eye of the man, he had watched kill so easily, and without mercy.
As Calfax flared at him, he saw nothing but hatred in his soulless eye, that if he could, the Spartan would kill every Roman, man, woman and child. No matter, how much applause he might receive, even now, as his name was hailed, Calfax was a slave.
He finally pulled his gaze away from Gaius, turning once the far gate was opened, allowing him to leave the arena as several men rushed out with hooks in hand to drag the bodies back inside. A moment later the fat editor of the games returned to his podium and began his closing statements to the adoring crowds.
By now, Gaius lost interest in hearing anything more. He stepped away from the barred gate and turned his attention towards Antony, who sat with his back up against a wooden support beam, clutching his stomach with both hands.
“Is it over?” Antony asked as he looked up at Gaius.
“Yes, it is over,” Gaius replied as he reached down and lifted his friend to his feet. “We had better get you cleaned before your father sees you like this, or it will be both of our backsides that feel his wrath.”
Antony nodded as he and Gaius left, having seen what they wanted. Now, both just wanted to forget what they’d witnessed and salvage their day before they had to head back to the country, leaving the wonders of Rome behind.
CHAPTER FIVE
The summer sun was high as Gaius, along with Antony and Julia walked along the crumbling stone wall that led up to his modest home. The same slave who had watched over the trio during their time in Rome was with them now, escorting Gaius home as Varro had ordered.
Gaius was returning about the time that his father had instructed him before he left for the city. While he wished his time in Rome could have lasted longer, he did not want to overextend his experience quite yet. Now, with his head swelled with memories of the past two days, he regretted having to leave so soon when he was just starting to see all the wonders the capital had to offer.
Gaius had seen death before, mostly animals he and his father hunted in north. He even saw a man die once; well, a man who was still a boy, only three years older than he was now.
A season ago, Julius had been called north by a former soldier friend to help hunt down a pack of wolves that had been terrorizing the local farmers. Since leaving the military his father took dozens of such jobs. However, this was the first job he had taken since Gaius’ mother had died, and with no one else to look after him, Julius decided to bring him along; a journey Gaius had looked forward to as much as he had for Rome.
On the third day of the hunt, after they had come back with four dead wolves, their pelts hanging over the side of one horse, a boy named Claudius, the son of Julius’ friend fell suddenly from his horse as it was spooked by a snake which lay along the side of the road.
Gaius remembered watching the boy’s horse rear up, throwing Claudius off its back. He had no chance to recover. It all happened so quickly that when he hit the ground, his head cracked open against a rock. Claudius was gone, just like that.
He remembered watching the boy’s father cry to the heavens, smashing the snake to little pieces of bloodied flesh, even slicing the horse’s throat for it panicking. Even so, like yesterday, Gaius stood, watching, not mortified by seeing the boys’ brain and blood splattered across the dusty road. He had assumed that after his mother’s long- suffering illness that anything related to death would ever bother him again, and so far, it hadn’t.
The fates were strange beings, his father had once said. One moment a boy was with his father chasing down wolves, riding home to celebrate, and the next moment his ashes were being spread across the earth after a quick and pointless end.
Gaius hoped that like those five gladiators, he might be able to see his death coming, and perhaps fight to prolong his life. Staring death down, shaking a fist in its face, that was how he hoped he would go, not meaningless because a snake just had to lay in the road and spooked a young mare.
For the moment, Gaius tried to block the memories of what he had seen yesterday and years before, and enjoy the time he had now with his friends.
Julia ran up beside Gaius and pushed into his hands several flowers that she had plucked from the side of the road.
“For crying out loud, would you leave him alone already!” Antony blurted as he reached to smack his sister, but she ran off, giggling as she darted behind the older woman who followed them closely.
Gaius smiled as he couldn’t help but smell the flowers he now held in his hand. He looked back at Julia, who was fast at work once more, as she filled her hands yet again with another arrangement of summer flowers, lost in her own little world.
“Gosh! She can be such as pain in the ass,” Antony moaned.
“It’s okay, really. I don’t mind at all. She is in her own world without a care.” Gaius looked back at Julia, enjoying her carefree exploration of his lands, not carrying about the sorry state it was in. Something about her spirit always seemed to lift his. He hoped she stayed this way, innocent and fearless. He couldn’t help but wonder what the future might hold for the two of them as they grew older. He found himself thinking more and more about that with each new day, a question that was starting to haunt him that at times, he was eager to grow so he may have his answer: would her affection always be this strong toward him, or would it lessen as her world revealed more to her than a simple farm boy could ever provide.
“Hey, it looks like you have some company,” Antony commented as he looked up towards Gaius’ home, which finally came into view.
Gaius had to put his hand over his brow, so he could see through the bright glare of the sun. Indeed, he saw two horses standing outside, each one packed with enough supplies to last a week.
“I wonder who it could be,” Antony pondered as, he and Gaius quickened their pace.
“I do not know. We don’t typically get many visitors,” Gaius replied, curious, as he kept his eyes ahead. It was just then that he recalled his father, when last he saw him mentioning that someone was coming on this day, and for whatever reason he insisted in him meeting the stranger.
As the three friends came nearer to the small home, Gaius could see that the horses had been branded with the seal of the sixth legion, with a second mark under it that read,
Antony and Julia remained with their slave as Gaius approached his front door. He couldn’t shack the bad feeling that was brewing in the pit of his stomach. And then, as Gaius went to reach for the door handle, it was pulled open before he could reach it.
Gaius stumbled back, eyes wide as a large man stood before him, seemingly not noticing the boy who had to tilt his head; eyes panicked as Gaius squared himself, fist clenched into a tight ball.
The burly man was about the age of Gaius’ father, only a bit larger and with a thick grayish beard. He wore a lion-skinned cloak over his shoulders; its paws dropped down over his chest, which was covered with a loose-fitting, brown leather chest plate, which bore the same engraving of the white wolf that Gaius had seen several times. It was, however, what was in the man’s hand scared him the most, a small dagger.
As the stranger finally looked down, Gaius could see a long scar that ran from the top of his brow and ending just above his cheekbone. It seemed recent, and gave him a menacing appearance.
At first, the man’s expression hardened his stare cold as he studied the boy who was standing before him, and then he spoke.
“You don’t look like much. I expected you to be bigger by now,” the man said in a deep and raspy voice.
Gaius could smell the scent of cheap wine coming off of the man’s breath as he spoke.
“I guess it could be worse. You could have taken after your father,” the old soldier then laughed as his expression suddenly changed to a friendly grin.
The man raised his knife to his other hand and sliced a piece of dried beef, before putting the meat into his
