Chapter 18
Krista saw it over and over again in her head.
She had turned to kill the Roman when his raging body came to a sudden halt, an arrow imbedded in his neck.
Looking back on it, Krista could remember hearing the whistle of the second arrow as it sliced through the air and the soft thud as it impacted against his armour plating.
She had been about to kill him when the Empress had found it prudent to step in.
But Pompeia had no right to intervene in the one place where Krista could control the outcome of her life; the one place where Krista held power.
Not only had Pompeia stole the glory of the kill from Krista, she had also stolen the small amount of free will Krista had left.
The free will where Krista had agreed to Pompeia’s deal, but now Pompeia would hold this act over Krista’s head.
Pompeia would want the favour returned.
Still seething with anger and yet unable to do anything about it, Krista continued to wash the blood from her skin to reveal the shallow cuts made against her flesh that were already beginning to clot.
Pulling herself from the bath, her naked body dripping wet, she walked across the mosaic floor and gathered up her leather battle outfit.
Slipping on the lappet-skirt that fastened around her waist, Krista tightened the straps to the intricate breast plate that barely protected anything and pulled on her single leather pauldron.
The blood had been cleaned away from the breast plate making the metal gleam once more.
Lacing the boots around her calves, she pulled on her wrist bracers and tightened the string until they stayed in place.
Krista felt more comfortable dressed in armour as she wrinced the water from her hair and slipped from the baths, heading towards her room.
Ludus Magnus, once a roaring and over-crowded gladiator school seemed almost desolate with many of its students now occupying an early grave just beyond the city walls.
At least, that’s where Krista liked to think they were when she knew full well that they had probably been fed to the wild animals.
Walking down the arcade, Krista lifted her gaze when she heard someone walking towards her and saw Artorius.
He had not yet seen her allowing Krista a glimpse at his brooding face, framed beautifully by his thick black hair.
His expression was dark and his gaze looked like he was ready to kill someone as his eyebrows were furrowed down and his lips were pulled into a grimace.
Artorius had not spoken to her since just after the games had begun and despite Krista knowing that she had bigger matters on hand, she still wanted to know why.
And she was never one to turn down a fight so, keeping her path true, she kept walking until it was too late for Artorius to escape.
“Krista?” Artorius looked up and caught her heading straight for him, his eyes no longer looked dark and vengeful but worried.
“Artorius,” Krista nodded her head formally, unsure of what to say and yet it felt like a betrayal after everything they had shared.
“I heard you fought well in the arena with the chariots,” Artorius was making small talk whilst Krista just stared at him, not sure who this person was anymore.
“Artorius,” Krista stepped forward until their chests were mere inches apart and she heard Artorius inhale a deep breath, “What happened?” She looked up into those ebony spheres and saw that he was trying to hide something.
“Artor-” Krista started to whisper his name when he didn’t respond but just at that moment, Artorius reached out and cupped the back of her neck, pressing their bodies close together as he settled his lips upon hers.
Krista fought at first, her heart beating fast, but the feel of his soft velvet lips against hers was too much for her to fight.
His lips were bruisingly fierce against hers as he forced her back against one of the pillars, the stone cold against her damp skin.
Sinking her fingers into his hair, Krista let out a soft moan as she felt his hands slip down her arms and cup her waist.
Artorius’s lips felt like ice cold water on a hot summers day. Krista couldn’t get enough of them.
Krista knew she should be worried by the way he was acting but she was so relieved to finally feel him again that she pushed all those worries to the back of her mind.
Another small moan escaped her lips. She hated how he could make her feel so vulnerable as his hand travelled past her hip before squeezing her thight-
The haze of desire was broken as Krista let out a small yelp of pain and Artorius stumbled backwards, forcing himself away from her.
Krista gazed down at the wound on her thight that Myra had stitched, and saw a small trickle of blood escape her flesh.
“Artorius, I-” Krista looked up but saw that he had vanished into the shadows, leaving Krista breathless with bruised lips and a dark mood.
“Oi, you!” A menacing voice suddenly shouted as Krista inspected her leg.
Snapping her head up, Krista was ready to fight but there was no one there.
Frowning, Krista looked up and down the arcade but saw nobody. Was she imagining it?
“Up here,” A light voice started to chuckle and Krista snapped her head up towards the roof where she saw Frieda dangling over the edge, a smile plastered to her lips.
Krista narrowed her gaze at the blonde woman as she jumped from the roof, twisting her body mid-air, before she landed on the balls of her feet with a wide grin on her face.
“What do you want?” Krista asked, realising that Frieda had heard everything that passed between her and Artorius.
“Domita’s recovering well,” Frieda informed Krista about the girl who had received an arrow to her thigh in the arena that morning.
Krista gave her a small grunt that Frieda could interpret as she wished as Krista turned and started to walk towards her room, hoping to grab some sleep.
“I see you and the Champion of Greece are getting along well,” Frieda walked beside Krista, her small body lithe and fast.
Krista paused and faced Frieda, “Is there something you want?”
Frieda’s amused expression turned heavy as she held out her hand to Krista.
“What’s this?” Krista glared at the offered hand with scepticism.
“I know that without you in that arena today then most of us would probably be dead by now,” Frieda cricked her neck to the side, obviously not used to giving someone else praise, “I just wanted to offer my- my gratitude,” Frieda thrust her hand back towards Krista, insisting she took it.
“There’s no need,” Krista shook her head, “I wasn’t about to die at the hands of the Romans.”
“But-” Frieda started to contest her when the sound of stamping heels filled their ears and they turned to see four guards headed towards them.
Krista turned to face them, knowing exactly where she was about to be led.
