In Veritas Memento
Rating: NC 17
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All aspects of Spartacus: Gods of the Arena are owned by Steven De Knight and Starz. This is for pure entertainment value alone.
This story takes place after the episode Missio, yet it veers completely into an A/U after the events of that episode. I am a huge fan of the series Spartacus; however, my favorite character is Gannicus. This is his story.
Warnings: M for a reason. This story is much like the show. It contains bad words and smut! If that is not your cup of tea, turn back now. Although, if cussing and nude scenes offend, are you sure you're a fan of Spartacus?! ;) Hehehe. Kidding. Anyhow, you've been warned.
Pairings: There are multiple pairings, and Gannicus has more than one partner in this story, however, Gannicus/Melitta is endgame. If reading Gannicus with multiple pairings offends you, again, turn back now.
A/N: This story has been rewritten, so, do not be surprised if much has changed if you have already read this.
Chapter 17: laboris gloria Ludi: Games are the glory of work.
Quintus and his party were extremely late, later than expected, due to a broken wagon wheel they suffered just before they reached town. By the time they arrived it was past mid-day and there were only a few matches left for the day. Batiatus could see disappointment on his father's face as he, Lucretia and Gaia made their way to the pulvinus for seating, which was scarce. Quintus observed his father had taken up seating in the second row along with Vettius. Batiatus barely resisted rolling his eyes. His father's willingness to accept shit and smile about it should not surprise, he was forever prattling about being nothing more than a simple lanista! Well, Quintus wanted more. The Roman nobles had the prominent seats, of course, with Cossutius occupying center chair, as he was hosting the games. Varis sat on his right, with Octavia on his left. Tullius was further down the row in between the Magistrate and Lacuvius, the lanista who owned Negrimus. Once again Vettius was relegated to a seat behind the front row and Quintus's mood brightened upon witnessing the sour expression on the boy's face. Vettius had not made the Primus for the Floralia and it was obviously not sitting well.
Octavia waved them over to the seats she had saved for their group. The blonde Roman grabbed Gaia's hand and dragged her into the seat next to her and tilted her head to Lucretia to take the next one. "Finally, you arrive," she said. "I was beginning to fear you'd miss contest altogether!"
Gaia and Lucretia both offered their apologies and explained their difficulties on the trip, while Quintus decided where to sit. Normally the seats Octavia had just given to Lucretia and Gaia would be for Titus or Quintus, but what could he do, Octavia was a Severus and what she wanted, she got.
With a sigh, Quintus offered his father the last chair next to Lucretia, but Titus waved him off stating he was fine with his seat in the second row with Vettius. Unwilling to argue point, especially since it bore outcome he desired, Batiatus sat down next to his wife with a smile on his face. If his father chose to sit in the lesser seating area, so be it.
Unaware and uncaring of the small drama she had caused, Octavia turned to the other women. "You must see the procession I have arranged for Gannicus's entrance into the arena."
"And what glorious event have you scheduled?" Gaia asked with a smile as she picked up a silver goblet and held it out for wine. "Knowing your favor for pomp and circumstance, I am certain it will something ridiculously lavish."
Octavia gave a tinkling laugh. "You do know me well," she said, her smile wide and her excitement palpable. "I wanted it to be a surprise, but I simply have to tell someone…"
She leaned over to Lucretia and Gaia and lowered her voice to a whisper as she told them of the spectacle she had put in place for Gannicus when he entered the arena.
*8*
The final two contests before the Primus were quite entertaining that day, and the crowd roared as rivers of blood pooled upon the sand. Vettius's new acquisition, a brute of a man named Caburus, put on quite the performance. He beat his opponent soundly in a quick but brutal match where, in a gruesome display, he punched his fist into his opponent's chest, ripped out the man's heart and threw the bloodied muscle into the crowd. Of course, the ghoulish maneuver caused the audience to cheer in a blood crazed frenzy for the man.
Quintus's joyous expression soured at the crowds' overwhelming applause for a man of Vettius and Tullius' stable. His father leaning over his shoulder to make mention how they favored the other gladiator did not help his disposition either.
"They'll cheer for Gannicus with louder voices," he returned, before glancing behind him to Vettius. The boy wore a smirk as he accepted the accolades from the Nobles for his man's performance. He even boasted that Caburus would be a fine match for Gannicus.
