Chapter IX: Lentulus

Ludus Magnus gladiator school, 56 BC

Romulus did not feel safe climbing into his cot with Lentulus only a few feet away, but he had nowhere else to go. The ludus was full of tough men, none of whom had offered him shelter after the fight. Not even Cotta.

He cursed.

Memor was probably hoping the argument would be settled that night with a quiet knife between the ribs for one of them. It was not how Romulus wished to finish the quarrel, but the Goth could not be trusted. Unsure what to do, he lingered in the starlit yard long after other fighters had returned to their cells. The spot where Flavus had died was still obvious, marked by several dark stains on the sand. Romulus shuddered. It had been so easy to stab the murmillo, but the enormity of the killing was beginning to sink in.

He was truly a gladiator now.

'First time?'

Romulus turned with a start to see Brennus peering round his door.

'Yes.' He paused before the words came in a rush. 'I gave Flavus a chance. Told him to release Astoria, but he didn't think I was serious.'

'The prick deserved to die. Unlike many you'll meet. You do have to kill them though, or you'll end up dead.'

Romulus eyed the largest bloodstain, imagining lying injured on the sand. Flavus' life had bled away in a few agonising moments. Regret surged through his veins. The murmillo had not done anything to him directly. Then he remembered Flavus' offer to the other gladiators.

'They wanted to rape Astoria,' he muttered.

The Gaul frowned. 'Is that why you stabbed him?'

'Partly.' Guilt mixed with anger in the young man's face. I should have told Brennus before all this, he thought.

Brennus looked confused so he explained about Lentulus' boasts.

The big fighter was visibly pleased. 'No one else tried to help, did they?'

Romulus shook his head. 'I wish it had been Gemellus, though.'

'Who?'

'The merchant who sold me. Bastard also sold my sister to a whorehouse. Gods alone know what he 's done to Mother.'

Brennus' eyes darkened with old memories. 'Life can be bloody hard.' He stuck out a massive paw. 'I'm glad you finished Flavus off.'

Romulus took the grip. 'There 's just Lentulus to deal with now.'

'Nothing to worry about,' Brennus said conspiratorially. 'Romulus, isn't it?'

'Yes.'

'Good name.'

'Does killing get any easier?' Romulus spoke with a little awe.

'In some ways.' Brennus laughed hollowly. 'I try not to worry about it any more. Fight. Kill fast. Get it over with.'

Romulus found himself liking the Gaul, but he detected real sadness in his voice. Despite his fearsome reputation, Brennus seemed to be an honourable man.

'Need somewhere to sleep?'

He nodded.

'I wouldn't want to close my eyes with that little bastard near me either.' Brennus indicated that Romulus should enter his cell. 'Sleep on the floor in here. It's far from comfortable, but nobody will slit your throat.'

Romulus studied the darkened yard uneasily. He wasn't sure what to do.

'It's the least I can do.' Brennus beckoned. 'You helped save my woman.'

Romulus had no real option apart from returning to his own bed. He shrugged and walked curiously into Brennus' quarters. The floor was clear of bodies; the murmillones had been dragged off to the mortuary like so much meat. Astoria was busy with a bucket of water and a cloth, but there was still the occasional splash of blood.

The room was plain, holding little furniture. A decent-sized bed sat at one end, a couple of wool rugs scattered nearby. Bread and meat lay unfinished on a battered wooden table. Two racks at the foot of the cot held more weapons than he thought one man could own. Shields and spears were stacked untidily against the walls and other pieces of equipment filled any remaining spaces. It was the living space of a champion gladiator.

As he entered, Astoria beamed at him. 'Thank you again, Romulus.'

'It was nothing.' Romulus bobbed his head, embarrassed.

'It was more than that. The man had a knife at my throat.'

Romulus grinned, remembering the magnificent sight of Astoria's naked body as much as Flavus' blade.

'It was well done.' Brennus waved a bandaged hand at the thickest carpet. 'Take a seat. We can fix up something more permanent later. I don't think you'll be rushing back to a cell with any other fighters for a while.'

Astoria handed him a piece of bread and a thick slice of beef. Brennus moved to a whetstone in one corner, sharpening a longsword with practised strokes.

