Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to Harry Potter or Spartacus. All properties therein are those of their creators.
Chapter Four - The Arena Beckons
"So how was your first experience as a doctore?" Harry asked over the rim of his bowl as he chowed down on the protein gruel that all the men were fed post exercise. The older slave had invited him to the solitude of his cell to eat together and to offer his thanks once more for all that he'd said and done after he'd been forced to kill his predecessor.
"It was… odd." Oenomaus admitted. "I feel that the men still like me, but they do not offer proper respect. My predecessor could slam the whip and all eyes were on him in instant awe, yet when I put whip to thought barely any take notice."
"That is a pickle."
"Pardon?"
"A phrase from my homeland, don't worry about it. Look Oenomaus, I've led men before, and at my young age it was not easy. I can tell you that this right here, speaking as friends alone, that is fine. Yet out there on the training ground you cannot be seen to be soft or kind. Do not expect respect, demand it. Even I had to put a couple of people down on their asses before the main crowd of my students fell in line. So be brutal for a while, provide necessary discipline, and trust that the men will thank you for it later."
"Hm." The dark skinned man thought those words over for a while. "You speak sense, Harry. Gratitude. Yet I find myself once more wondering greatly about this past you hint at yet never fully explain."
The younger man smiled at his mentor and said, "Perhaps one day I will tell you the full story, but not yet. Remembering that life isn't exactly comfortable."
"Of course." Oenomaus nodded. He'd been of the Batiatus Ludus since he was a child, having been sold to settle his family's debts, and didn't truly remember life before his service, but he knew many slaves who found their pasts to be painful, and voluntarily chose to put them behind them to move on in their new roles. So instead he changed the subject. "The test is coming soon. How are you feeling about it?"
"Like I'm capable enough to beat any of the brothers here except maybe Gannicus."
"Do not be overproud."
"I'm not. I've carefully weighed my skills against the others, but I will admit that Barca might prove a challenge. The advanced reach of his spear is troublesome, but I'm good at dodging so all I'd need to do is get close."
"Yes, but you forget he is much bigger than you."
"True, but I'm faster."
"Hm." The man seemed to consider what he was about to say for a moment before clearly deciding to go for it. "The dominus has secured advantageous position for Gannicus in the upcoming games. What is more, he desires good showing from his ludus and is considering advancing the test sooner so that you and the others could compete if you pass. Do you think you could pass if you attempted it now?"
"Easily."
"And Crixus?"
"With how much Gannicus has been teaching him, yes."
The tall man cringed, "I'd ask about Asher, but we already know how he turned out."
The two fell into a simple silence as Harry continued to eat. In fact, nothing else was said until he finished his bowl. At that point he started to get an idea about another possible reason for this private meeting. "Did Mellita talk to you?"
"...Yes." Oenomaus breathed out slowly and clenched his fists over his crossed knees. From where he sat across from the wizard it was clear how much the man was struggling with what he had learned.
"You do not need to put words to thoughts if it is too much now."
"No. You have been a true friend to me and my wife, and I need to understand my thoughts by giving them voice. Please, listen."
"Of course."
"I know she had no choice in what happened." He said slowly. "I know that Gannicus was only following orders. And I know that with the guests involved only swift and brutal punishment would have followed disobedience, yet still…"
"Still, your wife laid with your best friend." Harry finished for him. "It is not a simple thing to come to terms with."
"What do I do with this, Harry? Who do I blame?"
"No one."
"What?"
"I'd say blame Batiatus, but we both know nothing good can come from that. What occurred was horrible, but nothing can be done about it now. Comfort your wife, forgive your friend if you can, and try to move forward. Understand that they were 'both' horribly violated last night in body and soul. This is the best thing you can do."
"I… will attempt this thing. But I don't think I will be able to look Gannicus in the eye again for some time."
"I would be surprised if he could look into yours for a while either. I imagine he believes himself to have betrayed both Mellita and you. His guilt will be great."
"Is it wrong that I want to both defend him and punch him in the face?"
"No, I'd say that is likely normal." When it seemed that Oenomaus wasn't going to offer anything else, Harry set his bowl down and rose back to his feet. "If there isn't anything more then I should get back to training. If that test is coming fast as you say, I need to be ready."
"Wise words, my friend. Wise words. But we should both be getting back onto the sands. The dominus has informed me that he wishes to address us all before the afternoon practice begins in haste and I must call the others to attention."
