Chapter Fourteen: Rising Fame
Many leagues away, Murtagh awoke suddenly after hearing someone say his name. His first thought was that it was Apollo but Murtagh saw that Apollo was still fast asleep on the bench opposite him. Lying back down on the cold, hard bench Murtagh wondered if he had imagined it, yet it had sounded so clear. It might have been Thorn but Murtagh knew his dragon's voice and the one that spoke his name wasn't as deep as Thorn's. In fact, Murtagh wasn't sure he had ever heard the voice before. Sighing Murtagh closed his eyes and tried to sleep.
The next morning as Murtagh waited to enter the arena, the voice was all but forgotten as Murtagh had more important things to focus on. Several weeks had passed since that first fight and in the many fights following, Murtagh had made a name for himself as a strong Gladiator; not something Murtagh was particularly proud of. It never failed to anger him that he was taking life for another man's profit, but it was either that or die and he was no good to Thorn dead. So Murtagh fought and killed when he was ordered to.
Murtagh stood and began walking through the row of Gladiators towards the gates of the arena. As he passed them the Gladiators nodded in respect and, along with the crowd they softly chanted his nickname, no one but Apollo knew his real name.
"Soldier! Soldier! Soldier!" chanted the crowd and Gladiators, as Murtagh approached the gates. Before he went out to face his opponent Apollo stood before him and gently pressed his forehead against Murtagh's and muttered the same thing he always said before either of them fought,
"Strength and Honour", Murtagh repeated the phrase and nodded to Apollo, who in the past few weeks, Murtagh had come to view as a mixture of father and brother. As Apollo stepped to the side, Murtagh took a deep breath and emptied himself of all emotion as he always did before a fight.
The gates swung open and Murtagh stepped calmly into the arena and as he stepped forward his four opponents stepped back. Murtagh placed the flat of his blade across his chest and gave a gentle bow. Tornac had always taught him to fight with honour and Murtagh respected his opponents. Before his opponents could react, Murtagh charged at his opponents and reached the first in seconds. His first sword stroke sliced straight through the gladiator's neck; he was dead before he could react. The second gladiator was a little more prepared and managed to block Murtagh's first sword thrust but was instantly on the defensive and within two minutes Murtagh had dispatched his second opponent by plunging his blade through the man's heart. Approaching his third opponent Murtagh let the gladiator come to him, luring him into a false sense of ease. As the gladiator charged Murtagh side stepped him and sliced across the gladiator's stomach. Leaving the third gladiator dying on the sandy floor of the arena, Murtagh approached his last opponent, as he did so he stopped to pick up the third gladiator's sword. The last gladiator was armed with only a spear and Murtagh soon sliced it in half and plunged both swords into the man's gut. He started to walk away but then came back and removed the swords and swinging them in a scissor like motion he decapitated the gladiator.
Suddenly, Murtagh, finally giving in to his anger, threw one of the bloody swords into the audience and yelled at the silently stunned crowd,
"ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED? ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED? IS THIS NOT WHY YOU ARE HERE!?" Throwing the second sword onto the ground, Murtagh spat on it with disgust and began to walk away, as he did so he was stopped by the sound of the crowd madly cheering,
"SOLDIER! SOLDIER! SOLDIER!" it seemed Murtagh could do no wrong in the eyes of the crowd and he was stunned as they continued to cheer him. The crowd had found a gladiatorial hero, whether Murtagh liked it or not.