"Perhaps in the Primus on opening day of the arena," Vettius said.
Quintus wanted to smack the cocky smile from the boy's face!
After Caburus had left the arena and the body of his opponent had been carted off, the arena settled into the quiet anticipatory stage just before the final event, the one everyone was waiting for, the Primus. A moment later, the horns blared signaling the pompa for the match to begin. The guards came out waving the banners of the Host and the houses competing against one another. A set of jugglers and acrobats dressed as 'fools' followed, inciting the crowd to laugh at their antics. And next to please and woo the crowd were the dancing girls. They were dressed in scarves, each with a wreath of colorful spring flowers circling their head and a basket full in their arms. The crowd cheered as the girls' danced around the arena, their naked breasts jiggling as they tossed flowers from their baskets into the audience and onto the sand, transforming the arena floor into a bizarre paradox of beauty and macabre with all the bright, colorful flowers littered amongst the puddles of blood being absorbed into the sand.
When the show was over, Cossutius stood to give introduction.
"Good people of Capua…in honor of the Goddess Flora, The Republic, and your fair city, I present a match that will be as exciting as it is bloody. If one wishes to appease the Gods and gain their favor, one must present a God upon the sands in offering. I present two. Two titans of the arena to face each other in a sine missione, no quarter given, no mercy shown, match to the death!"
The crowd jumped to their feet in a riotous explosion of cheers and Cossutius waved an arm to the other lanista. "Lacuvius, present your man."
The tall, reed thin man in dark brown and blue robes stood and addressed the crowd. "I thank Good Cossutius for this opportunity to pay tribute. In honor of the Floralia, Cossutius, the Magistrate and you good people of Capua, who have welcomed us so warmly…May I present a man who has survived over fifty brutal contests in the arena. He is hailed from Pompei to Rome for his boundless determination as well as being well known as un-killable. I give you…Negrimus…Dimachaerus."
The man strode out on the sand and raised his mighty arms high. In each hand he held a curved siccae sword, the preferred weapon of the Thracians. He wore barbarian pants, greaves to protect his legs, a thick balteus belt and sturdy black manicae along his forearms, yet he had no shoulder or chest protection and wore no helmet. His long dark hair was pulled back from his face and worn in a braid that trailed more than half way down his back. With his lack of any kind of upper body armor, his brutal looking scars were on display…almost proudly. The man grinned at the crowd as he roared his battle cry to the heavens followed by a rich laugh that bespoke his joy at being in the arena.
From behind the 'gate of life' Gannicus was having his manicae adjusted when Oenomaus joined him.
"He sounds like you out there."
Gannicus nodded solemnly, his attention solely focused upon his match. "He is one of our kind. His heart beats to be in the arena…upon the sand."
"Did you see…? He is not fighting as Retiarius today."
Gannicus rolled his eyes. "Yes, I noticed his two swords, brother. You proved correct. It was sight I was not unhappy with. I would rather fight another Dimachaeri than a Retiarius."
Oenomaus placed his hand on Gannicus's shoulder. "Keep in mind a man who knows many styles of fighting is dangerous. Remember what Doctore used to say, if he can wield the weapons…"
"He can defend against them," Gannicus finished. "I am clear to purpose, brother."
Batiatus was beginning his announcement of Gannicus when two guards approached the gates from the tunnels leading down into the carcere. They were walking two massive lions on thick chains. Gannicus took several steps back, his eyes bulging as he took in the magnificent beasts and their full glorious manes—one black, one golden.
His gaze shot to Oenomaus and he scowled. "I fucking told you I heard lions!" he bit out gruffly. "We are not Bestiarii, Oenomaus! Why are they bringing these creatures into the arena?"
Oenomaus chuckled. "Can you not see these beasts are tamed? Note they are not chewing on their handlers."
"Then why, for the love of Jupiter's cock, are they here?"
Again, Oenomaus smirked. "They are your escort to the arena."
Gannicus's open mouthed gape was laughable. "My what?" Then, as it dawned on him who had arranged such a ridiculous spectacle, his scowl returned with a vengeance. "Fuck the Gods! Why would she do such a thing?"
"As you said…the woman likes to indulge you. She would see you take the sand amongst great fanfare."
