Chapter 2
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Eight of us gather to await our fate. There will be at least that many
waiting for us in the arena. Heavily armed guards lead us to the gate as
cattle being lead to the slaughter. Even within the confines beneath the
arena we can hear the dull roar of the crowds. We pass through the dimly
lit corridor, which opens into the arena. Stepping into late evening
sunlight, I'm blinded for a moment. The deafening roar of the crowd strikes
me as an ocean wave. A slight breeze passes and I catch the faint scent of
burning pinecones. It's mixed with another smell I've grown to know all to
well, blood. The coppery smell is hard to ignore, as it hangs heavily in
the air. Dust swirls from my feet in small clouds as I cross to the center
of the arena. Finding a place to make my stand I close my eyes to revel for
a moment in the fresh air and warm sunlight.
Blaring trumpets signal the Emperor's arrival, rudely forcing me out of my moment of peace. As all eyes turn to Caligula and his small entourage I pay little heed to the smiling toad. My concerns lay only with Eve. Finally she stumbles into view. It's obvious she is favoring her left leg and I wonder if anyone has bothered to check her wound.
The crowd chats madly for their false god while he takes him place. As he waves the crowd to silence a guard roughly guides Eve to his side. Dressed in a sheer gown that barely allows for an dignity Eve sways unsteadily next to Caligula. She still bears the bruises from our capture and a growing number of fresh ones. Even from here I can see dark purple spread over the left side of her face. Her lip and one eye are swollen, she did not bear these wounds when I saw her last three days ago.
As Caligula drones on with his insane ramblings Eve raises her gaze to meet mine. There is fear in her eyes and I know it is not for herself. Behind the fear and tears glistening in those beautiful blue eyes is love. I never thought I'd see that kind of love directed to me. It has taken Eve sometime to show such love and it has always been directed at her mother. Her mother.
I shake away all thoughts of my friend I can't afford that distraction not now. Eve is still watching me neither of us realizes Caligula has finished his speech. Catching the look between us he promptly slaps Eve across the face. The bow staggers her but she manages to stay on her feet. The crazed man smiles at me. I swear that before I leave this world his blood will cover my sword. But, for now I must spill the blood of strangers. Ragnor takes his place at my side we will protect each other as we have since the beginning.
Spread out in a loose circle the other members of my group ready themselves for the onslaught. We haven't long to wait. Another roar from the crowd assaults me as four gates fly open around the arena. Eight men rush forth from four directions, each carries armor and weapons unique to his individual taste. A dark skinned man armed with a net and trident moves in on me as his partner charges Ragnor. Behind me I can hear the clash of steel as the others met their fates.
Long ago Xena taught me how dangerous a net could be, she also taught me how to counter it. Locked in battle we play a dangerous game of cat and mouse sizing each other up. After several exchanges of blows and feints I have a feel for the man's technique. Once more he prods at me with the trident trying to keep me in range for the net. Instead of retreating from the threat I charge him effectively deflecting the three-pronged weapon with my shield. As the trident is batted away my sword slashes through his forearm causing him to drop the net. Before he can react I reverse the strike with a slash to his throat. A crimson spray showers me as the razor sharp blade severs an artery. As he falls to the ground clutching his throat I turn to offer Ragnor aid. Fortunately he does not need it. Placing a large boot against his opponent's chest, he pushes the dead man off his sword and watches as he hits the dirt. Then the large Norseman looks to me and smiles. I can see the relief in his eyes that I'm still standing.
Satisfied my friend is not in danger I turn to see how the others are faring. Three of my comrades lay dead and a fourth is struck down as Ragnor and I sprint toward the remaining men. Five gladiators remain of the eight who charged from the gates. As we draw near Ragnor strikes down a man before he even knows the large Norseman is upon him.
