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One more chapter till I close the Roman theme and move to the MAIN plot ;)
Chapter 4
Cassius tilts his head to the side, eyes narrowing to tiny blue dots. How dare this filthy slave refuse his desire?
"Have you forgotten your place? How dare you tell me 'no', you abomination? YOU HAVE NO RIGHTS!" Cassius hisses unpleasantly, like an angry, raring snake ready to attack.
Before Quintus opens his mouth for an answer, Cassius' hand is grabbing his hair. "First, you will suck my cock, nice and slow and then you will present your fine ass to me, so I can fuck you like the dirty whore you are."
Quintus is thinking he may have no other choice other than to kill this little piece of shit in front of him and then be ready for his own death, when a guard walks into the room.
"Master Cassius, your father wishes to speak to you. He is waiting for you in the olive garden."
Cassius rolls his eyes, clearly exasperated. "Can't it wait, Titus? I am busy here."
"I am sorry Master Cassius, but he said it's very important." The guard shifts uncomfortably.
"Alright, alright. I'm coming." Cassius lets go of his grip on Quintus' hair and rearranges his clothes, hissing almost inaudibly when the tunic rubs against his hard member. "You can thank gods for saving your ass tonight," Cassius says with a glare at Quintus, "but I promise the day will come when I will impale you on my cock. Get out."
Quintus grabs his loincloth and hurries up to leave the room, rushing out and wrapping the fabric around his hips on his way out. He doesn't turn around to see if Cassius is behind him, simply follows the guards who brought him into the villa. The only thing he cares for now is getting into his cell and having a drink of water, as his throat feels scratchy and dry.
When he gets inside the barracks and the guards lock the door behind him, Quintus swears loudly, punching the nearest wall.
"Quintus, are you alright?" Judoc asks from his cell, walking towards the door of his cell.
"I want to kill that son of a bitch!" Quintus snarls, spitting aside. His whole body is shaking with fuming rage.
"Who are you talking about? What happened?" Judoc asks quietly.
"Cassius. That little piece of shit. He thinks I am a whore and he can use me as he wants!"
"I see. Did you…" Judoc doesn't finish his question, feeling uncomfortable.
"Of course not!" Quintus shouts indignantly. "I would never do that! Aulus came back from the wedding and he wanted to talk to his arrogant dick of a son."
"Well, you should pray for Aulus' well being, then. He saved you today." A new voice cuts in – Bricius. "I don't envy you, brother. Cassius is a spoiled bastard, whom I'd gladly strangle with my own hands," he adds after a while.
"What are you going to do?" Judoc asks worriedly.
"If he summons me again for the same purpose, help me gods I will castrate and make him eat his own cock." Quintus grits his teeth.
After a short silence Bricius bursts into laughter and surprisingly all the rest of the gladiators who had to be sleeping, join him.
"You fuckers, you have been listening haven't you?" Quintus can't help but smile.
"Of course, it's hard not to notice you when you are stomping and roaring like a bear!" someone shouts from the depth of the barracks.
"Oh, kiss my ass!" Quintus retorts jokingly.
"Sorry sweetheart, I prefer women. Ask Cassius, he would gladly do it!"
Roaring laughter shakes the walls of the barracks and Quintus gets inside his cell, shaking his head and laughing. He couldn't be happier to have such great friends.
"Father, you wanted to see me?" Cassius walks to Aulus, who's sitting on a bench under an old olive tree, listening to the crickets and enjoying the fresh air.
"Yes, my son. Have a seat beside me." Aulus taps the bench, waiting for his son to sit down.
"What is it that you want to talk about?"
Aulus takes a deep breath, holds it in for a few seconds and exhales slowly. "I want to teach you how to manage ludus. You are not interested in this business, but you need to understand that this is the main source of our income."
"But Father…" Cassius begins but is cut off.
"You need to learn how to respect these people, Cassius. They bring us money. If not for them we wouldn't be as wealthy as we are now. I may die one day, leaving everything behind. What will you do then? Most of the gladiators we have are contracted. Some of them are to be released after a few months, some of them in weeks. I want to teach you everything I know, my son." Aulus puts his hand on the young man's shoulder. "You need to understand that I am doing this for you."
Cassius purses his lips, sinking into thoughts. As much as he hates to admit it, his father is right. It's their main business and the source of their wealth.
"Alright, Father. I will take management lessons from you but not tonight, please."
