Dying is easier
Maximus entered the provincial arena in Zuccabar, staring at the crowd that called for blood in disdain. Crassus - a gladiator that Proximo had only recently bought nervously awaited his first fight. He stood slightly behind Maximus. Aware of the power that this mans mere presence held.
Crassus had seen Maximus fight, and was amazed at the skill of the younger man, but Crassus knew that there was something troubling him, that forced him to succeed - no matter the cost.
Crassus jumped as two opposing gladiators entered the arena, Maximus turned to the poor unfortunate frightened man that stood behind him.
"Don't let them see that you are afraid." Maximus said as he rose, rubbing sand from the arena floor into his hands. "We are all afraid, but if you push your fear to the back of you mind, and concentrate on winning, then you will succeed." Crassus stared at Maximus in disbelief. How could he not be afraid? It was taking all of his control not to wet himself.
Maximus took a step forward. Bowing his head slightly out of respect for his enemy.
"And so it begins." Crassus whispered to himself. He watched Maximus single out his opponent, then stepped forward to meet the gladiator that was stalking him. I'm not meant to be here! he thought, I'm a scribe for Hades sakes! His sword clashed with his enemies, the man he fought was tall and muscular, but slow. However, he was glad that he wasn't fighting Maximus' opponent.
The man that Maximus was fighting was at least 4 inches taller than Maximus and heavily muscled. Maximus had singled him out as he had recognised him as the barbarian commander. Maximus smiled weakly at him before slashing powerfully with his sword. He parried quickly as his opponent fought back. The tall German returned the smile, and Maximus knew he had been recognised. "How ironic" he thought "That 2 great military commanders are here, and fighting for nothing more than entertainment."
Maximus glanced up at the stands, and saw Proximo deep in discussion with a richly dressed spectator, gesturing wildly as his young son turned away from the gladiators bored.
Proximo looked at his gladiators. The Spaniard was once again proving his worth, and Crassus. Crassus was holding his own, but they both looked evenly matched by their opponents.
"I'm bored!" Fabius' sons whining voice made Proximo turn back to Fabius, displeasure clearly visible on his face.
"Proximo." Fabius called the older man harshly, "I want Marrius."
"With respect sir, I couldn't do that. They're fighting well for you."
This id boring!" the child whined. Proximo shook his head trying to rid himself of the irritation. He looked at Fabius.
"I will pay you 60,000 sesterces for Marrius." he tried
"Really sir…I can't." Proximo said, loathe to turn down money, but unwilling to slaughter his Spaniard needlessly.
"70,000." Fabius tried. Proximo shook his head.
"These men are too valuable Sire." Fabius' son squealed again
"FATHER!" Proximo looked at he child in disgust, now if he could put this boy in the ring he would be more than willing to give Fabius Marrius.
"YOU WILL GIVE ME MARRIUS…90,000sesterces, and not a penny more!" Proximo looked at his Spaniard, the back to Fabius, torn.
"140,000" he asked, it was a huge rise he knew, but less than what he would loose in future fights if the Spaniard died. Fabius agreed and held out his hand, which Proximo shook greedily before leaving to inform the arena guards of the new plan.
Maximus grunted as he swung his sword at the Germanian. The swords clashed, the massive force jarring Maximus' arm. The Gaul backed away from Maximus, hoping to regain his breath.
Crassus and his opponent paused as the doors opened once more and Marrius charged into the arena. Maximus stared up at Proximo accusingly. He wondered how much that rich bastard had paid him for this.
Crassus took advantage of the moment to slay his opponent, feeling the joy of his first kill before an immense pain swallowed him into nothingness as the huge rhino gorged a hole in his stomach.
Maximus barely had time to respond. Quickly he ducked under the Germanians blade and thrust his sword deep into his body. He allowed himself a moment's pity before turning to face the rhino.
Quickly he dived to the side, but hot soon enough. The rhino's horn gouged a deep wound in his side and sent him sailing through the air.
Maximus gasped as he hit the ground hard on his left shoulder, feeling something give under the impact. He pushed the pain to one side, and rolled to his feet to meet his new opponent. He saw the rhino paw the ground on the other side of the arena, and was reminded of the bullfights in his native Spain. He pulled his tunic over his head, wincing at the pain that threatened to overwhelm his senses.
