AN: I hope you all continue to enjoy my story! Leave a review if you have the time! I don't own anything except my characters.
Avalina didn't know if she could take another step. The blisters on her feet were so numerous they had begun to merge together, making her feet swell. They had been on the road to Rome for weeks and since she and her brothers in arms were slaves, they had been chained and forced to walk the entire journey. Not one of them complained. Connor and Rowan held their heads high as did she. They were the leaders of what was left of their meager band and they had been by her side every moment since she had taken the reins of her tribe after her parents deaths. It should have been Gannicus.
The thought of him brought a sharp pain to her heart. There wasn't a moment she didn't miss him and she railed inwardly at the evil that was Rome which had taken him from her. She had never found his body and so she assumed he had been captured and killed just as she herself would be killed soon in the arena. After the weeks she had spent at the hands of the Legate she was ready for the arena. She was ready to meet her parents and Gannicus in the afterlife, leaving the pain of Rome behind. Instead of wintering at the fort, the Legate and his legion had been relieved by another and so had begun the journey with their recently captured slaves to the markets in Capua. Her feet began to falter, but Connor and Rowan were on each side before she could stumble to her knees. Bracing her, they continued on without a word and she soundlessly thanked them.
The next week saw the slaves in Capua. Avalina thanked the gods that the journey was finally over, even as she was stripped and washed for the slave market. As long as she never had to see the Legate again, she would go to her grave peacefully. The thought of the man made her shiver and the woman who was scrubbing her, struck her telling her to remain still. As she was lead to the platform along with the others of her group, she heard the auctioneer begin their bidding. A few offers were made before they were sold as a whole group to a man whose hair was snow white.
She thought she heard the name Solonius before they were shoved off the platform. As they passed by the men completing the purchase, Avalina heard the men discussing what was to be done with them. The man who had purchased them replied, "Take them to the arena. They'll stay there until tomorrow where they'll make excellent sport for my gladiators." Avalina looked around her group and acknowledged that most wouldn't survive, most likely none. They were in bad shape from the wounds they had received weeks ago, the lack of care, and then the journey. Seven of them were all that had survived and as they entered the stinking cell below the arena, she knew that tomorrow they would all meet their fate.
Connor stood before her and Rowan was at her back, the remaining four were positioned behind her she was sure, but the blinding sun in the arena made it impossible to tell after the pitch black of the cell. The rumble of the crowd had woken her from a fitful sleep. Her eyes felt as if the sand from the floor had been poured in them and the now roar of the crowd threatened to split her head in two. However, as she focused on the opposite end of the arena, all the pain faded to the background and she began to strategize. Reading her opponent was her greatest strength and she put the well honed skill to good use now. The seven of them were matched against four experienced gladiators who wore armor and were armed with good weapons. In comparison, she herself had a short sword while Connor had a shield and Rowan a spear. She risked a glance back at the others as her vision cleared and saw one more sword, two spears and another shield.
Tapping those nearest to her, she began issuing orders as she had on the battlefield. Without question, the men moved in to formation just as the gladiators charged at their group. She didn't know the strength of the shields and so she had instructed Connor and the other man to be the point that drew the gladiators in, then give way before they were struck so that she and the other swordsman could catch them off balance. The plan worked as best it could with Avalina able to slice her sword across the throat of a stumbling gladiator before she turned her attention to the other swordsman. He had managed to graze the warriors ribs, but not before he had been stabbed through the chest from behind with a trident. Whirling behind her she saw Connor locked in a deadly struggle with a man who wielded two swords. Sprinting to cover the distance, she dogged a spear thrown in her direction and quickly drug her blade deep across the gladiators mid section just as Connor dropped his shield. The slice was deep and the man's blood and guts spilled to the arena floor. The blood thirsty Romans screamed their delight as Connor and Avalina turned as one to face the remaining threats.
Only Rowan remained alive and he fought off the last gladiator, the one with the trident. She knew that the spear was not the right weapon against the trident and just as she was about to throw her own sword, Connor stepped forward, hurling a sword from the dirt and striking the gladiator deep in the side. Rowan took advantage of the man's shock and thrust the spear through his heart. The roar of the crowd was so loud, Avalina could feel the vibration in her chest. She, Connor, and Rowan huddled together, wary of any new threat as a man from what appeared to be a section reserved for the rich stood and held out his hand.
Whatever he had been about to do was lost on Avalina as her eyes locked with no other than Legate Cossus. His self-satisfied smirk set her temper on fire despite the bone weary exhaustion she felt. She vividly recalled his words to her the last time he had her in his tent just before they reached Capua. "You'll die soon my dear," he had grunted in her ear as he thrust himself deep into her body. She was pressed against a table, face down as he rutted in to her, "I'll make sure you enter the arena and never come out. You've been useful these past few weeks, but my wife is a jealous woman and you are too much of a temptation for me." Avalina bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from vomiting. She had done so once and he had nearly knocked her senseless. His sweat covered chest pressed into her back again as he whispered, "I could fuck you raw everyday and never tire of you." His hand found the bundle of nerves nestled in her curls and began to rub her, forcing her to complete around him. It didn't matter how she fought the feeling and each time he forced her she felt a fresh wash of humiliation at the degrading act.