Choosing my next opponent I try to reach him before he realizes the threat. I'm not fast enough. Wielding a heavy ax the man who appears to be of Gaul descent turns to face me with a menacing laugh. Slowly he spins a large ax in a lazy figure eight pattern, taunting me to come closer. Being careful not to get to close I deflect several blows with my shield as I watch for an opening. I've seen this man fight before and noticed he likes to disable his opponent then kill them with a strong overhead blow. He and the crowd take great pleasure in his attempts to cut his opponent in half. With that thought in mind I step in with a feint trying to draw him out. From his arrogant smile I doubt he considers me much of a threat, perhaps it's his arrogance that makes him careless. Deflecting my sword thrust with the axe handle he swings the blunt end of the weapon upward toward my face. Slipping past the attack I swing the shield with all my might, there is a sickening crack of bone as the shield's edge connects with the man's face. Stunned by the blow he staggers back spitting teeth and blood. Kicking the axe out his hands I drive the sword into his exposed chest. I ignore my churning stomach as his death scream echoes through the arena. Wrenching the blade free, I try not to meet his eyes as he falls backward to the ground. My attempt is futile.
A scream of pain sends a chill down my spine and I spin toward the sound. My heart stops as I watch a man pull a spiked mace from Ragnor's chest. Time slows to an eerie macabre pace as I race toward my friend. My legs are moving but I don't seem to be getting anywhere. I watch as Ragnor drops to his knees, clutching at his ravaged chest, he struggles to remain upright. The man with the mace steps to Ragnor's side, planting his feet the large man slowly raises the weapon over his head. He takes his time for the kill there is no need for him to rush.
"Noooo!!! I scream as the spiked ball starts it's downward arc. As the weapon slams into Ragnor's skull once more I'm covered with the blood of a friend. Driven by rage I slam the shield into the man's helmeted head, before he can recover I slash with the sword, blood flies from a minor chest wound. Not allowing any quarter I beat and slash, driving him back across the arena. In an act of desperation he screams and charges swinging the mace down toward my head. Stepping back I easily deflect his weapon with my sword and allow his momentum to carry him pass me. Spinning away from his attack, I complete the turn to find his back exposed. Grasping the sword with both hands I slice down and across the board span of flesh. The blade cuts through soft tissue and bone as it travels through his body and back to open air. I know his spine is severed in half and possibly one kidney. With barely a grunt he falls face first to the ground in a death spasm.
My rage has blinded me to a more immediate threat. A booted foot connects solidly with my back, knocking me forward. Stumbling unable to regain my balance I tuck and dive into a tight roll. Springing to my feet I pivot just in time to block a sword stroke, which was meant to take my head. Behind the sword is a short, stocky and very strong Roman. If I had Xena's strength I could battle toe to toe with him, but the Gods have not blessed me with such strength. So once more I must place my faith in the warrior princess's teachings, rather than the mercy of the Gods.
While I try to deflect his blows, the one's that land solidly against sword or shield, rattle my teeth. With a sudden burst of speed he knocks the shield from my grasp, in the same motion his blade lands solidly against the side of my head. The chinstrap snaps from the force of the blow, sending the helmet flying. From the crowds stunned gasp I'm sure many expect my head has followed it. Though the helmet is lost no doubt the blow would have crashed my skull without it. Blood flows across my face from a gasp over my left eye, temporary blinding me. Stunned by the blow I stumble backward trying to regain my balance. My opponent allows no quarter drawing closer he swings at my midsection. Stilling stumbling backwards I manage to avoid being cut in half, but the razor sharp blade opens a long bloody gash across my lower abdomen. I scream in pain grasping at the wound with my free hand. Trying to put distance between the man, and myself, I glance down. I have a moment of relief as I realize my intestines are not spilling over the arena floor. But, my relief is short lived as the man launches another attack. Deflecting his blows as best I can I'm driven back across the arena. Loss of blood and the heat are quickly sapping my strength. Slipping past my defenses his boot sinks deeply into my gut, sending a searing pain through my wound. Doubling over I fight to breathe. A massive hand grabs a handful of hair and jerks me forward, for a moment I'm airborne as the man launches me over his shoulder. What little air is left in my lungs is painfully forced out as I land heavily on my back. Darkness threatens to overtake me as I struggle to force air back into my burning lungs.