* * *
Led out of Ludus Magnus by armed escort, the moon was high in the sky by the time she reached the palace.
Lit elegantly by torches, the roman architects had truly thought of everything as the palace stood beautiful, acting as a beacon as it overlooked the capital.
A beacon that Krista had grown to despise.
As she walked through it's halls, Krista had never seen such wealth in her entire life.
Statues were made from pure gold, the servants were dressed in thick fabrics, and exotic jewels from all over the world adorned the palace.
Led down a long corridor, Krista was escorted into a room of finery. Persian rugs were laid across the floor, chaises with fur coverings littered the room and everything seemed to be made from gold.
Taking in the range of deep colours all expertly lit by candle light, the guards stayed at her back as a door across the room opened and a figure stepped out.
Krista curtseyed, expecting the Empress when a deep voice filled her ears and made her heart skip a beat.
“You may leave us,” The Commander waved the guards away as Krista slowly straightened herself and saw Commander Niclaus, dressed in his uniform and pouring himself a cup of wine.
Looking over her shoulder as the doors were shut behind her, Krista realised that they were alone in the room.
Memories of the last time they were alone together sprang forth in her mind making her heart beat faster and something similar to fear grip her chest.
Krista remained silent as the commander took a long dreg of wine before unhooking the cloak from his shoulders and draping it over the four-poster bed that stood like a threat at the back of the room.
“As you can see,” The Commander turned and faced her, “I have been granted accommodation according to my station.”
Krista swallowed around the lump in her throat, consciously aware of the amount of skin she was showing.
“A present from the Emperor,” Niclaus continued to speak as he stood a few feet from her, his eyes absorbing her form, from the way her damp hair clung to her neck and the way her breasts overfilled the cups of her breast plate, “For the way I trained my Gladiators.”
Krista looked up at that.
“You see, the Emperor is impressed by you,” Commander Niclaus continued, “And because of you, he has granted me a room here in the palace.”
Krista bristled at that; her skill had allowed this beast to be promoted whilst she remained a slave?
“Take today for example,” The commander rested against the corner of his new desk, his stern face watching her carefully, “You were able to make eight women who hated each other work together and defeat the Romans.”
Krista knew then that the commander, and everybody else, had underestimated the bonds of slavery and survival.
But underneath this, Krista knew that the Commander was getting at something and Krista wasn’t sure whether she would like it.
“Such leadership is rare,” The commander continued to monologue, liking the sound of his own voice, “And your skill precedes you, however I found it truly remarkable the way you killed the two romans at the end.”
Krista’s shoulders straightened and her jaw clenched together when he got to the root of the problem. Niclaus had seen the Roman get shot by an arrow.
The Empress’s action had rippled further than she expected, but the question was did Niclaus know about Pompeia's involvement?
“Gratitude,” Krista simply murmured, thanking him for his comment whilst not allowing herself to fall into a trap of words.
The Commander let out a small chuckle as he approched her until his broad figure eclipsed her own, his hand reaching out and brushing her hair to the side, exposing her shoulder.
Krista swallowed as his thick fingers trailed over the soft skin of her neck and down towards her shoulder, brushing over the wound she had received that morning in the arena.
“The Emperor would not be pleased if he learnt one of his favourite Gladiatrixes was receiving help,” The Commander spoke softly.
“I- I do not know what you are speaking of,” Krista feigned ignorance, keeping her eyes straight forward.
“Do not,” The Commander gripped her arm, pushing his thumb against the wound on her shoulder and shooting pain up her arm, “Test me.”
Krista clenched her teeth against the dull throb of pain that radiated across her shoulder, “Truly,” she hissed as she gazed up into the commander’s eyes, “I do not know what you speak of.”
He remained there for a few minutes, watching her carefully before he released her arm with an exasperated sigh.
“You may leave,” The commander uttered a few minutes later as Krista held her breath, “You will need your rest if you are to succeed in the arena tomorrow.”
Krista could not tell if he was warning her or if he had become accustomed to such a lifestyle that he feared her death would result in his return to the rooms at Ludus Magnus.
Either way, Krista was not about to argue as the guards returned to escort her back to Ludus Magnus.
“Take her back the other way,” The commander ordered the guards. Krista was surprise but she did not care, just so long as she was leaving.
Not wasting any time, she turned and headed out of the room, feeling like something monumental had just taken place and yet unsure of what that was.
Being escorted through a maze of corridors inside the palace, Krista and the guards came across a posse of servant girls crowded outside a doorway.
Krista frowned at the look upon their faces when suddenly the noises from inside the room filtered through to her ears.
Noises that made her skin flush pink and her lips to tingle as she remembered Artorius.
As she stepped past, Krista could not resist a look through the gap in the door, left open accidentally, and was shocked at what she saw.
In the low candlelight Krista could make out two bodies, wrapped up in each other's limbs.
As she looked closer, Krista recognised the Empress, her blonde hair a striking contrast to the tanned skin of the man who she shared her bed with.
The black haired man seemed to be bringing her to unmeasurable heights as soft mewls and moans left her lips, the sounds revolting to Krista's ears now that she knew they came from Pompeia's lips.
Krista did not know why she was horrified by such a scene when she realised that she recognised the armour that was strewn across the floor.
Flickering her eyes past the armour, she followed the trail of clothing back towards the bed.
Looking once more at the back of the man with Pompeia, Krista prayed to all the Gods that it was not who she thought it was.
But as she watched, Pompeia opened her eyes and looked directly at Krista, a grin etching onto her lips.
And in those next few minutes everything seemed to happen in slow motion as Pompeia whispered something into the man’s ear, making him turn to face Krista.
And in that moment Krista felt like she had died as she stared directly into Artorius’s ebony eyes.