Romulus watched. Few other gladiators in the ludus used a similar one. 'Why do you use that?'

'It's the blade of my own people.' Brennus proudly raised the long piece of iron. 'And there's no better weapon in the world!' He pointed it at Romulus. 'More reach than those little knives you Romans use. Of course it needs strength to wield properly.'

Romulus stared at the floor, flushing. He was not yet big enough to fight with the sword.

'You haven't fought for real yet, have you?'

'No.'

'I've seen you practising at the palus. Not bad.'

Romulus swelled with pride that Brennus had noticed him.

The Gaul's voice hardened. 'But Lentulus will slice you up if you're not careful.'

'So what must I do?' He was all ears.

'I've seen him fight before. That Goth's cocky,' warned Brennus. 'He 'll rush you. Try and get in a killer blow with brute strength. You'll have to hold the bastard off long enough to injure him.' He squinted along the blade 's edge, looking for imperfections. 'Then Lentulus will give you space.

Time to think.'

Romulus chewed thoughtfully on the meat and bread. Cotta was a good teacher, but some in the ludus said that he taught old, outdated techniques.

While Brennus' size and strength were huge factors in his fighting ability, the Gaul was also expert with weapons. He might learn something that would save his life the next day.

'Keep that pig sticker in your belt. Come in useful if things get up close and nasty.' Brennus mimed a stabbing action. 'You knew to hit Flavus where it hurt.'

'Cotta showed me that.'

'A good man, that Libyan. Remember what he taught you. It's all about not forgetting the basics.'

'The basics?'

'Shield up. Thrust forward. Step back.' Brennus grinned. 'I still remember that every time I fight.'

'But I've seen you turn and slash at an opponent before.'

'Only when I know how he moves.' Brennus tapped his head. 'And thinks. Takes a while to get the measure of an enemy. Until you do, play it safe.'

'I will, Brennus.'

Romulus listened for a long time as the Gaul expounded on fighting technique and showed him new moves. Watching him wield a sword was awe-inspiring.

'In the arena, you're supposed to fight according to the gladiator code.' He stared hard at Romulus. 'That's what Cotta says, right?'

The young fighter nodded.

'Fine if you're talking about an ordinary points contest. But when it's to the death. ' Brennus paused. 'Do whatever it takes.'

'What do you mean?'

'Kick sand in his face.' The Gaul scuffed a heavy sandal along the floor. 'Headbutt him with the edge of your helmet.'

Romulus' mouth fell open.

'Kick him in the balls if you can.'

'That's not fair.'

Brennus looked at Romulus shrewdly. 'Do you think Lentulus will hang back if you fall on the sand?'

He shook his head.

'Fighting in the arena is not about what is fair or unfair,' said the Gaul regretfully. 'It is about one thing only. Survival. Your life — or his!'

Kill or be killed. It was a stark choice.

'It's time Romulus slept,' Astoria broke in. 'Otherwise he 'll be too tired to fight that son of a whore.'

'Always take note of what your woman says.' He kissed Astoria's cheek.

'When do you ever listen to me?' she replied, stroking Brennus' arm.

Romulus was glad to lie back on the carpet, covered by a woollen blanket. The others soon retired to the bed alongside, the Gaul instantly starting to snore. In normal circumstances the noise would have kept Romulus awake for hours, but the nervous tension had drained away, leaving only exhaustion. He closed his eyes and let a dreamless sleep take hold.

In the morning, the gods would decide whether he or Lentulus would die.

Brennus woke Romulus well before dawn. It was still dark outside but Astoria was coaxing the fire in a small brazier.

'It's important to stretch the muscles before a fight.' Brennus led him in a series of exercises for some time before he was satisfied.

Astoria watched them loosen up. When they had finished, she gestured to bowls of steaming porridge. 'Sit down and eat.'

'Thank you, but I'm not hungry.'

'Eat. Even if it's only a few mouthfuls.'

'I'd be sick.'

'There's more than an hour till dawn and you'll be hungry by then.' Brennus sat down and launched into the huge portion that Astoria put in front of him. 'It's not good to fight on an empty stomach either.'

Romulus forced himself to eat the cooked oats. To his surprise, they tasted much better than the slop from the ludus kitchens.

