‘Behold! The wondrous gorilla!’ Batiatus roared, forcing back the vomit that was tickling noxiously at his tonsils. ‘Its flesh has been cooked to a state of perfect succulence by my master chef, and flavoured to an exquisite intensity with a number of spices from the east.’
Despite the queasiness sloshing about in his belly, Batiatus felt a rush of courage and confidence come flooding back through his veins. He glanced across at Octavian, hoping to discern a similar expression upon his face, but Octavian merely scowled at him, his eyes aflame with a dangerous anger. Batiatus swallowed, choking down the rage that was now rising in retaliation to Octavian’s wrath.
‘Ungrateful bastard’ he muttered under his breath. ‘You need me and my gladiators more than anything. I’m not your fucking servant – we’re partners, you arrogant cunt!’ He cleared his throat as the slaves set the enormous platter with its grotesque charge down on an empty table and watched as the other slaves placed the cloth-covered cage next to the entrance of the fighting cage, inside of which Viridovix was waiting.
A small slave boy, no older than eight, was positioned on top of the cloth-covered cage. He clambered over to the end nearest the entrance of the fighting cage and pulled on a rope to raise the door of the covered cage beneath him.
As the door began to open, the entire hall fell into an anxious, expectant hush, and seconds seemed to stretch out like strands of gum pulled between parting fingers. Eventually the cage door was fully open … but nothing emerged.
The silence, however, was broken abruptly by yet another guest doubling over and retching loudly.
‘There’s nothing in there!’ a man near the back of the hall yelled. ‘It’s all been a lie, a ridiculous charade!’
That was it; Batiatus snapped. With a wordless, bestial snarl and a storm of wrath pulsating its purple clouds across his face, he sprang up from his table and snatched a spear from the hands of the nearest guard. He took a few hobbling steps on his gammy leg, and then with a grunt of fury he flung the spear at the cloth-covered cage.
The spear arced through the air with a whistling whizz, and when it struck the cloth its point drove through the gaps between the bars and thudded into something soft behind it, prompting a thunderous and terrifying roar, and with that a gargantuan beast burst in a wild charge out of the dark space into the fighting ring, the broken spear embedded in its left shoulder.
Shouts of fright, wonder, surprise and awe resounded through the hall immediately. Inside the fighting cage Viridovix jumped back, circling the space with his back to the bars, keeping his sword aimed at the huge, black-furred beast that was snarling and rumbling as it bounded along the perimeter of the cage on all fours.
The gorilla – a large male – stopped after a few moments of frenetic panic, and as he panted and gasped in terror he reached up with his long right arm and plucked the broken spear out of his shoulder. He then flung the weapon down in anger, prompting another chorus of gasps and cries from the gathered diners, many of whom scrambled up from their tables and hurried over to the fighting cage to get a better look at the gorilla.
‘Kill it!’ someone screamed from the back. ‘Kill it, Viridovix!’
This suggestion was met with a resounding chorus of approval from the gathered diners.
‘Yes! Kill the monster! Kill it!’
Viridovix swallowed a dry mouthful of an emotion that he had not experienced for quite some time: fear. This was no human opponent that he could study, whose moves with sword, axe or spear he could deconstruct, counter and defeat. No, this was a beast unlike anything he had ever laid eyes on, and he had no idea how it would act or react, what strengths or weaknesses it possessed, or even how much – or little – damage his sword and steel bear-claws could do to it.
‘Come on Viridovix! Kill the monster!’ Octavian shouted. ‘Do your master proud and slaughter this horrid thing!’
Viridovix advanced with caution on the gorilla, keeping his sword extended out in front of him.
‘Stab it! Cut it!’ a shrill voice screeched from somewhere to his right.
‘Come on! Lop its horrible head off!’ someone screamed hoarsely from his left.
The creature appeared to have no interest in fighting him, however; while he was aware of the gladiator’s presence, his eyes were flickering from left to right and right to left, desperately seeking a way out of this terrifying prison. His hairless chest, which, like the rest of his body, was strangely human in structure, was heaving up and down as he gulped in great, fear-laden lungfuls of air.
‘Get it! Cut the monster!’
‘What are you waiting for, gladiator?! Attack it!’
‘Kill it!’
The shrill, vicious voices bounced about like angry gnats inside Viridovix’s head, echoing from all around the hall, assailing his mind with nips and stings.
Come on! Receiving that wooden sword depends on this. You must do this. You are so close, so very close.
Viridovix grunted and lunged forward with a speedy slash, aimed at the gorilla’s chest. The blade raked his skin and cut through his flesh as it whipped through the air, and the beast howled out pitifully and batted Viridovix’s sword away with one of his huge, shaggy arms. Quick as a flash Viridovix turned the blade on the upswing and hacked at the creature’s