A shadow falls over me. Looking up through the blinding sunlight, all I can see is a silhouette of the large man. He straddles me and raises the sword for the kill. I can see him looking to Caligula for a decision I already know what his answer will be. As the man nods, the crowds' cheering grows louder. They crave blood like wild animals. It's over I've failed. I'll be dead soon and so will Eve. "I'm sorry, Xena." I whisper. The man leans forward and I can make out his smiling features. "Eli can't save you now." he sneers having mistaken my apologize for a prayer. As he leans back to gain momentum for the strike I close my eyes and squeeze my hands shut. There is something hard in my right hand, as my fingers wrap around it my mind screams to act. With a grunt the man starts his downward swing.
Sucking in a breathe of air I roll forward. With a cry of despair I drive the short blade between the man's legs. A primal scream echoes through out the coliseum, bringing the crowd to a stunned silence. His sword crashes to the ground as the man grasps at his severed manhood. Stunned by my own actions I stare in disbelief. A strangled grunt from the man awakens me to the situation at hand. Placing a foot against his thigh I pull the weapon free earning another agony filled cry from the man as he drops to his knees.
Slowly climbing to my feet I stare down at the sobbing man. He looks up at me and I can see he is pleading for me to end his pain. There is only one thing left to do. While I deplore the thought of killing an injured man, this will be more an act of mercy then murder. At least, that's the lie I'm going to tell myself.
Planting my feet I grasp the hilt with both hands. I don't bother to look at Caligula as I raise the sword, he'll have no say in this. With a grunt I strike at the base of the man's neck. The blade offers some resistance as it passes through the spine. But, the blow is clean and the head strikes the ground rolling twice stirring a small cloud of dust behind it. As the lifeless body strikes the ground the crowd jumps to it's feet as one, their cheers are deafening. Slowly pivoting around I'm stunned to find myself the only one still standing. Slowly the cheers and hoots turn to a single chant. "Amazon! Amazon!" They chant with a growing strength. For years I wondered what Xena felt as armies and crowds chanted her name. There were times when she seemed to relish it, almost thriving on it. During those times I wondered how I would feel in her place. Now as the crowd grows louder I slowly turn to study them, my stomach lunges and I swallow hard against the bile creeping up the back of my throat. How can people who claim to be so civilized treat their fellow humans as animals? If Rome is to be the leader of the civilized world I want no part of it.
My gaze finds its way to Caligula's balcony, the bastard is cheering. Tears stream down Eve's face as she watches me. The sword slips from my fingers and I barely notice as it strikes the ground near my feet. Slowly I turn and stagger toward the arena doorway, my legs grow heavier with each step yet I will them to move. I grasp in vain at the blood flowing from my wound. My vision is growing dim and I know it is only a matter of time till darkness over takes me. Stumbling through the doorway I welcome the cool, dark shadows, which greet me. Certain I can no longer be seen by the crowd I lean against a nearby wall. Slowly I slide helplessly to the dirt floor, two of the arena caretakers rush to me, I can feel hands lifting me from the ground then the world fades to darkness.
I awake to a searing pain in my side, a scream echoes off the walls and the smell of burning flesh assaults my senses. Somewhere in my pain filled mind I realize the scream is my own. Gasping for air I open my eyes to see a man standing over me with a white-hot poker. That explains the burning smell. "She's awake." says the man to someone outside of my vision. A grizzled old man wanders toward me eyeing me closely he frowns. "She's got fever setting in, doubt she'll make it through the night." I haven't the strength to laugh at his optimization.
A Centurion leans over his shoulder for a better look. Judging from his expression I must look as bad as I feel. "The Emperor wants to know the moment she dies so he can decide Livia's fate." he announces.
I bet he does, Caligula that bastard he's so eager to kill Eve. At least I know she's still alive. Though I'm not sure for how much longer. I won't be able to fight anytime soon. No, there be no more fights, the old man was right I'll be lucky if I survive the night. Slowly the images around me fade once more. Images and sounds take on strange forms as the fever clouds my mind.
Once more I feel hands lifting me but I neither know nor care where they are taking me. Time losses all meaning for me, memories and nightmares take turns haunting me. Several times I swear I can hear Xena calling softly to me, perhaps she is waiting to lead me to the Other Side. Soon I'll be with you Xena soon. How can I tell her that her daughter will be joining us, I don't know if I can bare the pain that will cause her.