'There's honey in it.' Astoria had seen his expression.

There was silence as they ate.

Wiping his mouth, the Gaul walked to the weapon racks and selected a short stabbing sword. 'Try this for size,' he said. 'A little small for me, but should do you well.'

Romulus took the gladius, admiring the simple wire design of the hilt and lethal edge on the straight blade. He held it loosely, gauging the balance. 'Feels good.'

'Take this too.' Brennus proffered a handsome round shield covered in dark red leather.

Romulus slipped his left arm into the grips and dropped into a crouch, peering over the iron rim, sword ready. 'These are far better quality than those Cotta lets me use.'

'I paid good money for them. Quality weaponry doesn't let you down.'

'Feels heavier than I expected.'

Brennus flashed a smile. 'Look at the bottom.'

Romulus lifted the shield. 'The metal's sharp as a blade!'

'You can slice a man's arm or leg with it. Or smash open his helmet. Like I did with Narcissus yesterday.'

The story of that fight had already been round the ludus, increasing the Gaul's stature even more. Many now said there wasn't a gladiator in Italy who could beat Brennus.

'The fool might still be alive if he hadn't tried to stab me at the end,' the big man said sadly.

'And if I hadn't killed Flavus, Astoria would have died.'

'There is no mercy in the ludus,' agreed Brennus. 'So always have a little surprise ready. And never presume the fight's over until you've cut a man's throat. Or Charon cracks his skull open.'

'I will kill Lentulus.' Romulus was surprised how steady his voice was.

Brennus clapped him on the shoulder. 'What about your manicae and greaves? They'll still be in your cell.'

'No. I can move faster without them.'

Respect flared in Brennus' eyes. 'I knew a man like that once,' he said softly.

Beams of sunlight began to creep through the window, illuminating the floor.

'Let's head outside. Nearly time.'

'May the gods protect you, Romulus,' Astoria blurted.

The Gaul led the way, with Romulus one step behind. The yard was already full of gladiators and a collective sigh went up as the pair emerged into the cool morning air.

Brennus turned quickly. 'Ignore anything they say,' he whispered in Romulus' ear. 'Some will be trying to scare you, others baiting you to get a response. Stay focused. Think only of Lentulus and the fight.'

The combat would take place in the area reserved for training with real weapons. As they walked, Romulus fixed his gaze on Brennus' broad shoulders. Plenty of derogatory comments were hurled.

'Lentulus will gut you like a fish!'

'Time to fight a man fairly — instead of stabbing him in the back.'

'Murderous little bastard!'

A murmillo who had been friends with Flavus spat on the ground directly in front. His hand was ready on the hilt of a curved knife. It seemed the man might do more but Sextus stepped forward, axe raised.

'Leave him be. You'll soon see whether Lentulus can extract revenge for the killing.'

Cowed by the scissores and his double-headed weapon, the murmillo moved back.

It was hard not to feel scared under the baleful glares of so many adult men. Romulus forced himself to inhale slowly, taking the breaths deep into his chest. It was a technique that Juba had taught him. He let the air out gradually and the effect was immediate. Romulus reached the square feeling calmer, following Brennus as he shoved past gladiators pressed up against the ropes. Everyone was eager to witness the duel.

A few fighters muttered encouragement and Romulus' spirits rose. Lentulus was not popular.

His opponent was already in the opposite corner, loosening muscular shoulders. 'I'm going to cut you up. Son of a whore,' he snarled.

Romulus ignored the Goth and continued to breathe deeply. Brennus lifted the rope for him to duck under.

'Let's stop pissing about! The rest of us have important training to do.' Memor stalked into the centre of the freshly raked sand and glared at both young fighters. His archers were ranged close behind, arrows notched in their drawn bows. Sextus moved to stand near the lanista, his axe at the ready. Sunlight glinted off razor-sharp metal. Romulus wondered with a thrill of dread what purpose Memor might have in mind for the scissores.

'No helmets. I want this over quickly.'

'I've no need.' Romulus smiled at the Goth, who had crammed on as much protection as possible.

Reluctantly Lentulus obeyed, but his right arm was still covered with manicae. Bronze greaves were strapped to the Goth's lower legs and his scutum was larger than that usually carried by secutores. In contrast, Romulus bore only Brennus' shield for defence.

