‘Look how scared the ugly monster is!’ howled one obese patron as he sucked down a goblet of wine as if it were but water. ‘How utterly pathetic!’
Inside the cage the gorilla was still desperately seeking a way out, clambering up the bars and jumping around and dashing across the floor in all directions. Viridovix kept his sword aimed at the beast, but saw that his adversary had no interest in fighting whatsoever; he just wanted freedom from this horrifying hell into which he had been so unwillingly thrust.
There is no honour in this. None whatsoever.
‘Give it another cut, gladiator! Show that vile beast who’s boss!’
‘Slaughter it!’
Viridovix took a few half-hearted steps toward the gorilla, but found himself somehow unable to attack the cowering, trembling creature.
A night forest, alive with the comet trails of fireflies, the perfume of flowers in full bloom heavy in the liquid air, the soft dampness of moss and leaves beneath bare feet, her golden hair, drizzled with gently raining starlight—
‘Cut it! Kill it! Kill it now! Kill! Kill!’
Ocean-green eyes, dazzling against the star-perforated curtain of night, hair shiny as burnished bronze, yet soft as loom-stretched silk in his trembling hands. And then, alabaster skin that was so hot against his eager lips, tantalising his exploring tongue with delectable traces of warm saltiness—
‘Destroy it, slave! What are you waiting for?!’
‘Carve it up! We want its head!’
The gorilla dashed across the cage, right in front of Viridovix, who was now so lost in the swirling tempest of memories that he didn’t even react.
‘Viridovix!’ Batiatus snarled, the abrasiveness of naked anger colouring his tone, ‘What are you doing?! Put an end to the monster’s life!’
‘That’s right!’ a woman shrieked to his left. ‘Kill it, you idiot! Kill it!’
It was then that the gorilla caught sight of the mutilated, roasted corpse of the other gorilla, which was a female. The dead one’s head had flopped to the side, and her death-frozen face was staring straight at her live companion. The panicking gorilla stopped dead in his tracks, gripped the bars and stared in shocked silence for a while at the desecrated corpse of his companion. The beast’s grip slackened on the bars, and, ignoring all of the howls, hoots, jeers and cries of aggression resounding all around from the bloodthirsty humans, he simply slumped into a heap on the floor, covered his face with his huge hands, and began to moan pitifully, with a sound that could only be construed as being a tone of pure, unadulterated grief and heart-rending sorrow.
This sight unleashed a lightning bolt of an epiphany that smashed with sudden, soul-shaking force into Viridovix’s mind, and boosted an intense feeling of pathos through his entire being. As he stood frozen in silence, the gorilla parted his hands from his face and stared up at him, locking his sorrow-filled brown eyes into the gladiator’s … and that was it. Viridovix, Beast of the North, mighty champion of the arena, had finally been defeated.
I cannot do this. I cannot. This is the foulest thing of all the foul things I’ve been made to do. The General, he and Spartacus were right – by the gods, I was right, right when I first came here. I am nothing but a slave, nothing but a dog to them. I am a sword-wielding puppet, whose movements are dictated by the masters’ fingers. And when I win that wooden sword, what will it even mean? My freedom was lost the day I accepted this lot, the day I began to revel in all of this. I’ve been Batiatus’s loyal mutt for too long now … for far too long. And he wouldn’t be giving me that sword unless he intended to further use me as his dog in some way. Well, for whatever nefarious purposes he has in mind for me, I’m done. I’m done with all of this. Let them crucify me. I’m done with this life, this broken world. Let death come, let her carry me to the quiet forest beyond the last great sleep. I am ready, at long last. I am finally ready.
Viridovix threw his sword down on the ground and pulled off his helmet, and as tears began to trickle down his cheeks he turned around and started walking back towards the entrance to the fighting cage.
‘Open the door,’ he said softly to the guard there. ‘I’m done. I’m finished. I am a gladiator no more.’
‘You’re fuckin’ joking!’ the guard gasped as a booming roar of disapproval and anger blasted through the crowd.
One particular voice cut through the din with the vehemence of a scimitar blade.
‘VIRIDOVIX!’ Batiatus bellowed, his voice cracking with raw, blind rage that was so vociferous in its ferocity that it temporarily quelled the crippling nausea that was racking his body. ‘How dare you?! HOW DARE YOU?! You pick up that sword right now! PICK IT UP! Pick it up or by all the gods I’ll crucify you TONIGHT!’
‘Throw him in the brazen bull!’ someone shouted, and this sentiment was quickly picked up by the rest of the diners, who soon began to chant and bang their fists on the tables.
‘IN THE BULL! IN THE BULL! IN THE BULL!’
Batiatus’s hands were trembling with the volume of pure rage that was flowing through his system, and his face had turned dark purple with wrath. The veins on his neck and temples were throbbing with an anger so explosive that he felt it might kill