Closing my eyes against gathering tears, I slip deeper into a fever filled darkness. Images come at me from the darkness and I struggle to know what is real and what is imagined. Voices fade in and out some I recognize as the caretakers of the arena other are ghosts from the past. "It won't be much longer now." growls a faceless voice as hands grab and hoist me up. "no..." I whisper, weakly struggling against them.
"Be still." orders the voice. "The Emperor wants to see you if you're still breathing." To weak to argue I drift off once more.
Blaring trumpets signal the Emperor's arrival, rudely forcing me out of my moment of peace. As all eyes turn to Caligula and his small entourage I pay little heed to the smiling toad. My concerns lay only with Eve. Finally she stumbles into view. It's obvious she is favoring her left leg and I wonder if anyone has bothered to check her wound.
The crowd chats madly for their false god while he takes him place. As he waves the crowd to silence a guard roughly guides Eve to his side. Dressed in a sheer gown that barely allows for an dignity Eve sways unsteadily next to Caligula. She still bears the bruises from our capture and a growing number of fresh ones. Even from here I can see dark purple spread over the left side of her face. Her lip and one eye are swollen, she did not bear these wounds when I saw her last three days ago.
As Caligula drones on with his insane ramblings Eve raises her gaze to meet mine. There is fear in her eyes and I know it is not for herself. Behind the fear and tears glistening in those beautiful blue eyes is love. I never thought I'd see that kind of love directed to me. It has taken Eve sometime to show such love and it has always been directed at her mother. Her mother.
I shake away all thoughts of my friend I can't afford that distraction not now. Eve is still watching me neither of us realizes Caligula has finished his speech. Catching the look between us he promptly slaps Eve across the face. The bow staggers her but she manages to stay on her feet. The crazed man smiles at me. I swear that before I leave this world his blood will cover my sword. But, for now I must spill the blood of strangers. Ragnor takes his place at my side we will protect each other as we have since the beginning.
Spread out in a loose circle the other members of my group ready themselves for the onslaught. We haven't long to wait. Another roar from the crowd assaults me as four gates fly open around the arena. Eight men rush forth from four directions, each carries armor and weapons unique to his individual taste. A dark skinned man armed with a net and trident moves in on me as his partner charges Ragnor. Behind me I can hear the clash of steel as the others met their fates.
Long ago Xena taught me how dangerous a net could be, she also taught me how to counter it. Locked in battle we play a dangerous game of cat and mouse sizing each other up. After several exchanges of blows and feints I have a feel for the man's technique. Once more he prods at me with the trident trying to keep me in range for the net. Instead of retreating from the threat I charge him effectively deflecting the three-pronged weapon with my shield. As the trident is batted away my sword slashes through his forearm causing him to drop the net. Before he can react I reverse the strike with a slash to his throat. A crimson spray showers me as the razor sharp blade severs an artery. As he falls to the ground clutching his throat I turn to offer Ragnor aid. Fortunately he does not need it. Placing a large boot against his opponent's chest, he pushes the dead man off his sword and watches as he hits the dirt. Then the large Norseman looks to me and smiles. I can see the relief in his eyes that I'm still standing.
Satisfied my friend is not in danger I turn to see how the others are faring. Three of my comrades lay dead and a fourth is struck down as Ragnor and I sprint toward the remaining men. Five gladiators remain of the eight who charged from the gates. As we draw near Ragnor strikes down a man before he even knows the large Norseman is upon him.
Choosing my next opponent I try to reach him before he realizes the threat. I'm not fast enough. Wielding a heavy ax the man who appears to be of Gaul descent turns to face me with a menacing laugh. Slowly he spins a large ax in a lazy figure eight pattern, taunting me to come closer. Being careful not to get to close I deflect several blows with my shield as I watch for an opening. I've seen this man fight before and noticed he likes to disable his opponent then kill them with a strong overhead blow. He and the crowd take great pleasure in his attempts to cut his opponent in half. With that thought in mind I step in with a feint trying to draw him out. From his arrogant smile I doubt he considers me much of a threat, perhaps it's his arrogance that makes him careless. Deflecting my sword thrust with the axe handle he swings the blunt end of the weapon upward toward my face. Slipping past the attack I swing the shield with all my might, there is a sickening crack of bone as the shield's edge connects with the man's face. Stunned by the blow he staggers back spitting teeth and blood. Kicking the axe out his hands I drive the sword into his exposed chest. I ignore my churning stomach as his death scream echoes through the arena. Wrenching the blade free, I try not to meet his eyes as he falls backward to the ground. My attempt is futile.