Gannicus looked at the lions and shook his head. Fucking Octavia—she was mad! He snorted, irritation at the entire production evident. "As long as no one expects me to handle one of those fucking things…" he grumbled and went to retake his place, however he stayed a few feet further back than normal, wary of the lions before him.
Oenomaus chuckled and Gannicus rolled his eyes at his brother's teasing look. He did not have a chance to do more, because Batiatus had finished his list of Gannicus' titles and glorified achievements and was finally announcing his name as the 'gates of life' were being opened. He let the guards and the lions go first, giving them a wide berth before he sauntered out the gates to the arena floor, his laughter echoing after him.
*8*
When the lions came out, the crowd gasped and the nobles upon the pulvinus 'oohed' and 'aahed' over the display. The lions were massive, easily five hundred pounds and regal creatures. When Gannicus followed in his new armor, arms raised, swords held high, his jovial laughter ringing out and signaling his joy to be upon the sand, the arena erupted. The crowd leapt to their feet screaming his name, awed at the display of man and beast coming upon the sands together. Once again Gannicus was regaled with flowers and bawdy displays of affection from some of the more brazen women in the audience. He chuckled, grinned and pointed his swords towards the few who managed to snare his attention.
In his usual manner, he raised his arms, spinning about in a circle as he posed for his admirers. His thunderous bellow for the crowd happened to coincide with one of the lions giving voice as well and the perfect blend of man and beast roaring as one could not have been executed better had it been planned and rehearsed. The spectacle had the fans raising their voices as well in a raucous display of appreciation for the sight.
Upon the pulvinus, Octavia grinned at Gaia as she clapped for the unexpected performance from Gannicus and his beastly escort. "Did I not tell you? Magnificent!" she cooed, delighted at the spectacle.
Quintus, who was still standing after announcing Gannicus, smiled down at Octavia. "You honor us with such display."
Octavia managed to drag her gaze away from Gannicus for a moment to set attention upon Batiatus. "No. You honor my house when Gannicus represents at the Apollinares."
The guards holding the lions relaxed the chains holding the beasts and cracked the whips they held in hand, the lions immediately crouched and swiped their mighty paws at the men. Their jaws opened wide and they let loose simultaneous bellowing roars, inciting the crowd and nobles alike to gasp in awe of their ferocious appearance. They were walked in a circle around the arena to give the crowd a good view of their grandiose presence, before being led off the sand and back behind the gates.
After his escorts exited the arena, Gannicus took his place in front of the pulvinus next to Negrimus and both gladiators bowed to the nobles seated there. The Magistrate stood and once the crowd settled, he gave the order for the match to begin.
Negrimus turned to Gannicus, a grin on his bearded face. "It is a good day to die."
Gannicus laughed in response. "It is," he agreed, pointing one of his gladius swords at his opponent, "and I shall give you a glorious death, brother."
"You can try," Negrimus replied, and with a thunderous bellow, he immediately went on the attack.
Right away, it was obvious the fight would be a fast paced and entertaining test of skills and wills. Negrimus was almost as quick as Gannicus as he slashed at the blonde gladiator relentlessly, his two scimitars whistling as the curved blades were wielded with deadly purpose. The ringing of steel upon steel was loud in the arena and Gannicus paid heed to Oenomaus's words, he did not preen or jest for the crowd. Not with this man. The ease with which he attacked and defended Gannicus's blades told the tale—the man was fucking dangerous.
But then again…so was Gannicus.
The contest was a compelling one, with both men landing minor slashing blows early on. Negrimus drew first blood when, two minutes into the contest, he avoided a charge from Gannicus, spun about and landed an ugly gash along Gannicus's back, a few inches under his left shoulder blade.
Much of the crowd gasped, and upon the Pulvinus, Vettius chuckled while Batiatus grit his teeth. Octavia's brow furrowed, and her hands clenched her seat at the sight of Gannicus wounded so early in the bout. Gaia and Lucretia both noticed her worried expression and realized simultaneously that the Severus had more than lust in her heart for the blonde gladiator.
Behind Lucretia, Melitta winced at the sight of his wound. Her stomach twisted in knots and she said a quick prayer to the Gods to keep him safe.
In the arena, Gannicus roared when he felt the burning pain of Negrimus' blade tearing into his flesh and quickly returned one of his own in kind. He ducked under Negrimus's attack, spun off the stone wall of the arena and kicked the man in the chest. While Negrimus staggered backwards, he rushed forward and landed a vicious slash to the man's stomach.
