“My brother has justdeclared this…contest is about to begin,” Ivomagus explained. “Andhe has informed them that the first man to ask him for mercy willreceive it.” He said more quietly, “The King has no wish to seeyour Centurion die, Alex. As soon as he has the slightest excuse,he will declare the fight is over. And,” he smiled, “tomorrow youwill leave us and return home.”
You arrogant, smugbastard, I thought, but I kept this thought inside my head;besides, Cogidubnus had called out again, holding one hand in theair for a heartbeat, then swept it down as he shouted what Iassumed was the Parisii word to begin. Berdic leapt across thesmall space, moving as if he had been shot from aballista, lowering his head andcharging at Gnaeus, clearly intending to slam into Gnaeus’ bodyaround the waist. All he did was manage to ram his head right intothe table forming that part of the square, and for an instant, Ithought it might be over because he staggered back, shaking hishead, clearly stunned. I would describe how Gnaeus managed to evadehis charge, but I cannot because I do not really know; it happenedso quickly that, one instant he was standing directly in front ofBerdic, then he was standing to the side as the Parisii took astumbling step away from Gnaeus, trying to get some distance. And,to my shock and utter dismay, Gnaeus did absolutely nothing topress his advantage, and seemed content to allow Berdic to gatherhis wits.
“What is he doing?”Ivomagus had to shout this, because the crowd was now yelling atthe top of their lungs, but all I could say was, “I have noidea.”
Berdic’s head apparently cleared quickly,but there was a trickle of blood visible on his forehead,originating from above his hairline. This time, however, he did notlunge; instead, he shuffled to his right in an attempt to cut downthe space Gnaeus had to maneuver, and once again, Gnaeus seemedperfectly happy to allow it, until his back was up against thetables forming the corner nearest to where we were located. Berdicmade a feint with his left hand, and Gnaeus seemingly fell for it.Berdic’s right fist shot out and struck Gnaeus on the left cheek,causing the crowd to erupt in cheers as Gnaeus’ head rocked back,causing me to wince, but Berdic was not through, because hefollowed it up with a left hand, also to Gnaeus’ face, this timestriking in the area of Gnaeus’ right eye. Again, Gnaeus’ headsnapped back, but he still did not try to move, nor did he evenpunch back as Berdic struck him once, twice, then a third time.This was the moment when, suddenly, I understood what Gnaeus wasdoing, and it took quite an effort for me not to turn and bellowinto Cogidubnus’ face that, like Mandubracius, they were about towitness something they would talk about for the rest of theirdays.
The moment that I was informed that we wouldnot be facing each other with weapons, I realized what I had to do.My father had explicitly warned me about trying to summon thisbeast that resides inside men of the Pullus line, and as I learnedby reading his account, his belief that he was in control of it wasone of the biggest errors of his life.
“It comes when the gods deem you needit,” he had explained, or tried to, although I was not reallylistening. “Don’t think that you can summon it whenever you wantit.”
I learned that night in the hall that he wascorrect; I had thought that just seeing Berdic with Bronwen wouldbe sufficient to unleash this rage inside me that I first rememberexperiencing when I was about six years old, and one of mychildhood friends would not surrender the ball we were playingwith. My only memory of that, to this day, was right up to, andthen the moment afterward when I saw Lucius lying on the ground,clutching his nose as blood poured out of it, dripping into thedirt. Now, while seeing Bronwen with Berdic and how miserable shewas made me angry, it was not enough. Berdic stepping into thesquare had not done it either, and at first, I was afraid that Iwould be unable to fulfill my plan, when the fool plunged at me, Isidestepped, and he rammed his head directly into one of thetables, much like a bull trying to smash its way out of its stall.I saw his knees buckle, and I knew that if I hit him just once atthis point, this would be over, which was why I just stood there,and as he informed me later, alarming Alex.
Berdic did recover his wits, and whatI saw in his eyes was not just anger but embarrassment, although hedid approach me more cautiously as I allowed myself to bemaneuvered into the corner, choosing to place myself in the cornerwhere my back would be to the king, the rough surface of the tablescraping my back, though I was not aware of it until later. Helaunched his first punch, which I could have lessened the impact ofby rolling with it, but I chose not to, wanting to get an idea ofhis power. It was not inconsiderable, but I also was watching him,and Berdic was the kind of strong man who thinks that all of hispower came from his large arms; his lower body and waist did notmove a bit with any of his punches. I believe that it was about histhird punch where I felt the skin of my cheek split open, but moreimportantly, the beast inside me roused itself. Of his ownvolition, he backed away from me, panting hard, telling mesomething else about him, that Berdic’s strength was his ultimateweakness. I guessed that, like me, Berdic had always been biggerand stronger than his fellow tribesmen, and he took that advantagefor granted. Which, being honest, I had a tendency to do, up untilI came to the Fourth Cohort of the1st Legion, and I was exposedto what it means to be a professional, and