A scream of pain sends a chill down my spine and I spin toward the sound. My heart stops as I watch a man pull a spiked mace from Ragnor's chest. Time slows to an eerie macabre pace as I race toward my friend. My legs are moving but I don't seem to be getting anywhere. I watch as Ragnor drops to his knees, clutching at his ravaged chest, he struggles to remain upright. The man with the mace steps to Ragnor's side, planting his feet the large man slowly raises the weapon over his head. He takes his time for the kill there is no need for him to rush.
"Noooo!!! I scream as the spiked ball starts it's downward arc. As the weapon slams into Ragnor's skull once more I'm covered with the blood of a friend. Driven by rage I slam the shield into the man's helmeted head, before he can recover I slash with the sword, blood flies from a minor chest wound. Not allowing any quarter I beat and slash, driving him back across the arena. In an act of desperation he screams and charges swinging the mace down toward my head. Stepping back I easily deflect his weapon with my sword and allow his momentum to carry him pass me. Spinning away from his attack, I complete the turn to find his back exposed. Grasping the sword with both hands I slice down and across the board span of flesh. The blade cuts through soft tissue and bone as it travels through his body and back to open air. I know his spine is severed in half and possibly one kidney. With barely a grunt he falls face first to the ground in a death spasm.
My rage has blinded me to a more immediate threat. A booted foot connects solidly with my back, knocking me forward. Stumbling unable to regain my balance I tuck and dive into a tight roll. Springing to my feet I pivot just in time to block a sword stroke, which was meant to take my head. Behind the sword is a short, stocky and very strong Roman. If I had Xena's strength I could battle toe to toe with him, but the Gods have not blessed me with such strength. So once more I must place my faith in the warrior princess's teachings, rather than the mercy of the Gods.
While I try to deflect his blows, the one's that land solidly against sword or shield, rattle my teeth. With a sudden burst of speed he knocks the shield from my grasp, in the same motion his blade lands solidly against the side of my head. The chinstrap snaps from the force of the blow, sending the helmet flying. From the crowds stunned gasp I'm sure many expect my head has followed it. Though the helmet is lost no doubt the blow would have crashed my skull without it. Blood flows across my face from a gasp over my left eye, temporary blinding me. Stunned by the blow I stumble backward trying to regain my balance. My opponent allows no quarter drawing closer he swings at my midsection. Stilling stumbling backwards I manage to avoid being cut in half, but the razor sharp blade opens a long bloody gash across my lower abdomen. I scream in pain grasping at the wound with my free hand. Trying to put distance between the man, and myself, I glance down. I have a moment of relief as I realize my intestines are not spilling over the arena floor. But, my relief is short lived as the man launches another attack. Deflecting his blows as best I can I'm driven back across the arena. Loss of blood and the heat are quickly sapping my strength. Slipping past my defenses his boot sinks deeply into my gut, sending a searing pain through my wound. Doubling over I fight to breathe. A massive hand grabs a handful of hair and jerks me forward, for a moment I'm airborne as the man launches me over his shoulder. What little air is left in my lungs is painfully forced out as I land heavily on my back. Darkness threatens to overtake me as I struggle to force air back into my burning lungs.
A shadow falls over me. Looking up through the blinding sunlight, all I can see is a silhouette of the large man. He straddles me and raises the sword for the kill. I can see him looking to Caligula for a decision I already know what his answer will be. As the man nods, the crowds' cheering grows louder. They crave blood like wild animals. It's over I've failed. I'll be dead soon and so will Eve. "I'm sorry, Xena." I whisper. The man leans forward and I can make out his smiling features. "Eli can't save you now." he sneers having mistaken my apologize for a prayer. As he leans back to gain momentum for the strike I close my eyes and squeeze my hands shut. There is something hard in my right hand, as my fingers wrap around it my mind screams to act. With a grunt the man starts his downward swing.
