Author note: Here comes the new chapter! I hope you'll enjoy the reading. And if you liked it, please let me know, so I'll have the knowledge that there IS someone reading this and that it's not just a fruitless effort to write this story.
oxoxoxoxoxo
Ten days later, Flaminia, along with Kerovas, visited Batiatus and as she sat down before the lanista, she seemed nervous. "So, dearest, what did you want to talk about? Melitta said you have request to make of me". "Well, yes, I do. I wanted to ask you if I could…", she trailed off, biting her lower lip. "Come on, speak your mind, you know I'm always willing to listen to your lovely voice".
"I would like to patronize one of the recruits. You know, pay for food, water and of course, since it's father equipping ludus, weapons for that specific man would be for free. I'm not a lanista, so this is the only way I can have a gladiator fighting on the sand for me…I mean, for honor of my house as well as yours". Batiatus thought about it for a moment, then nodded, "Well, after all, why not? All right, you can patronize a recruit. Come to the balcony, so you can choose him".
"Actually, I already have one in mind, but before making the choice officially, I want to test for myself how well he handles his gladius". He grinned, "If these words were coming from the mouth of any other woman, I would take it she wanted to fuck him", he commented and Flaminia laughed and gave him a playful shove.
"Oh, shut up! Take me to the ludus, but don't tell anyone who I am and pretend I'm rebellious slave who needs to be put in place with hard training. You may use my real name, they don't know House of Lutatius, do they?". "No, they don't. But are you sure this is wise? Sparring with a man…". "I've been training with Kerovas nearly every single day since we were children and he's much stronger than even best gladiators. The Syrian could never be more dangerous than he is".
He hesitated, but they both knew he had always been incapable of denying her anything, "So be it. Follow me-wait, Syrian?". "Yes, the one named Ashur. I think he would make fine gladiator and…There's something about him, I don't know how to explain it, but I have feeling that his mind may be sharper than any blade".
"He's just a slave". "That doesn't necessarily mean he is moron", she replied, "Kerovas is a slave as well, but he's got sharpest mind I've ever found in a man and he's been helping father with business since he was a lad. That's why we're doing so well. And being so good with numbers, he also helps me with…Other incomes", she added with a grin.
He arched an eyebrow, "Other incomes? Please tell me you're not talking about gambling wages". "Why not? You bet on fights as well". "Yes, but it's different, I'm a man!". "Well, I don't place bets personally, Kerovas does it for me". "That doesn't really make difference".
Her grin turned sly, "Trust me, it does: people are less inclined to swindle him than they would be if they were dealing with me. I wonder why?", she added, sharing an amused look with her protector, who smirked. "I have no idea, domina. Maybe it's because of my negotiating skills", he replied and they shared a laugh.
"Janus doesn't know about it, I hope?", Batiatus asked her, worried. "Of course not! Parents know nothing of my wages, they would never approve of them, even if they earned me lots of coin, which was used to further our business". "Good. And you only bet on official fights, don't you?". "Obviously", she curled up her nose, "The Pits are not place I would ever set foot in, unless there was very good reason to". He sighed, relieved, "That is good news. Come".
"I need to change clothes first: if they see me with this fine dress, they will never believe I'm slave", she said, "Can I use that room?". "Of course". She slipped into the side room and emerged from it after a couple of minutes, her hair tied in a simple braid, her luxurious white dress replaced with a short blue tunic and her jewels gone, "Now I'm ready".
Batiatus eyed her smooth fair skin and for a fleeting moment, his blood boiled with desire, but then he shook himself, "Isn't that too revealing?". "That's normal clothing for house slaves, she wears it too", Flaminia replied, gesturing towards Melitta. "Yes, but...". "Shall we go?", she asked, eager to finally step into the ludus for the first time, after years of being forced to content herself with looking from afar. "All right".
When they stepped onto the sand, all the gladiators stopped and stood on attention, bowing to their dominus, though many of them shot curious looks at both the woman by his side and the man behind her. "This is Flaminia", Batiatus said, gesturing towards the woman, "She was sent here because her Domina is displeased with her aggressive behavior and thinks a day of training in the ludus may rid her of it".
Flaminia kept her head high, she had to play the part of a defiant slave after all. Though to be honest, she wouldn't have been able to play 'meek and submissive' if her life depended on it, proud and stubborn as she was.