"Rrrrraaaaahhhh…" he cried as blood gushed from the brutal wound.
The crowd went wild at the sight of more bloodshed, and smiles returned to many who viewed the match from the pulvinus.
Inside the arena, the deadly battle waged on. With both men fighting dimachaerus, it was constant motion. Back and forth, they would attack and defend, their laughter ringing out at times and giving proof to the delight both gladiators felt at being in the arena. About twenty minutes into the fight, Gannicus got a second wind and went on the offensive. He hacked and sliced at Negrimus with both swords swinging in a barrage of deadly attacks that landed several cutting blows to the other man, yet Negrimus would just shrug off the injuries and come back for more. On and on, the two gladiators attacked and defended, the clash of steel a constant during the match, neither opponent yielding an inch.
At the forty-minute mark, the magistrate announced to the spectators on the pulvinus that the match would officially be declared the longest recorded match in Capua's history. By this time, Gannicus' swords had reaped considerable injury upon his opponent. There was a terrible gash to the right side of the Negrimus' face, and the man's chest, back and arms dripped blood from about ten different wounds. Negrimus had more than a few wounds that appeared lethal, and yet, the man kept coming. Gannicus was becoming frustrated at his opponent's ability to withstand such severe damage and, for the first time in his life, the blonde gladiator was becoming tired in a contest. He bore injuries himself as well. Negrimus had landed an ugly gash across his left pectoral and another just under it, both of which were nasty looking and would require stitching. There was also a long, thin slice to his belly, but that one, while painful, was not dangerous. The one upon his back still burned fiercely, but it was his arms that worried him most.
Wielding two blades constantly was strenuous, and Gannicus was becoming fatigued. This was the longest he had ever fought—much less without path to victory in sight. Negrimus, on the other hand, seemed to have boundless energy, despite the ghastly wounds he sported. The man was weeping blood everywhere, yet the fucking animal would not go down. Gannicus was starting to understand why they called the fucker un-killable!
Another ten minutes into the battle saw Negrimus again seeking to end the contest by aggressively charging Gannicus in a ruthless onslaught aimed to leave the blonde gladiator headless upon the sands. Gannicus valiantly fought the man back, ducking and weaving Negrimus' scimitars, while his own blades slashed and defended against the vicious assault. However, his defenses were getting slower, his arms so heavy they felt as if made entirely of stone. At one point, he almost paid dearly for his weariness when Negrimus managed to slip under his defenses, and with a snarl, brought his sword down in a blow that would have taken Gannicus's arm off had the blonde gladiator not turned at the last second and Negrimus' blade found Gannicus' right arm and his galerus, instead of the blonde gladiator's bare and unprotected left arm. Thankfully, the armor absorbed most of the damage, saving Gannicus' arm, but the blow still managed to cut into his bicep, making his right arm go totally numb for a moment.
With sheer determination, Gannicus held on to his swords; he would not lose this contest.
Minutes later, when Negrimus's advance started to wane, Gannicus ignored the pain in his shoulders and arms and initiated his own offensive attack once again. Digging deep, he called forth every ounce of strength he possessed and charged his opponent, hacking at him, his swords slicing through the air with ruthless efficiency as he drove Negrimus back upon the sand, until the other man was near the bloodied wall of the arena. Using his superior acrobatic skills and a short burst of pure adrenaline-fueled determination, he ran up the wall and used the platform (where people were standing watching the games) to spring off. He did a 360-spin mid-air and landed on his feet behind the bigger man. With a mighty roar, he brought both his blades down in a slashing motion, opening a ghastly crisscross wound to Negrimus's upper back, just under the man's neck.
The crowd exploded as Negrimus suddenly fell to the earth like a sack of stone. Cheers of Gannicus's name filled the air along with "Iugula" (kill him).
With his swords clenched in hand, Gannicus stalked across the bloodied sand to stand over his opponent, chest heaving and utterly winded. Ever cautious, Gannicus kicked the man's dual scimitars away first and then delivered another devastating blow by stabbing Negrimus in the lower back with his sword. He had expected the man to at least try and roll out of the way or even attempt to rise to his feet again, however, it soon became apparent Negrimus could not rise. In fact, he could not move at all. Gannicus realized he must have severed the man's spine with the dual blows under his neck. Seeing the end now, Gannicus rolled Negrimus' mangled body over with his foot, turning the man on to his back. He stepped over his fallen foe, his feet on either side of his chest and his two swords at the man's throat.