And so they returned to the open space where soon they were joined by the other gladiators. A quick strike of Oenomeus' whip had them moving into a straight formation (even if some were rather slow in following the clear order), and soon enough Batiatus was standing at the railing above, ready to speak to his warriors. Harry couldn't help but notice Gaia standing beside his wife and offered the woman a wink that she saucily returned right back at him. Gannicus was at the lannista's right hand and soon enough Oenomeus mounted the stairs behind the cells and took his place at his right.
"We have won many great victories in the arena!" The dominus declared in a proud booming voice. "Many an unworthy foe has fallen beneath our blades and sandals, been sent to the afterlife, and been found wanting. Yet self-important men have set us at arms length, and held us to the lesser tiered matches of the morning; absent both eyes of the crowd and prominence. Such time however has found its end." The Lannista smirked as he explained, "Two days hence our champion shall take to the sands to face another of Vettius' shit eating dogs! Not this time in the streets, but the fucking primus!"
That got a reaction from the men, who all stared wildly at the champion of the ludus. It was clear to see who would be competing and the primus was the pinnacle of the entire event, the highlight of Capua's year. To be a featured combatant in it was to be immortalized in name and reputation. They cheered as one and began raising their fists toward the still downcast looking man. Only the raised hands of their master quieted them all down once more.
"Behold the champion whose recent performance earned grace and position in this mighty event, and inspired good Varus to restore the house of Batiatus to proper position. Gannicus!" He gestured to the man at his left and the gladiators cheered anew for their comrade, pleased to see him gain the recognition they felt he deserved. Only Harry could see the conflict inside him as the man wrestled with what he'd done to get it.
"A true god of the arena," the owner continued, "a man to be admired and emulated. This is but a glorious beginning. Soon you too shall litter the sand with the blood and bone of those who present challenge to this great house." He gestured to his right and Oenomeus stepped forth, "You will do this with the training of yet another champion of this house, a god of death and steel, the only man to face Theokoles and live, Oenomaus!" More cheers. "Heed his words and whip well, and he will see you all rise to heights you can only dream of!"
Quintus went on to say some more things about how great his house was, but Harry didn't really care. His eyes were locked onto Gaia's own as she curled her finger through her hair and gently licked the edges of her lips in the way she knew drove him wild. The minx was teasing him! Oh he'd get her back for that sure as day. In fact… meeting her eyes he took in the memories at the front of her mind and saw that she'd spent the last night watching Quintus and Lucretia going at it, and that she had gained several ideas for what they might get up to later. Naughty girl.
Due to that exchange Harry fully expected to be summoned up to service the noble woman in short order, as was her habit. Yet instead he found himself continuing as usual in the training grounds and driving his opponents into the dirt without issue. Now that Oenomaus had been named doctore there was no real challenge left except for Crixus, and he was still fighting Gannicus. To be sure he enjoyed the exercise, but he'd have enjoyed the 'cardio' Gaia could provide even more.
This continued on its usual course until the bell rang for a cease to exertion and a start to the evening meal. As was tradition the branded brothers were served first, then came Harry and Crixus who earned grudging nods from the other gladiators. They were not full brothers of the ludus yet, but the skill they'd shown on the sand, as well as the vouching of both Gannicus and Oenomaus, was working in their favor.
It was as they were taking their seats on a bench by the wall that Crixus noticed something of interest. "Why are they changing the serving pot?"
Harry looked up from his bowl and indeed a new pot was being placed on the table. The answer became clear soon enough as both Asher and his Syrian comrade entered into the space. "I'd say because we are about to get a show, brother."
As he spoke, the Syirans dished up, shared oddly respectful words with the others, and then dug into their food… only to spit it out at once the moment their tongues tasted the gathered piss of fourteen men who had added their own 'seasoning' to the pot. They were understandably upset, especially when Barca made it clear the men collectively believed they had not actually earned their marks, and violence seemed imminent until Gannicus raised his hand and pointed the affronted men out of the dining space. No one wanted to mess with their best fighter so close to the pinnacle event of his career. The newest brothers left without further complaint.
Things would have gone on normally from there, but it seemed Oenomaus had taken his protege's words to heart for as soon he came down he collected Gannicus and took him over to the edge of the cliffside where no one could overhear them.
"What is this about, Oenomaus?" Gannicus spoke without looking at his friend.
"I think you know." the bigger man stated evenly, earning a gasp of shock from his brother in all but blood.
"Oenomaus, I-"
"Do not speak. A fearful tongue will say words the heart will later regret. This I know. Instead, listen to words thought hard on by a friend you have hurt." Gannicus gulped and nodded, so the other man continued. "You are my brother, my oldest friend, and Mellita is my wife, the heart of my life." Oenomaus sighed and stared out at the space below, bathed in the dimming light of the sunset. "I… know of what happened between you. She told me."