"She will train with you", Batiatus announced and the gladiators exchanged glances, some puzzled, some annoyed and some even seemed strangely pleased by the news. Ulpius, who had the role of doctore in Batiatus' ludus, intervened, "Dominus, she is a woman. Ludus is no place for women, unless they are whores to please the gladiators".
The master's lips twisted with rage, "Iam fucking dominus!", he yelled, incensed, "I give fucking orders and you fucking obey! She will train in fucking ludus all fucking day and that is it!". The other man made a face, clearly disapproving of his dominus' decision, but nodded curtly nonetheless, "Dominus".
"Go and join the recruits", Batiatus ordered the woman and she squared her shoulders. "Dominus", she said, then walked straight towards the Syrians and when she was in front of them, she smiled, "I am Flaminia. Pleasure to make your acquaintance". Ashur smiled friendly back and gave her a courteous nod, "Pleasure is mine. My name is Ashur and he is Dagan", he said, revealing a smooth, low and velvety voice that sent a pleasant warm tingle through her.
Dagan's eyes roamed hungrily over her slender, but well-curved form, "Nice bitch in heat. I'd like to feel those full lips on my cock, ram it in her ass and fuck her senseless", he commented in his native language. Disgust and anger flashed on Ashur's face for the briefest of moments, but he quickly composed himself, "Uh, Dagan says that it's great privilege to lay eyes upon such beauty", he lied, shooting a withering glare to his countryman.
"Oh. Gratitude, Dagan", the woman said, but the lecherous smirk on Dagan's lips made her suspect that something was 'lost' in translation, "What shall I do?". As if he had heard her, Ulpius shouted, "Recruits, stop sparring and lift slates. You too, new one", he added, pointing with his whip at the young woman. At that, Batiatus opened his mouth to protest, but Flaminia shot him a warning glance and shook her head slightly: no matter how difficult it could be, her pride would not allow her to accept his help.
Her original plan was to grab a wooden gladius, a parma and spar with her chosen recruit, not to go through the full training, but doctore had challenged her, so she would do it, even if she knew she'd be a wreck before the day was over. Backing out of it would mean showing weakness and as Quintus had once told her, 'showing weakness is presenting ass to enemies for fucking'.
Indus intervened, "But doctore, slates are too heavy for a woman!". "She is recruit now, like all of you, so she will do what you do. Now shut your fucking mouth!", the older man concluded, threateningly making his whip snap on the sand. She smiled at the Macedon, "Gratitude for your care, but doctore is right". He bit his lower lip, uncertain, "Are you sure?".
"I am", she approached the nearest slate and grabbed the handles, then took a deep breath and pulled. It was heavy as Hell, her back ached as though someone was beating her with a club, but she pulled harder, until she lifted it off the sand a couple of inches. At her side, Ashur was watching her with worried eyes, as he lifted his own slate, "It's too heavy, let go". "No", she hissed through gritted teeth, pulling with all of her strength.
Kerovas' fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles paled, as he watched the struggle of the girl he loved like a little sister from the border of the ludus, but he kept silent, knowing all too well how stubborn she was and how angry she would be if he tried to help her out. All he could do was to let her train and be ready with some balm to soothe her aching muscles at the end of the day, as he always did after their sparring sessions.
He glared at Ulpius, lips curling with hatred: it was clear that the whip-carrying man was pissed off at having a woman step on the sand he considered as sacred ground, so he was giving her a hard time out of spite, since he couldn't take it out on his dominus. Fucking bastard. "Dominus?", Kerovas turned to Batiatus, "May I speak?". "Yes".
"I would have words with doctore this evening", he said, struggling to keep his tone normal. "Fine. But try not to injury him too much, I need him healthy to train the gladiators", Batiatus replied, a cruel grin curving his mouth, "And worry not, he will not be doctore for long: I already have replacement in mind".
"Gratitude, dominus", the younger man sighed, "My job is to protect her, but I can't always protect her from herself". The Roman gave him a comforting pat on the arm, "You do the best you can, but she is adult now. Only Janus could avoid this and he's not here. Worry not, she will be fine, she is strong woman. Come, we'll keep eyes on her from balcony". "Dominus".