Maximus flicked the tunic like a Matador and struggled to hold his ground as the rhino charged him, thundering past. Maximus backed up until his heels touched the arena wall. He flicked the tunic again and the rhino charged, crashing into the wall, crushing the people behind and trapping his horn in the wooden slats. Immediately Maximus rolled under his belly, trying to gut the struggling animal. He swore as his sword stuck in the rhinos thick skin. He rolled away, running across the arena, his wounded left arm clamped against his side that poured with blood.
The rhino screamed in pain and anger, the beast yanked his horn free, and charged Maximus even as it was dying.
Maximus stood still, preying that the animal would fall before it reached him, but no longer caring if it smashed his body into 1000 pieces. His vision swam and he knew that he was loosing too much blood. He jerked back to reality as the rhino collapsed, its momentum carrying its dead weight towards him.
He sighed in relief as the rhinos body stopped mere inches away from him, and the previously silent crowd roared in delight, screaming his name.
Maximus walked towards the prone body of Crassus, and smiled sadly at the young man who had died in his first fight.
"Dying is easier…" Crassus whispered to Maximus before his eyes closed and he walked the long road to Elysium.
Maximus walked slowly towards the gates that opened at his approach, he paused and shook his head to clear his vision before walking to his cell. He paused as his vision blurred again.
Proximo watched in awe as his gladiator slaughtered the rhino that had cost so many men their lives. He held out his hand to Fabius, who grudgingly counted out 70,000 sesterces. Proximo raised his eyebrows questioningly
"You will get the rest this evening." Fabius turned away disgusted. His son, for once, said nothing.
Proximo spun on his heels and walked towards the cells, wishing to congratulate his hero.
Proximo stood outside of Maximus' empty cell, after waiting a short while he turned to the guard.
"Have you seen the Spaniard?" he asked the guard shrugged.
"Claudius probably got him a whore." He said smiling, referring to one of the other guards. Proximo shook his head, The Spaniard had never shown any interest in women…or men for that matter. All he did was fight, eat and sleep. He never looked to socialise outside of a small circle of friends.
Something was wrong.
Proximo headed towards the entrance tunnel, hoping that Maximus had just been stopped by avid fans…he had become a living god to these people, they would wait hours for just a glimpse of him, strain for just one touch of his muscular body as he worked his way through the crowds.
His heart skipped a beat when he saw the Spaniards prone form lying motionless in the sand of the corridor.
Proximo crouched next to him, one hand feeling for a pulse. He could see a vast blood stain on the tunic, but could not see the severity of the wound.
Proximo looked around anxiously, there was no-one in sight, he was loath to leave Maximus' side but knew he must. He glanced at the man once before turning to leave.
"Don't die, Spaniard…" he said gruffly before turning to leave.
It wasn't long before Proximo saw the same guard as before in the distance.
"Guard! Stop!" the man paused at the harshness of Proximo's tone "Hurry man! I need help!" the guard jogged down the corridor to Proximo.
"What is the matter Proximo?" He asked
"I need a doctor, the Spaniard is hurt." The guard paused, unsure why the lanista would want to spend vast amounts of money on a slave he would only send to his death later…"Now!" Proximo barked, the guard took no chance with Proximo's anger, and left to find a surgeon, still wondering why the man was so worried about a slave.
Proximo hurried back down the tunnel and knelt at Maximus' side. He was relieved to find his eyes open, he watched amazed as Maximus struggled to sit up.
"Spaniard, don't move…" he said, his tone still gruff. Maximus blinked, was Proximo worried? He grunted at the pain the movement caused.
"Lie still Spaniard, a doctor is coming." Maximus grimaced.
"I hate bloody doctors…" he growled
"Does the invincible warrior have a name?" Proximo asked, a little softer this time, Maximus looked at him in confusion. "It is not good for a lanista to not know the names of him fighters, especially one so renowned."
"My name is Maximus…" he said after a beat
"A good strong name…it suits you." Proximo said softly…he realised he had let his emotion show. "A strong name" he added gruffly
Maximus grimaced as pain shot through his side, and he fought to keep the waved of nausea at bay, his stomach clenching painfully.
"Where is the doctor?" Proximo shouted angrily, his voice echoing in the empty corridor, Maximus touched his arm.
"One will come, no man is going to rush for a Gladiator. Why save a man now, to watch him die later?" He had said the words calmly but couldn't disguise the bitterness that had crept into his voice. Proximo grunted reluctant agreement. He looked at Maximus, even pale and bleeding, he couldn't detect any weakness in him.