Sucking in a breathe of air I roll forward. With a cry of despair I drive the short blade between the man's legs. A primal scream echoes through out the coliseum, bringing the crowd to a stunned silence. His sword crashes to the ground as the man grasps at his severed manhood. Stunned by my own actions I stare in disbelief. A strangled grunt from the man awakens me to the situation at hand. Placing a foot against his thigh I pull the weapon free earning another agony filled cry from the man as he drops to his knees.
Slowly climbing to my feet I stare down at the sobbing man. He looks up at me and I can see he is pleading for me to end his pain. There is only one thing left to do. While I deplore the thought of killing an injured man, this will be more an act of mercy then murder. At least, that's the lie I'm going to tell myself.
Planting my feet I grasp the hilt with both hands. I don't bother to look at Caligula as I raise the sword, he'll have no say in this. With a grunt I strike at the base of the man's neck. The blade offers some resistance as it passes through the spine. But, the blow is clean and the head strikes the ground rolling twice stirring a small cloud of dust behind it. As the lifeless body strikes the ground the crowd jumps to it's feet as one, their cheers are deafening. Slowly pivoting around I'm stunned to find myself the only one still standing. Slowly the cheers and hoots turn to a single chant. "Amazon! Amazon!" They chant with a growing strength. For years I wondered what Xena felt as armies and crowds chanted her name. There were times when she seemed to relish it, almost thriving on it. During those times I wondered how I would feel in her place. Now as the crowd grows louder I slowly turn to study them, my stomach lunges and I swallow hard against the bile creeping up the back of my throat. How can people who claim to be so civilized treat their fellow humans as animals? If Rome is to be the leader of the civilized world I want no part of it.
My gaze finds its way to Caligula's balcony, the bastard is cheering. Tears stream down Eve's face as she watches me. The sword slips from my fingers and I barely notice as it strikes the ground near my feet. Slowly I turn and stagger toward the arena doorway, my legs grow heavier with each step yet I will them to move. I grasp in vain at the blood flowing from my wound. My vision is growing dim and I know it is only a matter of time till darkness over takes me. Stumbling through the doorway I welcome the cool, dark shadows, which greet me. Certain I can no longer be seen by the crowd I lean against a nearby wall. Slowly I slide helplessly to the dirt floor, two of the arena caretakers rush to me, I can feel hands lifting me from the ground then the world fades to darkness.
I awake to a searing pain in my side, a scream echoes off the walls and the smell of burning flesh assaults my senses. Somewhere in my pain filled mind I realize the scream is my own. Gasping for air I open my eyes to see a man standing over me with a white-hot poker. That explains the burning smell. "She's awake." says the man to someone outside of my vision. A grizzled old man wanders toward me eyeing me closely he frowns. "She's got fever setting in, doubt she'll make it through the night." I haven't the strength to laugh at his optimization.
A Centurion leans over his shoulder for a better look. Judging from his expression I must look as bad as I feel. "The Emperor wants to know the moment she dies so he can decide Livia's fate." he announces.
I bet he does, Caligula that bastard he's so eager to kill Eve. At least I know she's still alive. Though I'm not sure for how much longer. I won't be able to fight anytime soon. No, there be no more fights, the old man was right I'll be lucky if I survive the night. Slowly the images around me fade once more. Images and sounds take on strange forms as the fever clouds my mind.
Once more I feel hands lifting me but I neither know nor care where they are taking me. Time losses all meaning for me, memories and nightmares take turns haunting me. Several times I swear I can hear Xena calling softly to me, perhaps she is waiting to lead me to the Other Side. Soon I'll be with you Xena soon. How can I tell her that her daughter will be joining us, I don't know if I can bare the pain that will cause her.
Closing my eyes against gathering tears, I slip deeper into a fever filled darkness. Images come at me from the darkness and I struggle to know what is real and what is imagined. Voices fade in and out some I recognize as the caretakers of the arena other are ghosts from the past. "It won't be much longer now." growls a faceless voice as hands grab and hoist me up. "no..." I whisper, weakly struggling against them.
"Be still." orders the voice. "The Emperor wants to see you if you're still breathing." To weak to argue I drift off once more.