They turned to get back inside the house, while Flaminia struggled with the slate, hissing in pain and frustration. Despite her efforts, she had only lifted it a palm off the sand and most of the gladiators were now snickering, amused by her failure.
"Your hands are not made for lifting burdens, but for seizing cock!", Barca mocked her, sliding his free hand suggestively along his wooden spear. "I'd rather plunge hands in shit, you fucking cunt!", she snarled in response. "What?", he reduced his eyes to slits and walked menacingly towards her, incensed.
In an instant, both Ashur and Indus dropped their slates and placed themselves protectively before her. "Let him come to me, I'm not afraid of him", she hissed, walking around the Syrian until she came face to face with the dark-skinned gladiator, "Come on, Beast of Carthage, show me what you can do", she sneered.
Barca didn't need to be told twice: he moved to punch her, but she ducked quickly and her left fist connected squarely with his groin, causing him to crumple on the sand and whimper in pain. "You fucking whore!". "You had it coming", she shot back, her full lips curving in a satisfied and slightly sadistic smirk as she watched Auctus helping his lover up and half-dragging him away.
Ashur let out a low whistle, impressed, "Nice punch". She smiled warmly at him, "Gratitude for trying to protect me, both of you", she added, nodding at Indus, "But I'm capable of taking care of myself, as you have seen". The Syrian laughed, "Oh, I've seen it indeed! You're as quick as serpent", he exclaimed, then hesitated, "No offence meant, I...".
"Gratitude!", she beamed at him, a light blush spreading on her cheeks, "Nobody has ever called me serpent before, but I like it. Serpents are my favorite creatures, especially poisonous ones". He relaxed, "You're the first person I've ever met to feel joy at being compared to it. You're quite unusual woman", he said and his smile became a bit shy. "Oh", her blush intensified, "Well...".
Doctore's shout broke the spell, startling them, "Recruits, stop wasting fucking time, grab weapons and spar!". "Bless Mars, I've had enough of slates for lifetime!", she sighed with relief, taking up a wooden sword and a shield. "Eh, I have to do this every day", Ashur replied, "The life of gladiators is not easy. Will you...". "Flaminia, will you spar with me?", Indus cut him off, watching her like an eager puppy waiting to play fetch.
"I was about to ask same thing", the other man snapped, "You could have at least allowed me to finish speaking". "Oh, apologies", the Macedon said, though he didn't look apologetic in the slightest, "So, who do you choose?", he asked the woman. She didn't have to think on it, "I choose Ashur. Apologies, Indus", she said, giving a warm smile to the younger man to soften the blow.
The Syrian preened like a peacock, "Wise choice". "I know. Don't pull blows, I'm fast enough to avoid them", she assured him. "Your words are my command", he joked, then struck high and hard, but his sword met her shield with a soft thud, "Good parry". "Told you. Again".
They exchanged blows and he noticed that she was really quick on her feet, agile and graceful like a cat, but also vicious: despite fighting in a style similar to that of the gladiators, she used some moves he had never seen before and she also didn't refrain from playing dirty.
"Not honorable way to fight", he remarked as he avoided a handful of sand she'd just thrown at his face, though he was more amused than annoyed. She shrugged, "Honor means shit when you're fighting for life". His eyebrows shot up with surprise and his smile widened: this was a woman after his own heart, "I am in full agreement".
Flaminia smiled back, "Pleasure to hear it. Too many men place value in honor and lose life in name of stupid principle. What use is honor to dead man anyway?". "None at all", he agreed, trying to kick her ankle to disrupt her balance, but she dodged with a chuckle and sidestepped, her shield connecting with his jaw, not hard enough to make damage, but enough to leave a bruise.
He massaged the aching spot and grinned, "I thought you said not to pull blows". "Yes, but not when it comes to the face: I don't want to knock teeth out and I most certainly don't want to lose teeth either". "Gratitude. I very much appreciate your care". "I can be nice when I want to", she winked. "But not to Barca?". "No, definitely not to Barca!", she confirmed and they shared a laugh.
oxoxoxoxoxo
Parma: it was a small round shield,made of wood butbuilt on an iron frame, with a small iron boss in the centre.
Chiedo scusa ai miei compatrioti italiani per la battuta pietosa, ma devo dirlo: non è crudo, è di Parma. ^-^