"Brother-"
"She also told me that it was not your fault. A fact that Harry verified later by way of the Lady Gaia. You followed orders, so did Mellita. I do not hate you for that, nor can I blame you." Turning to face a gobsmacked Gannicus head on he finished, "I am not happy. My heart has taken a wound, but it is not a wound you caused, rather it is one that exists for the pain that both you and my wife have suffered. Pain that I was not able to stop from occurring no matter how much I wish I could have."
Reaching out to grasp his friend's shoulder firmly he added, "I would not have past deeds beyond either of our control affect our friendship."
"Neither would I." Gannicus didn't look like he could believe the words he was hearing.
"It will take time to heal, but heal we shall."
The two men embraced warmly before returning to the others just in time for the arrival of an old man who greeted the gathered gladiators like long lost relatives. Harry would later learn that this was Quintus's father, and his presence was the reason that Gaia had not called for him. Apparently he'd arrived after his son's speech and Lucretia had decided that no funny business could occur under their roof so long as he resided inside.
The next morning's training proved a bit strained with his addition to the house, as all of the old man's attention was on their movement, as well as Oenomaus' role of doctore. It seemed the two of them had been close before his retirement and now he was getting the new lay of the land as it were for what had changed in his absence. It meant a good showing was in order.
Harry, who was training against the spear wielding Auctus shrugged toward the branded man. "Sorry, old chum, but the boss man is watching."
"What?"
The wizard dove in, keeping his eyes looked on those of his target to read his surface thoughts the instant they occurred. It turned out his bedroom trick did indeed work just as well to handle spear wielders, and it had the added bonus of psyching his opponents out as typically watching eyes alone in a fight was a good way for a gladiator to end up dead, yet in his case it proved effective as he nimbly dodged two thrusts and swipes before ducking in, kicking the man's spear holding wrist to disarm him and thwacking him mightily on the back of the head. He went down without even a sound. As he moved to retrieve some water he mused that such a trick wouldn't work for someone wearing a helmet. Too much chance of breaking eye contact at an unfortunate moment.
After slapping the man awake once more and helping him to his feet, Harry glanced again at the balcony and saw the old man watching him directly and nodding with appreciation. He seemed like a man who appreciated honor, even if there really was none in their shit world. Then the former lannista's eyes turned to Crixus and the wizard knew what he was seeing. A Gaul who stood two heads shorter than most of the men, yet withstood the attacks of Barca with great strength and poise. Crixus was not agile, but he was resilient, and his hand eye coordination was excellent. Each attack was parried, each feint met, and though he was not yet skilled enough to outright defeat the veteran of the ludus, he was at least holding his position, a sight that seemed to infuriate the spearman.
Up above, Titus Batiatus stared down at the spectacle of his house's warriors doing battle and training their bodies to the pinnacle of human ability, and he had to smile. By the gods had he missed this sight while he lay retired in Sicilia. There was nothing quite like it. He even had to grudgingly admit that his boy had done well in acquiring the two new slaves currently in action, though the Syrians were disappointingly average in comparison.
Turning to Mellita as she poured him a glass of watered wine (and wasn't it a joy to see her again) he asked, "That svelte man, the newcomer, what can you tell me of him?"
In spite of recent events leaving their mark within her still, Mellita smiled at the mention of the younger man. "That is Harry, Dominus."
"Harry? An odd name, that. Where does he hail from?"
"He is a Briton, Dominus. Britannia was his homeland."
"Fascinating." The old man stroked his chin as he took a sip of his drink. There was just something lovely about Capua wine that made it better than anywhere else in the world. "I've never actually seen a Briton before. The way he moves is certainly unique. Low, quick, agile, eyes on the prey at all times and no wasted movement or energy until the dodge or the strike. He reminds me a bit of a lion."
"He is amazing, Dominus." At the man's raised brow she elaborated. "He showed enough promise to earn direct training and interest from my husband. Now the two are quite close. He saw some… pain that I was feeling, and convinced me not to keep it inside and speak to Oenomaus. He is a good man."
"Then he is a gentleman as well as a warrior. A rare combination." Titus leaned against the railing. "What am I to do, Mellita? Missives from good Solonius paint my son as the fool, yet his choice in warriors seems promising, hinting at the true Eye of the Lannista that I had long thought him lacking. Does he truly have the eye for this work? As a father I wish nothing but for that to be true, yet his reliance on Gannicus," his eyes took in the drunken man as he stumbled out of his cell to the water barrel, "is troubling."