This was a sine missione match—there would be no missio awarded, so Gannicus did not bother to glance up to the pulvinus to see what the decree would be. Death was Negrimus's only fate this day.
A fate the man seemed to embrace as he grinned up at Gannicus with bloodied teeth, his facial muscles all that still worked in his broken body. "Good fight," the man said, coughing and spitting up blood along with a white frothy substance that signaled death. Faced with defeat and his final battle, Negrimus showed his true mettle when he said, "I am honored to lose to you… Gannicus, God of the Arena." And then he laughed outright and said, "I am ready. Send me to the after-life, brother."
Proud to be the one to grant this warrior his glorious death, Gannicus nodded. "And it shall welcome you with open arms and great regard, brother," he replied. And then with a cry of victory, he brought his dual blades slashing across Negrimus's throat, decapitating the man and giving him what all gladiator's want—a celebrated end upon the sands.
Upon the pulvinus Quintus leaped to his feet and cheered raucously. "Yes!" he screamed raising his fists in victory. He turned to the other spectators in the pulvinus, "Has there ever been such a historical fucking battle?!" he crowed. "Once again, the Mighty Gannicus proves himself a fucking Titan!"
He glanced around, realized everyone was staring and quickly resumed his seat. "Apologies," he said in a more sedate voice, yet his smile was still wide and cheeky.
"None required," Octavia piped up. "You speak upon my very thoughts. That was a heroic battle if ever there was one."
Cossutius and Varis both agreed. It had indeed been an epic showing and all the nobles present were applauding not only Gannicus's performance, but Negrimus's as well. The fight had been a long and bloody one, earning both gladiators' fame and recognition, along with a place in history. The magistrate announced the official time of the match: fifty-six-minutes, seventeen minutes longer than the previous record of thirty-nine.
Cossutius looked to Quintus, congratulating Batiatus on securing a place in the record books. "After such a marvelous display, I know the Gods will be pleased…as am I. Gannicus is truly a sensation, Batiatus."
In the arena, Gannicus held Negrimus's head up to his audience for viewing. The gladiator still somehow appeared to be smiling. "He fought well and deserves to be honored," Gannicus yelled, therefore, he did not throw it to the crowd this time, instead he went to stand before the pulvinus and set the Negrimus' head on the sand before his lanista. He nodded at the man and to the other nobles. His eyes caught Melitta's for a moment, but his attention did not linger. She was a distraction he could not indulge. His audience awaited.
He turned back to the crowd and raised his arms in victory. "Rrrhhaaaaa!" he yelled, the thrill of defeating a gladiator with the skill Negrimus had possessed made his blood race, even after the battle was over.
The spectators went crazy at his show of honoring a fallen brother as well as the gruesome way he killed the man.
Octavia turned to Quintus and smiled. "Your words regarding Gannicus' ability to charm the masses ring true, Batiatus. Handing the man's head to his lanista was a brilliant ending to an extraordinary contest."
Quintus nodded, grinning. "Gannicus is a God among men…a true champion for the House of Batiatus." He turned in his chair to his father when he said that, as if daring the older man to continue to deny Gannicus's worth after a showing such as this one.
Fanning himself to alleviate the heat, Titus nodded. "I will submit to your estimation of the man, Quintus. His performance today was indeed an epic show of bravery and determination upon the sands," he agreed gruffly, before coughing into the ever-present handkerchief he now carried.
"One worthy of having him carved in stone and set amongst your champions."
Titus hedged at that. "We shall see," was all he said, and Quintus's face turned bitter.
He glanced to Lucretia and rolled his eyes as if to say, 'see he'll never approve'.
*8*
After much posing and posturing for his fans, Gannicus finally made his way back through the gates to the holding area under the arena where the gladiators were kept.
Oenomaus was waiting for him, a broad smile upon his face. "You fought as the lion I deemed you, brother. Your historic contest has proven to all who bore witness why they call you 'The God of the Arena'."
"Historic?" Gannicus inquired. Being in the arena, he had not heard the magistrate announce the time earlier.
