Victoria looked up as her father entered her bedroom. She stood near the bed while Acca laid her extensive list of dresses on sheets, both of them trying to pick what would work best for the games. "Father? Something wrong?"
He gave a mere shake of his head. "You look like your mother."
Victoria smiled. "A fact made known by your every appearance." She gestured to the array of silks of fabrics on her bed. "What do you think? Gold? Blue? Red?"
"Whatever you wear will make Venus green with envy." Argus took a seat at her vanity and faced her. "Dresses are not my concern for the moment."
"And what is?" She asked, an eyebrow arching suspiciously at his change in tone.
"Rumors fly through Rome of your actions." Her father said. "Rising against your husband like a storm with no end."
Victoria crossed her arms and sat down on an empty spot on her bed. "Acteon is not the man I married. Once, he was hungry and passionate, and now he is but dull husk of what he was. Grown fat and complacent on our name and our coin, too soft to make his own. I am no longer content. He is a vile man with a vile heart."
"Your heart is the one that's always burned, but remained soft to the touch." Argus smirked. "Again…"
"Like mother."
He nodded. "And you are right. Acteon is no longer worthy of you, but as I said, I will not yet annul your marriage until you have proven yourself capable of finding a new husband that is more to your status."
"Or I need not marry anyone at all. Not so soon." She cautioned him. "I have plans to unseat my husband and his champion in the wake of my marriage's demise. With that done, Father, it will open many doors for us both."
"What do you think of Caesar?"
Victoria swallowed. "What do you mean?"
"Right now, Rome has three faces. The Triumvirate is rising to power. Crassus, Pompey and Caesar. With skillful touch, my face could join them-"
"Or overshadow them." She smirked. "What do you think of Emperor Argus Caesetius Cassianus?"
He laughed as a deceitful glint entered his eye. "You make fine argument. However, a betrothal to Caesar would solidify our position."
"Then I will go to Rome. I can be of much use there."
He nodded slowly, tasting their plans on his tongue, the riches and power that would lay at his fingertips. She knew her father would not be able to resist as she could not. "And these plans of yours...Are they mere visions or may come to fruition?"
"You will see during the games. I promise you this." She smiled.
Argus rose to his feet and she did as well, accepting a light kiss on her forehead. "Very good, Victoria. Very good, indeed."
"Thank you, Father. Now, off with you. Never distract a woman from choosing a perfect dress." He chuckled softly as he left the room. Victoria turned back to her bed and looked over her wardrobe. "The green one. Prepare my emeralds please, Acca, I shall return soon." Acca gave a simple dip of her head as she did as commanded. Victoria silently made her way through the villa to the gladiator quarters and sent one of her guards to retrieve Banta, the third gladiator that would participate in the games. He, unlike Archaeus, had continued his training and was quite used to fighting upon the sands. He posed a threat that needed to be eliminated. Her guard returned with Banta, a stocky and imposing man covered in tattoos with hair cropped short, per the command of Acteon. He hailed from Carthage, but had long since given up returning home.
"Domina." He said with a bow.
"Leave us." She commanded to the guard. "Wait by the door." The guard dipped his head and moved into position. She turned to Banta. "You have been chosen as the third contender for the championship. Do you know this?"
"Yes, Domina."
"Do you intend to win?"
"For the honor and glory of this house." He replied automatically, perhaps believing that those were the words she wanted to hear.
She shook her head. "What if I grant you something more?" She asked. "Freedom, citizenship, coin. All of this and more will be yours if you but do one thing for me." A spark flickered in his hard gaze as he waited for her commands. "Lose. I need Duro to win the games. Archaeus is a slob, hardly worthy of even calling himself a gladiator. You and I have spoken at length. I know what you desire above all else. Your sister." His face softened at the mere mention of her. Victoria often talked to the house slaves and the gladiators, as it was a ludus after all. She listened to them, their stories, heard the tales of their lives. That was part of the reason why she was so concerned for those in her house. "I found her, Laria. She is being brought to the ludus as we speak."
"Do you mean this? You found her?" Hope flickered in his eyes and a skeptic smile threatened to take over his lips.
"Yes. She will be given her freedom as well. You know the extent of my power to do this. But I need Duro to win. Not just win, but you must make his win... exceptional. He has not yet gained the skill to win on his own, this I know. Given time, he could. However, that is time we do not have. Will you do this for me?"
"Yes, Domina." He said, with no hesitation. "And my sister?"
"If you survive, she will be waiting for you. Along with a horse, food, clothing and as much gold as you can carry. But you must do this-"
"I will wrest the gods from the heavens and bring you their heads if you can return my sister to me." Banta vowed.
She smiled. "Then so be it." Good. This could work. Her plan could work. If it did, then Duro would have to do much more to elevate the both of them. He would need to become a greater champion than Gannicus, Crixus and Spartacus ever were. She needed Rome to know of her champion. Of her.
/
Duro knew this. For what Victoria wanted, he would need to become a lot more. A titan, a god among men. He needed to learn faster, train harder, become smarter. The young german was seated on his cot, thinking of his brother, wondering if he was faring as well under the rule of Batiatus. He was older, stronger. He was always the better fighter. Perhaps Victoria should have chosen him.
"Duro?" He quickly straightened up when he heard her voice. She opened the barred door to his room that was separated from the other gladiators and sat down near the door. He moved from the cot to sit in front of her.
"Yes, Domina?"
She smiled, causing his heart to flutter. "How do you fare? Are you ready?"
"I do not know." He answered truthfully. "I do not want to fail you."
"I know that I have placed great pressure on your shoulders." She said softly. "I know that I ask for much, but gain enough prestige and it can earn you and your brother your freedom."
"Freedom is not all that I desire anymore." He replied. He noticed that she was still wearing the necklace he had given her. It was but a trinket, hardly worthy to grace a neck such as hers. "You should rise, lest you ruin such finery." He gestured to her dress.
She scoffed. "It is a dress. I possess plenty more. But you are right, I should go. Before I do…" She pulled out a necklace and placed it in his hands. It was made from soft, braided leather, with a small stone hanging from it. "I sent a courier to pull a stone from the Rhine River and return to me. This way, you will have a piece of your homeland with you." She rose to her feet and wiped off her dress. "Good night, and may the gods see fit to guide your sword on the sands. Oh, and if you can, refrain from killing Banta." She departed, just as softly as she had come and Duro slid the necklace onto his neck.
/
He held still as the slaves shaved his body of any excess hair. He remained stagnant as an old man roughly shaved the sides of his head while a woman braided his hair. More slaves dressed him in his armor and placed an axe and shield in his hands. A helmet was fitted to his head, and he was ready to step onto the sands.
What is beneath your feet?
The doors opened and he was hit hard by the heat and the roaring of the crowd. He stepped forward, taking a deep breath.
Sacred ground, Doctore. Watered with tears of blood.
He looked up at Banta. He was a secutor as well, although he chose to wield a sword rather than an axe. Archaeus preferred to fight as a murmillo. He was busy pandering to the crowd. Duro hardly listened to the introductions. When he heard Victoria's name, he raised his head. She was beautiful, sitting next to Lucretia and her father. Important people were witnessing this fight. He needed to put on a show. For her.
Your tears. Your blood. A gladiator does not fear death. He embraces it, caresses it...fucks it.
"Begin!"
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