Before Mellita could say anything in defense of the man his son came stumbling up to the balcony reaching for a glass of water. "Apologies, father. I had not known you had arisen."
"I awoke at a respectable hour, perhaps you should have done the same. Now come and attend me."
"Where are we going?"
"To put water to the fire you've started beneath this house."
When Harry looked up again the elder Batiatus had departed, and he later learned from Oenomaus that he'd left to meet with Tullius and his man Vettius. Likely to attempt to smooth over whatever harm his son had caused to the fragile peace between gladiatorial schools in Capua. Regardless, that was nothing to do with him. He had his own worries at hand like the upcoming test for entry into the brotherhood. To that end he trained back to back with Crixus facing both of their opponents, and then they took turns facing two spearmen at once. It was difficult and they both ended up bloody and bruised, but they believed the experience to have been beneficial.
Things carried on in that vein for several hours more until the dinner bell rang, calling an end to the day's exertions. As one they entered the dining area and dished up as before, yet as was the case in the past, the Briton and the Gaul sensed something amiss in the air. A feeling that drew their eyes to Asher and Dagan who were munching on meat from very small and slight bones.
"Were we being served chicken this day?" Crixus asked under his breath. By now the others gathered to eat were feeling the tension as well.
"No we were not." Harry answered in kind, scooting further back along the bench to separate himself from whatever clusterfuck was sure to follow.
And follow it did. It seemed those bones belonged to Auctus's pet birds, who seemed to have been captured and cooked. As was expected, the man himself and his boyfriend Barca came charging in like the hounds of hell and the two groups began wailing on each other. It wasn't long until the others got involved as well.
As they watched, Gannicus approached them. "You were recruits with those men, should you not be helping them?"
Harry scoffed, "If you think we're getting in the middle of that, you're crazy."
Crixus agreed, "We are not branded brothers. It would not be right for us to intervene in these matters."
"Well I sure as shit can." And so Gannicus too waded into what was quickly becoming a full scale brawl. It was soon much to all of their embarrassment as the gate to the upper levels burst open and Titus came storming in with his son right on his heels.
"Is this what my house has fallen to?!" He bellowed. "Brother against brother, rolling around in the dirt so far removed from the honor of the arena?" He growled, "This is a further sign of the insult to the gods you have all become. Reason enough to have the primus ripped from our hands."
Gannicus was aghast at those words. "I do not fight in the games?"
"You do not." As the men grumbled at this disgrace, Quintus tried to reassure them that all was not lost.
"My father's deal with Tullius precludes us from the primus event, but the sacrifices you have made are not entirely in vain. Several of you shall be met on the arena sands after the noonday sun. Harry, Crixus, you shall be among them. Consider this a test by fire to earn your mark, or die to the applause of the crowd."
Still growling under his rage, Titus added, "And may your performance there bring more honor to the house of Batiatus then your conduct today has lost yourselves."
Later that night the men were gathered in the large baths when notice of the matchups was presented. It always amazed Harry how open the men were with their nudity, and he eventually got used to his own, but it was still odd for him on occasion. Several men took note of the fact they were fighting each other, including Asher who was fighting Dagan, then Barca and Auctus saw who they were fighting.
"The fucking newbies." They groaned before moving off to coat their muscles in oil for a massage. There were a team of slaves always at the ready in the baths that specialized in massage, physical therapy, and medicine to maintain the stock of gladiators in the ludus. It wouldn't do for the prize breadwinners to be taken out by torn muscles and stressed ligaments after all.
Harry bumped shoulders with Crixus, "Fear not, brother. We will show them our worth soon and they will be proud to have crossed blades with us."
The Gaul nodded his thanks at such words before moving over to the baths. Harry meanwhile joined the others making use of the masseuses. Healing or not he was still sore and felt the need for relaxation. Or at least he would have were he not informed of a guest to see him at the barred entrance. Naturally he assumed it was a request from Gaia so he quickly donned his waist wrap and made his way out, only to be surprised when he saw Mellita holding a weeping brunette in her arms.
"Mellita?" He questioned carefully as he made his way to the gate, folding his fingers through the holes in the steel as he leaned down to look at them more clearly. "What is this?"
The wife of Oenomaus gently ran her fingers through her guest's hair before saying, "What happened to me… it happened to this one as well. Her name is Diona."
Harry frowned at that information. "What would you like me to do about it?"
