"Have you fought in the arena?" Quintus asks and immediately regrets asking the question, feeling embarrassed. Of course the man would've fought in the arena during ten years. What a silly question!

"Of course I have. I've fought sixty-two times. Forty victories and twenty-two defeats. Aulus has one special rule: after a defeat no one gets killed, though you don't get paid. I am not the strongest amongst my brothers, I admit." The young man shrugs with a smile.

"Brothers? But you said you didn't have family?" Quintus asks.

"These people, all these gladiators are my brothers. We are brothers in arms. All of us. You will get used to it." Judoc sounds sincere and his voice is full of respect when he talks about the other gladiators.

"I was a fool," Quintus begins suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"I liked to gamble and lost a lot of money, two thousand Denarii in fact." After a surprised whistle from Judoc, he continues. "Of course I didn't have this much money. Aulus found me in a tavern and paid them for me, demanding only twenty victories of me."

"Twenty victories are not a problem." Judoc sounds cryptic.

"Then what is the problem?" Quintus asks puzzled.

"Time. You never know when these twenty fights will take place. It can be weeks, months or years, my friend."

Gods damn it! Why didn't he think about it before agreeing to the deal? What if he spends next ten years like Judoc at this place? Who knows how much time it will take him to have those twenty fights? He's about to bang his fists against the table in despair, when his new friend's hand gently shakes him by the shoulder.
"Quintus, wake up. Master is calling us."

Once again the gladiators, now including Quintus, stand in a row in front of their master and trainers. It appears that Aulus is departing and indeed, his following words confirm it.

"I am leaving to meet with my friend Claudius Avitus to discuss the schedule of your future fights in the arena. Let us hope Fortuna smiles upon us."

The roar the gladiators make is deafening.

Aulus, accompanied by the guards and servants, leaves the yard and the gate behind them closes. Quintus wants to ask something when he feels a burning gaze. He looks up at the balcony of the villa and meets the owner of the piecing stare.

It is a young man clad in a white toga, a few years younger than him, with cold, blue eyes and an arrogant look on his pretty face. The corner of his lips twitch into a loathing smirk when their eyes meet.

Quintus swallows nervously but doesn't look away. The young man lets out a huff, empties the silver goblet, which he is holding with his lean fingers, turns around and quickly goes inside the house.

"Who was that?" Quintus asks Judoc, without shifting his gaze from the balcony where the young man was standing just a few seconds ago.

"That was Cassius Valerius Martialis. The only son of our master." Judoc lowers his voice and looks around to see that they are alone.

"One bit of advice, Quintus. If you don't want any trouble, stay as far away from Cassius as possible."

Judoc quickly walks away, leaving a confused Quintus behind.


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