"Yes, historic. Your match has been recorded as the longest in Capua's history. You fought to the fifty-six-minute mark, Gannicus. A legendary show of skill and stamina for both you and your opponent."
Gannicus handed his swords to the guard. He was utterly exhausted but hearing his bout had achieved such status made him smile. "It felt like fucking forever," he said, with a weary sigh. "Like mighty tree, he refused to fall, despite my swords leaving a trail of fucking bloody wounds everywhere." He leaned against the side of one of the empty cages and drew in several long, deep breaths. Oenomaus handed him a cup of water, which Gannicus accepted gratefully. He took a long drink and sighed, relieved to be able to rest. He was ready to pass out, his expression and demeanor fatigued as he said to Oenomaus, "For a moment there, I was beginning to fear the man would never die. I see why they called him un-killable."
Oenomaus clapped Gannicus on the shoulder. "And yet, you managed to kill the un-killable one. Quite a feat. This victory will bring highest praise to both yourself and the ludus."
Gannicus nodded. "I am to fight in Rome next," he said softly. "Let us hope they feel the same."
"You are nervous about your match?"
"No. It is…the Circus Maximus, Oenomaus. A hundred thousand people will be there. I have never had contest before a crowd so large. What if they do not cheer for me as they do here in Capua?"
The older man shook his head at his friend's worries. "Ease mind. Once news of your epic victory today reaches other cities…your legend will grow as will the public's interest. Citizens of Rome will clamor for you just as your public here in Capua does. Believe me."
"You fought there when you faced Theocoles. Was it a boon or distraction to have so many in attendance?"
They started to head back to the rooms where the medicus was located since Gannicus needed stitching for most of his wounds. Oenomaus shrugged as he contemplated how to answer. "At first," he said carefully, "it was a distraction, but that is because I was facing 'The Shadow of Death' and the entire arena thought I would die a quick and brutal death." He grinned, because they both knew that had not happened. "However, as the battle went on…they started to cheer for me and it lifted heart to hear the many voices shouting my name."
"It gave you the will to keep fighting?"
Oenomaus nodded. "To a point, I suppose it did. And it was the crowd that called for me to be spared when Theocoles finally did best me in battle." They paused outside the medicus's chamber. "You can win over the spectators', Gannicus. Banish worries from mind. You will be victorious and the honor you gain from fighting in The Apollinares will see your fame soar to the heavens, possibly even to freedom."
"Freedom?" Gannicus asked, raising a brow. Of course, he had heard of such a thing, yet Gannicus had never bore witness to it, so it seemed foreign to him.
"Yes, freedom, by way of the crowd demanding it for a good showing." Oenomaus sighed. "I could have received the rudis if I had bested Theocoles, instead the crowd demanded I be spared, rather than die upon the sands."
Intrigued with the idea of achieving his freedom, Gannicus made a note to have further words with Oenomaus regarding subject when they had more time to discuss and when he was not ready to fall to the floor in exhaustion. "Gratitude, brother," he replied, taking hold of Oenomaus's arm in salute.
Oenomaus returned the hold. "None required." He inclined his head towards the man waiting for Gannicus to be brought in. "See yourself mended. We leave for the ludus within the hour."
Gannicus nodded, but he knew he would not be going to the ludus. No. He would be transported to Octavia's. He was fucking tired. The length of his match unheard of, it was as if he had fought three matches in one battle. Surely, she would not expect him to perform sexually for the rest of the fucking night as well! He passed a couple of men still recuperating on the long tables the medicus used to mend the gladiators and took a seat upon the only available table left in the chamber.
"Epic fucking battle, Champion," the medicus said, as he cleaned Gannicus' wounds.
"Gratitude," Gannicus said. "The man was fucking difficult to kill."
"As were you," the man replied with a grin.
Gannicus chuckled. "Apparently so," he said, gritting his teeth against the pain as the man's needle entered his flesh and began to stitch him up.
Gannicus closed his eyes with a sigh. Hopefully Octavia would at least allow him a small respite and give him more than a mere hours' worth of sleep this time.