The body slave stared up into his eyes with steel in her resolve and said, "I don't really know. My own mind was as shattered debris after Gannicus… but you spoke only a few words and brought me back to myself. You helped. I would see you at least try to help this one as well."
"And how do you know that I can?"
"I don't know, I just… believe."
"P-Please." Diona wailed before pulling herself closer to her superior, seeking any comfort that she could.
The wizard sighed, he'd never been able to resist crying women. "Very well, but I make no promises." He hadn't really needed to help Mellita so much as simply guide her to the right course of action, but this seemed like it would be a bit more difficult. "Diona, take my hand." He instructed before waiting and watching as the girl nervously pulled away from her safe space to thread her fingers with his own through the bars. "Now, look into my eyes."
Mellita stared curiously on as he junior did so. She'd noticed over time that her Briton friend had a strange fixation on eye contact when he did things, be it fighting, interacting with people, or fucking in Gaia's case. She wondered idly what that all was about.
For his own part, Harry was disgusted by what he was seeing in the girl's mind, far more than what he'd witnessed with Mellita's assault. It seemed that Varus had come back to the villa once more while the men were away to 'partake in the unique pleasures of the House of Batiatus'; except this time he'd arrived with a friend, a fellow noble with horrendously sick and twisted ideas of pleasure. He'd requested a virgin, and when Diona had been brought to him he'd also made a demand for a male slave covered in filth. They'd raped the girl together, violently, degrading her all the while and delighting in, in the noble's words, showing her just how filthy she and the real world truly were. It was perhaps one of the most sickening things Harry had ever witnessed.
Coming out of the trance he continued to hold the girl's gaze, willing a hypnotic tense to it that kept her eyes locked onto his own as he addressed the other woman present. "Mellita, this just happened, didn't it?"
"Yes. The dominus and his father returned shortly after and I brought her right here once I was able."
"Good. Had she had time to stew on all that happened to her this would be much worse. She will need healing ointments and cream for bruises and tears. You or a friend must apply it and if at all possible keep her away from men for a while."
The older woman nodded and replied, "I or her friend Naevia can handle the poultices, and I will assign her to the kitchens for the time being. The domina will understand. She was… displeased at the way her slave was handled."
"Perfect." Bringing his full attention to bear on the victim once more he invaded her mind in full and wound his will around the memories of her assault until he'd formed a spectral cage to control them. He couldn't eliminate them from her memory, no matter how much he wanted to. As a practitioner of the mind arts he was not yet that skilled and he didn't know how to do so without potentially impacting her psyche as a whole, but what he could do was control how much the recollection affected her at once. Instead of a massive stream of trauma hitting her like a lorry at speed, it was a trickle, slowly entering her synapses in a controlled manner and giving the girl the chance to come to terms with the rape at her own pace. In a sense, he'd taken the shock and awe out of the situation and dulled the impact. It still hurt, and she was no doubt still traumatized, but the poor girl was at least no longer catatonic. Being able to function once more was progress.
Now it was time to handle the mental damage to her self-image that fucking noble had tried to implant in her. Still molding his will around her psyche he whispered for her ears alone, "That bastard lied to you, Diona. The world is not shit, and you most certainly are not either. You are beautiful, intelligent, strong, and what happened to you does not define you. The world can be beautiful if you allow it the time to reveal its splendor, and I promise you that if you just give it a chance, things will get better. You believe me, don't you?"
The girl's mouth was opening and closing as tears began to fall freely once more from wide open eyes. "I-I do. Why do I believe you?"
"Because I'm right." Harry could hardly tell her he was influencing her emotions and working to mitigate her trauma from inside her head. First of all she wouldn't believe him, second he had never worked with this much intricacy before and he was kinda flying by the seat of his pants. Most of all she believed him because the girl desperately wanted to. She wanted to believe that the noble had lied to her. She wanted to believe the world was not a place of shit and despair. And she wanted to believe that everything would eventually be okay again.
"Good things will come if you let them. In the meantime you have your friends, you have Mellita, and now you have me. We will care for you, watch over you, and talk to you as long and as often as you need us. You are not alone."
"Thank you." Tears of relief were falling in steady rivulets from Diona's face as she repeated that word again and again and again. "Thank you!" "Thank you!" "Thank you!"
As her fellow slave broke down once more, Mellita allowed herself a moment to believe that things might actually get better for the girl. And at the same time she found herself wondering once more just what power over people her trainee friend seemed to have. Everyone he met seemed to change for the better and she was curious who would be next.