'Remember what I said,' the Gaul muttered. 'Hold him off for a while. Then do what you have to.'

Romulus had just enough time to nod before the lanista looked at both. 'Begin!' Memor quickly stepped away to safety.

Just as Brennus had predicted, Lentulus rushed forward. Romulus raised his shield, moving out to avoid being caught on the ropes. But the Goth didn't attack with his sword. Instead he rammed the big scutum straight into Romulus' chest. The impact knocked him back on to the hot sand. Air rushed from his lungs. Desperately he swung at the secutor's legs, but the blade swept harmlessly off the greaves.

Lentulus stamped the gladius from Romulus' hand, crouching low. 'Stopped me fucking that Nubian bitch.' His eyes were merciless dark pits. 'So now I'm going to gut you.'

'You couldn't have got it up anyway.' Romulus felt for the hilt of his dagger and pulled it free. He would have only one chance.

His enemy drew back to thrust downwards and Romulus acted fast. He lifted the knife and stabbed it into the Goth's foot with all his might, pinning the leather sandal to the ground. Lentulus roared in agony, allowing him to get up safely. The shield was still on his arm, but Brennus' sword lay very close to the secutor.

Lentulus had fallen to one knee, still screaming in pain. Romulus paused, wondering what to do. Eventually the Goth dragged the blade free with a groan and hurled it outside the ropes. He stood with difficulty, the wound bleeding freely.

'You have no gladius. No dagger.' Lentulus raised his weapon, moving towards Romulus more cautiously. With each step, a trail of blood stained the sand.

Romulus eyed his sword, knowing he'd have to recover it as fast as possible. Otherwise there would be no chance of killing Lentulus.

For a short time, the pair circled each other, loud jeers egging them on.

Memor glowered from the side, irritated. Whatever happened, he would lose a gladiator who had cost good money. Brennus watched intently, his jaw clenched.

The Goth was now wary of attacking. Romulus was waiting for a chance to retrieve the gladius, but every time he edged towards it, Lentulus stepped in the way.

'Finish it!' Memor was losing patience. 'Or I'll send in Sextus.'

The little scissores grinned, lifting his axe.

Lentulus' face hardened and he advanced purposefully. The Spaniard would attack the weaker fighter in the ring. He had to kill fast.

Unsure what to do next, Romulus risked a quick glance at Brennus. The Gaul mimed a movement of his shield arm and he remembered. The young man let Lentulus come closer, bracing himself for the barrage of blows.

'I'll break both arms and both legs,' Lentulus panted, 'before I slice open your belly.'

'How's the foot? Looks painful.'

The Goth hammered his sword towards Romulus' head. The parry was difficult, his arm shaking under the force of the blow. But Brennus' shield held firm. He shuffled back a step, instinctively making Lentulus use the injured foot. The secutor cursed and stepped after him, taking a wild sideways slash. Again Romulus held it off, the impact almost numbing his arm.

Abruptly Lentulus changed tactics, stabbing straight at his chest. Romulus had just enough time to deflect the thrust. The wily Goth followed through with a huge shove, knocking him to the ground for the second time. Desperate to finish the fight, Lentulus swung his blade in the air.

Romulus did the only thing he could. He thumped a fist down on the Goth's wounded foot. It wasn't a very hard blow, but it didn't have to be. Lentulus screamed in agony, unable to deliver the coup de grace. Romulus rolled away and stood up, panting.

Tears ran down Lentulus' face as he swayed in front of Romulus. Time was of the essence. He seized the opportunity and ran straight at the Goth, shield raised as if shoulder-charging.

Lentulus braced himself.

At the last moment, Romulus swept the sharpened edge down in a scything blow with all his momentum. It took off all five toes on Lentulus' right foot.

The Goth shrieked in agony. Blood spurted on to the sand.

Romulus ran to pick up his gladius while Lentulus slumped to one knee, gripping his foot in a futile effort to stop the bleeding. He seemed dazed, staring fixedly at the neat stumps in front of him. The spectators, who had remained silent for some time, began to chant.

'Rom-ulus! Rom-ulus!'

