Gladiator of Rome (#1 in Gladiator Series)

Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Leonidas bristled at Artorius's request. He stood, before the gates, about to exit onto the sands of a new age and now the Champion of Greece was asking this of him!?
Peering through the many square holes in the gate's design, Leonidas looked out onto the golden sand even as he remembered the training session with the Gladiatrix Krista. He remembered her being rather good. She was one of a handful of people who had been able to strike him and as he thought about it now the skin across his back grew cold. 

He also remembered thinking she was a creature of pride so he doubted she would take too kindly to Artorius's request of him but then, after recent events, he doubted this would even register for her. The events of the previous day had rocked the foundations of Rome and her entire empire.

The crowds were no longer bloodthirsty for the games. They did not chant nor cheer, instead they stood sombre and eerily silent. The majority of people were dressed in black as their gazes were fixed upon the royal box, looking for guidance on how to proceed in these terrible times. 

But whilst the people mourned the slaves knew better. Leonidas remembered that beautiful lively creature he had help train and anger at how she, and the rest of them, were being treated began to engulf his entire body. I shall give them something to look at, he thought.

Artorius's words suddenly seemed very reasonable. The sword in his palm now felt like a heavy burden which Leonidas wished to quickly relieve himself of instead of the object he had come to see as a friend and what had saved his life on numerous occasions. Coming to terms with what he was about to do, knowing it was for something greater than himself, he gave Artorius a small nod and walked out onto the sands with a new agenda. An agenda passed onto him, and many others, from Artorius.

The dry sand crunched loudly beneath his sandals as he walked. It was foreign for him to hear his own footsteps - they were usually drowned out by the cheering of the crowd - so much so that it almost felt like a strike against his chest with each step he took as the masses remained silent. Leonidas could hear his own heart raging inside his chest whilst the atmosphere in the amphitheatre felt thick with tension. 

For the first time since he entered the arena Leonidas could feel every pair of eyes on him. It felt as if they were pushing him into the ground. It was almost surreal the way the faceless crowd gazed down upon him, judging him for the actions of another and willing to hold him accountable if only so that they could feel somewhat better about themselves as they perceived justice to have been served. 

Following the ritual of the arena Leonidas bowed before the royal box and offered them his sword as his opponent was released from across the arena. Turning to look behind him Leonidas gripped his sword tight as he gazed upon the athletic figure of Cato. A gladiator from Ludus Dacicus, Cato's mixed-race complexion shone comfortably beneath the sun and he held himself in such confidence it was as if he belonged there. His face, soft at the edges, was blank of emotion as he strode towards him.
Cato was a skilled warrior that many feared to face in battle with his cool demeanour and flair for the extreme.

A slight sliver of unease crept into Leonidas's chest as Cato performed the same ritual before the royal box much like he had done a moment ago. Leonidas found himself gripping his sword tighter as he wondered if Cato would play along to Artorius's plans. Leonidas did not know if the instructions had reached the other gladiator schools, and if they hadn't then Leonidas was surely going to be killed after what he was about to do. 

Cato looked at Leonidas briefly and as he did so Leonidas saw that his eyes were the colour of bronze but beneath that there was a hint of a secret lying beneath the surface. Perhaps Cato did know about the plan after all, Leonidas thought with hope as the spokesman for the arena started to speak, setting the scene, though his voice lacked its usual emphasis.