Aulus laughs pleasantly. "Of course. Whenever you are ready, my son. Just don't postpone it too much."
It's unbelievable but the demand for Quintus in the arena is very high, and after forty-five days he has twelve victories. The money he earns and saves is more than enough for his family and Demetrius' freedom.
At their next meeting Quintus gives the Greek prostitute five hundred Denarii (the price the tavern owner paid for him) and tells him that he can buy his freedom from the tavern's owner. The poor boy passes out from nervousness and after a frightened Quintus pours a bucket of cold water over his body, Demetrius comes to his senses and cries for what seems like eternity. He keeps mumbling feverishly that he won't leave and will wait 'til Quintus is a free man, while the gladiator rocks him in his arms, calling him a "little fool". Soon after the tears are forgotten and Demetrius' screams of pleasure fill Quintus' cell.
It had been a normal day for everyone: gladiators training, slaves and servants working inside the villa, the garden or other places, Cassius doing nothing but enjoying his time with expensive hetaeras and no one had expected the news that was like a clap of thunder in a clear sky. A sweaty and rumpled messenger had run into the yard of the villa screaming something incomprehensible. The gladiators had stopped their training, even Cassius coming down into the yard to hear what was going on.
When the messenger drank a whole amphora of cold water and regained his breathing, everyone who had been present in the yard gasped in shock: Aulus had been murdered at the market by an assassin. Two stabs in the stomach and a slit to his throat. Cassius, without saying a word, had left with the messenger to see his father's body.
After Aulus' corpse is bathed and perfumed and dressed in the richest robes it's laid upon a couch strewn with flowers, with the feet pointing towards the outer door. Coins are placed under his tongue to ensure a safe journey to the underworld.
The nearest relatives and friends of the deceased carry his body. The funeral procession is attended by musicians, mourning women and men hired to sing the praises of one the most famous citizens of Rome. The hired mourners are wearing the ancestral imagines, funerary masks, of Aulus' ancestors, listening to the eulogy read during the procession.
Cassius watches silently as his father's body is laid upon an altar. He takes the torch and sets fire to it, as the mourners throw perfumes and spices onto the bonfire.
Aulus' ashes will be collected and deposited in an urn, to be kept in the mausoleum of the family. There will be offerings of food and drink to the dead together with animal sacrifices. This is the only thing left they can do to show their respect to Aulus Valerius Martialis.
Cassius locks himself up in his father's working room, sitting at the table, covered in papers, books, ink and quills. He unfolds and examines the contracts, reading when the gladiators' serving dates expire. His lean fingers tap against the table, while the young master of Martialis' villa thinks about the decision he is about to make.
The gladiators are summoned in to the yard during their resting hour. It must be something important, as Aulus had never gathered them before at this hour.
They all stand in row and look up at the balcony, where Cassius is standing, holding some papers in his hands. He looks down at the gathered gladiators with an unreadable, cold stare and begins:
"I have gathered you here to tell you the following news. As you know my father hired each of you on the basis of individual contracts. These are your contracts I am holding in my hand. And now, they are valid no more." The young man rips the papers and throws them into the air.
"Does that mean that we are free men?" one of the gladiators asks.
Cassius' lip quirks into a smirk. "No. It means you are to stay here. Forever."
The indignant and loud rumble stirs in the gladiators and they start to shout angrily. Quintus can see that the situation is getting out of control and that there will be blood as the guards are unsheathing their swords, ready for attack if the gladiators start to riot.
"Please calm, dawn!" Quintus puts himself between his friends and the guards, raising his hands placating. "We are not going to do anything! Please stand down. My friends, let's return to our cells."
Something in Quintus' voice defuses the situation. The gladiators know him well by now and they know that Quintus has a plan. They obey without any more hassle and follow him into the barracks, just throwing some snarky comments at the guards.
As soon as they are inside the barracks his thirty friends gather around him, waiting for an explanation.
"I know that you are thinking of something, Quintus. Share it with us," Dexus, a Gaul gladiator speaks up.
"I am not sure of what we can do in this situation." Hargo scratches his head, looking at his friends.
"But I know," Quintus says quietly.
"And what would that be?" Judoc asks suspiciously, sensing that something big is coming.
Quintus throws a careful glance at the entrance door and then at his friends. His answer is simple, but the words resonate among the gathered men like a boom of thunder.
"We escape."