He touched the point of his sword to Lentulus' chin. 'Why did you get involved with those murmillones?' he said. Although Romulus didn't like the Goth, it seemed brutal the quarrel should end like this. But Memor had decreed one of them should die, and it was not going to be him.

Lentulus let go of his foot. Fresh blood poured from the gaping wounds. If the surgeon didn't attend to him shortly, the Goth would collapse from shock. 'I cannot stand.' His voice was taut with pain. 'And I'll never be able to fight again.'

'Finish him!' Romulus heard Sextus yell. The cry was taken up by all.

Except Brennus, whose face was proud but sad. Romulus is like Brac, he thought. A natural. And he doesn't want to kill an unarmed man. Brac wouldn't have either. The Gaul closed his eyes.

The lanista would allow only one outcome.

Noise filled the enclosed yard, recreating the arena's claustrophobic atmosphere.

Romulus saw Memor nod.

It was time.

Heart pounding, adrenalin coursing through every vein, the young man moved closer. Against the odds, he had won a gladiator battle. Romulus did not want to execute Lentulus, but Brennus' advice echoed in his mind. Kill or be killed.

Still he held back, oblivious to the fighters' roars.

As if in a dream, he saw the Goth lunge clumsily at him with a short blade that he 'd concealed under the leather manicae. Romulus was too close to stop the thrust, but managed to deflect it from the groin artery with Brennus' shield.

The action saved his life.

Romulus staggered back, vision blurring, the dagger buried deep in his right thigh. Teeth bared, the secutor tried to knock him over, get close enough to finish the job.

It would only be a few moments before shock took over. Slamming the scutum downwards, he caught Lentulus' wrist with the sharp edge, drawing blood. The Goth cursed and pulled away.

Romulus waited no longer. He leaned forward and stabbed in one side of Lentulus' throat and out the other, severing the major vessels. Bright red blood gushed over his arm in a warm spray.

Lentulus gurgled as the back of his mouth and throat filled with fluid. Clawing uselessly at the iron, he stared into Romulus' eyes. The Goth seemed more startled than anything. He tried to speak, but could not.

Anguish filled the boy.

'Rom-ulus! Rom-ulus!' He was aware that the chanting had grown louder. Kill or be killed, he thought grimly, twisting the gladius as he pulled it free. Lentulus fell face forwards into the sand with a soft thump and did not move again.

The pain was suddenly overwhelming. Romulus staggered, staring at the hilt protruding from his leg. Dropping both sword and shield, he reached towards it.

'Stop!' Brennus was at his side.

Romulus toppled back into the Gaul's arms. Gently the huge gladiator lowered him to the ground.

'I let my concentration slip,' he said, voice tailing away as shock began to set in.

'Get the surgeon!'

The words came as if through a fog. Head swimming, Romulus could no longer focus. Pain surged upwards from his thigh, radiating in agonising waves. It took superhuman effort not to scream. 'Am I going to die?'

'You'll be fine.' Brennus took his hand in a grip of iron. 'Well done, lad.'

Romulus' last memory was hearing his friend roaring again for the Greek surgeon.

When Romulus' eyes opened, the first thing he saw was Astoria's voluptuous figure, bent over the brazier. A rich, aromatic smell reached his nostrils and he stirred restlessly under his blankets.

'I'm hungry.' He managed to sit up on one elbow. 'What time is it?'

'Past noon. the following day. You've slept for almost a day and a half,' Astoria replied. 'How do you feel?'

'I'm alive.' Romulus moved a hand down to his right thigh, finding a heavy bandage. He grimaced. 'My leg aches.'

'It was a deep wound. The Greek gave you mandrake to kill the pain.' Astoria came over to the makeshift bed, a bowl in her hands. 'Time for some more.'

He sipped a little, instantly screwing up his face. 'Tastes awful.'

'It will hurt less afterwards. Drink.'

Romulus drained the bitter liquid obediently. He was too weak to do anything else.

'Now lie back and rest.'

'How bad was it?'

'Lentulus missed the artery by a whisker. The gods were looking after you.' She smiled. 'Dionysus cauterised the bleeding and stitched the muscle.'

'When can I start training again?'

Astoria rolled her eyes.

