Gladiator of Rome (#1 in Gladiator Series)

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

10 years later . . .

Krista looked down the dark and haunting tunnel which led to the amphitheater and felt a deep urge to run. Her survival instincts, which they had tried to beat out of her at every opportunity, came flooding back and every sinew in her body wanted to turn around and bolt it in the opposite direction. But then she remembered that there was nothing for her back there; this was her life now. 

"Remember," Lazarus walked up beside her and she felt those survival instincts begin to recede and the training take over. Turning to look at him Krista saw the way his face was taut with anxiety as he was about to let her go although he tried to hide it. She had fought before but this part never changed. "Fight with your head. Wear them down first and then strike."

Krista could hear the hundreds of people on the other side of the tunnel, waiting for their afternoon entertainment. The noise had frightened her at the beginning. It felt as if she was listening to a stampede of a blood thirsty sandal-wearing mob that were marching towards her to take her by the arm and lead her to Tartarus themselves but now it just felt like she was being called to work even though she may not be returning and then it felt like her funeral march. 

Turning to Lazarus, the only person left from her village after Commander Niclaus charged in with his horses and his army and slaughtered everything she held dear, Krista clasped his arm in hers, "I remember everything you taught me," she smiled, trying to appear braver than she was. 

"Come back," Lazarus pulled her against him and hugged her tightly like the daughter he had had taken from him and then the gong sounded and Krista was forced to untangle herself from her old friend. 

Turning back to face the front, she forced her feet slowly up the incline and towards the gate at the other end. As she exited the tunnel; her senses were instantly assaulted by the sun filled amphitheatre.

Freshly raked sand crunched beneath her boots and the scent of fresh blood filled her nostrils where it baked under the midday sun.

Krista was overwhelmed; her stomach was churning as her eyes took in a sea of blurred faces with mouths wide open as they chortled out cheers and other obscene remarks.

Krista was barely aware of a slave girl running forward from the walls and thrusting a pair of swords into her sweaty palms as she saw her opponent step forward from the light.

As she looked upon the other woman Krista noted that they were different in almost all aspects apart from the swords in their hands and the knowledge that in a few minutes one of them would be dead.

Krista's opponent was short and stout with chubby limbs and a mean scowl etched upon her brow, topped with a curly mass of blonde hair that blew into her eyes.

As opposed to Krista's long, lean figure with slight muscles and long dark hair she had been too vain to cut.

It reminded her of her mother too much.

The doors to the tunnels slid shut behind them, sounding like a hammer against their coffin.

Slaves pressed their faces against the bars to see into the arena, as the gladiatrixes turned and saluted the main box which contained the commander, Niclaus, and the governor who had sponsored the games.

It hardly made a difference since the governor was too interested in his slave girl to pay any attention to them upon the sand, forced to fight for their entertainment.

But Krista would win this battle and all the ones after. She would win her freedom and avenge her family.

The sight of Commander Niclaus, reclining in his chair eating grapes, was her reminder of why she was here.