Recalling the weeks of abuse, Avalina stopped hearing the crowd or the man speaking. She bent down to the spear at her feet and tested its weight. Connor and Rowan had only to glance at her to realize her plan and like the good friends they were, didn't move to stop her. It was her vengeance to take. The spear sailed through the air with a speed and accuracy that was unbelievable. The spear imbedded into the seat back of the chair Cossus was occupying and vibrated with the force of impact. Avalina cursed the gods that the man had taken that moment to move slightly to the right for a drink of his wine.
The crowd went silent. An attempt on a Legate's life in public meant a swift and instant death. Connor and Rowan pressed in close to her, waiting with baited breath. The icy calm of Cossus' face made a trickle of fear run down her spine. He stood and addressed the crowd, "A woman of such fierceness would make a wonderful addition as a gladiatrix to any ludus. Since good Solonius' gladiators failed to end her life, I think that Batiatus should do the honors of training the barbarian." The crowd roared their approval as Cossus returned to his seat, but Avalina could not look away from him. His handsome face betrayed the cruel streak within and she wondered just what her future now held.
/
Gannicus strode out into the afternoon sun, wine jar in one hand, and the other flung up over his eyes to shield from the brightness. The yard was full of men deep into practice, but he didn't join them. He had a fight tomorrow and so he would spend today sobering up in the shade, then would work his stiff muscles in the evening once the sun was not overhead. He knew doctore watched him with disdain and Oenomaus with disapproval, but fuck them. They did not know the demons that haunted him while he was sober. The ones always on the edges of his cloudy vision. He should have died years ago in the arena, but he had always been too good of a warrior. It was his calling in life, the one thing that never failed him.
The sun sank slowly in the sky, and Gannicus slowly felt the effects of the wine fade. Taking up his twin practice swords, he began to limber up with small exercises. The blades hummed in his hands, extensions of his person and he could feel the power he wielded. He was continuing his warm up against a post when the gates to the ludus were opened and six new potential gladiators were brought inside. He didn't give them a second glance knowing that maybe one of the six would make it through training and that one would die in the arena soon after. He had seen many men enter those gates and none leave alive.
Gannicus did stop his warmup when Batiatus took to the balcony overlooking the training yard, but he stepped back in to the shade of the building so that he could view the new recruits and Dominus. He knew the speech that would be given and the answers that were expected. As he glanced over the recruits, he noticed that one of them wore the attire of a woman and on closer inspection he noticed she was indeed, female. Gannicus quickly looked up at Batiatus just as the other men in the yard began to call obscene things to her. A crack from Doctore's whip silenced them so that Batiatus could speak, "You have already noticed that a woman is amongst you. I tell you now, treat her as you would any man who might become your brother. She is not to be raped or abused in any way that is not part of becoming a gladiator. Doctore, I leave it to you to see she is not fucked and impregnated before she has been of some use." Batiatus then nodded to Doctore, who acknowledged the command then stepped forward to ask the recruits, "What is beneath your feet?"
Gannicus watched as the familiar scene played out just the same as it had countless times, but his gaze kept returning to the woman. The men flanking her stood too close to be strangers and they appeared to be guarding her. Gannicus snorted, probably already fucking her and trying to mark their territory. Batiatus dismissed the slaves and retreated to a couch on the balcony where he continued to watch the men below. The slaves were freed of their shackles then told they would be assigned to a cell after the evening meal. Gladiators circled the new recruits to intimidate them, but this time they focused on the girl. Gannicus felt pity for her, but did not move to intervene. If she couldn't make it through the first few hours she would never make it at all. He was just about to return to his warmup when her green eyes locked on to his brown.
Disbelief and denial washed over him along with abject horror. She could not be here in this hell with him. She could not. Shaking his head, his feet nonetheless began crossing the sand to her. She pushed past her body guards and threw off the hands of the gladiators who reached for her. Despite his terror, she was more beautiful now than she had ever been. Her hair and eyes were as he remembered, but her body was hard with muscle where she had once been soft and supple. They didn't stop to stare at each other from a distance in wonder. They collided in a desperation neither had the words to voice. She clung to him, her face buried in his neck, her hands sinking into his hair. He held her head with one hand as he crushed her to him with the other and listened to her sweet voice in his ear. "You cannot be here. This isn't real," she kept repeating in to his neck, her lips feathering over his pulse making it skip in its rhythm. Gannicus wasn't aware of all the eyes on them, including those of Batiatus. He only knew the pure joy of holding her again and the stark terror of holding her here in a ludus.