Romulus tried to speak again, but his tongue already felt thick and useless. The mandrake was starting to take effect.

'In about ten days.' Brennus came stamping into the room, torso covered in sweat. 'Light exercise only!'

Romulus felt his eyelids grow heavy. A few moments later he was asleep.

'Can't leave him in the hospital, that's certain,' said Brennus. 'Figulus or one of the others would cut his throat.'

'Good. You need a friend to watch your back.'

The Gaul sighed. It had been years since he trusted anyone. But Romulus reminded him strongly of Brac. Grief welled up at the memory, which was still raw.

'You haven't got eyes in the back of your head,' she scolded. 'Neither can you kill ten men at once.'

Brennus' face darkened as he pictured the village in flames. Brac's death. Capture. I killed more than ten legionaries that day. Wasn't enough. 'Be good to have someone reliable around,' he mused.

'You said before that Romulus is a good fighter.'

Brennus rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 'And it wasn't universally popular to kill the murmillones.'

'Figulus and Gallus have been talking to many of the others.' The Nubian looked uneasy. 'They're probably planning to kill you, my love.'

'Nobody in the ludus would dare touch me.' Trying to conceal his worries, Brennus patted her arm.

'No one alone — but working together?' she replied. 'You could be in danger!'

'I know,' the Gaul finally admitted. 'And Romulus seems like a good man. Let's take care of him till he can walk, anyway.'

Relieved, Astoria kissed him.

'Then we'll see if Romulus wants to fight with Brennus.'

The pair were as good as their word. Over the next ten days, Romulus was looked after better than he had been since he was a small child. By the third day, the young fighter was able to swing both legs out of the bed and stand unaided. Two days after that, he was taking short walks outside using a crutch that Brennus had fashioned. The Gaul stood by, encouraging him.

'Don't seem too happy.' Romulus indicated Figulus and Gallus, gazing sourly from the other side of the yard.

Brennus spat in their direction. 'So?'

Romulus did not answer straight away.

The two fighters were fearsome enemies. Figulus was an ox of a man, a veteran Thracian with more than ten single combat victories under his broad leather belt. Gallus was short and stocky with a bad limp, but his skill with net and trident was well known in the ludus.

'Have to kill both of them too,' Romulus said with as much bravado as he could muster.

'Fighting talk, my young friend! But you aren't a match for either.' Brennus grinned. 'Yet. Two or three years, maybe.'

'That's a long time if they want to kill me now.'

'It is.' The Gaul paused, thinking. 'So I propose we become allies. Look out for each other.'

'Me look after you?' Romulus' mouth opened and closed. 'But I'm only fourteen.'

'With two kills to your name. And one was in fair combat.' Brennus' eyes were bright. 'You show great promise, lad. You'll be an excellent fighter one day.'

'I'd be honoured.'

'Among my people, such friendship is not made lightly.' A flicker of emotion passed across the Gaul's face. 'Needs be, we fight to the death for each other. Makes us brothers until one or both is dead.' His jaw clenched.

'Are you prepared for that?'

Romulus paused, aware the gesture meant a lot to Brennus. It did to him as well. Previously Juba had been the only man he had trusted. Taking a deep breath, he nodded.

Brennus held out a muscled arm and the two clasped firmly. Romulus met the other's steady gaze and the Gaul smiled in satisfaction.

'The first lesson will be how to kill quickly. Lentulus nearly got you at the end.'

'I was so excited at winning.'

'Exactly. You didn't stay focused.' Brennus punched him on the chest. 'Always keep in mind what an enemy might do next.'

Romulus glanced over at Figulus and Gallus. Judging by their scowls, they were none too pleased at the clear gesture of friendship.

'We need to watch those two constantly for a start.'

'We 'll have to kill them sooner or later,' said Brennus, shrugging. 'Forget the pricks for now. A good soak is what we need!'

The Gaul saw Romulus' questioning look. 'Memor gave in, let me start using the baths again,' he said with a grin. 'Hot water will loosen up that leg. Then the unctor can get to work softening the scar tissue.'

Romulus limped across the yard, his arm on Brennus' shoulder. For the first time since losing Juba and his family, the young fighter felt he had a friend he could trust.

With his life.

It was a good feeling.

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