*8*
Tullius was frustrated beyond imagining. For years, when he wanted something, it was made available. Not this time. Quintus Batiatus had refused him what he desired and now Gannicus was proving to be a worthier champion than even he had suspected. His contest today showcased his superior skills and placed the man in the history books. Tullius was furious that the lanista of record for owning the magnificent gladiator would be Batiatus and not himself. Gannicus should have been his for this fucking event! All his machinations had been commencing according to plan after the Vinalia. Titus had been eager to return to favored position and, despite asking for more time to give decision, Tullius had believed an agreement with the elder Batiatus was imminent; he would finally have the blonde gladiator for his own. And then, the old man had taken ill, fucking Quintus had refused him entrance to the villa, and all talks regarding Gannicus had ceased.
When he received missive from Titus requesting a meeting, Tullius had accepted, believing he would finally broker deal to attain Gannicus for his own. Except, when he had arrived at Batiatus' villa, the old man had been asleep, unable to wake. Tullius took it as a personal snub and was beyond enraged at being treated in such a manner. However, today, Titus had delivered Gannicus to the arena minus Batiatus. The man had offered humble apologies and Tullius had been of a mind to accept the man's attempt. In fact, he had taken advantage of Titus' desire to make amends and had broken words regarding the secret predilections of his champion's sponsor. Whispering in the old man's ear how Octavia's reputation for fucking gladiators was nearly as legendary as her brother's exploits on the battlefield; stirring the elder Batiatus' outdated sense of propriety with every suggestive remark. And just when Titus had heard enough innuendo to cause mind to snap, Tullius had mentioned he knew several women of the patrician class who would pay handsomely to fuck the virile Champion of Capua, now that the House of Batiatus was renting out his cock! As expected, Titus had erupted, making his way to the carcere under the arena to confront his gladiator. Tullius had not had a chance to have further words with Titus, but he had planted the seed of distrust, he would see it grow and bear fruit in the form of using Titus' loathing for impropriety as a means of attaining Gannicus for his own stable.
*8*
Quintus Batiatus was a happy man. He was finally receiving the recognition he had always dreamed of and he relished the favor being laid upon him through Gannicus. Cossutius had personally invited him and his party to the celebration banquet—this time there had not been the needed suggestion from Gaia. Gannicus was Capua's adored Champion and with that title came unprecedented prestige to the House of Batiatus. His father could no longer deny Quintus had carried on the Batiatus name and ludus with anything other than resounding success.
Not even his father's continued withholding of true praise could dim the satisfaction he felt. And when he saw Octavia approaching, his smile only grew. She was the other avenue to seeing his house rise well above what his fucking father insisted was their station. With Octavia's backing, Quintus could see himself being the lanista to Senators—possibly even holding some form of political office himself someday!
"Batiatus," she said in greeting. "I would have words."
Quintus opened mouth to reply, yet Titus stepped forward in his stead, leaving Quintus to frown behind him.
Octavia paused in surprise, before she smiled charmingly at the elder Batiatus. "I fear you mistake intent, I was speaking to Quintus."
"Do you wish to have words regarding Gannicus?" Titus asked.
Octavia's brow rose. "And if I do?"
"Then words should be broken with me. I am his Dominus."
The man had a stubborn tilt to his chin that Octavia did not appreciate. "Yet it was your son who brokered arrangement and secured my coin and favor. Was it not?"
Cossutius and Varis turned their heads at her tone, openly watching the exchange. Discouraged at her public reproach, Titus bowed his head in deference to her wishes and social standing. "Apologies. You have established rapport with my son. I suppose I shall have to leave discussion in his hands then."
"Accepted, though not required," she said graciously. Octavia noted the man's sour expression but felt no inclination to soothe his ire. "Your son is quite the lanista, Titus, one who would do well even without constant shadow." It was said sweetly, but the implication was plain and cold. Titus was not welcome in her dealings with the House of Batiatus.
The elder Batiatus glared at his son for a moment before he again offered apologies and excused himself.
Quintus nearly chortled with glee.
Gaia did. "Bless you, Octavia," she said with a laugh. "I have waited for what seems an eternity to see that withered old fuck put in proper place!"
Lucretia was the only one of them who looked nervous. Titus would be furious with Quintus, and while Octavia offered coin—Titus was the paterfamilias. One word from his tongue could see them set upon the streets. The idea of setting her permanent solution for the man into motion was becoming the more viable option daily. If he threatened their home, she would have no choice but to return his threat in kind.