“Felix said that as soon as we start earning coin, we will get to go into town to have sex with prostitutes,” Greg said and Marco looked sideways at him.
“Felix sure as hell knows a lot about what goes on,” Thad said.
“Yeah, he does,” Greg agreed, smiling, his eyes crinkling.
“Well, personally speaking, I don’t think I want to go to the prostitutes. There’s no penicillin during this time and I don’t want my dick to fall off,” Marco said and made a face.
“Well, there’s always Septimus,” Dean said and sniggered and grabbed the side of Marco’s head and kissed his scarred cheek.
“You asshole,” Marco said, laughing and shoved Dean and then punched his arm with a loud smack.
“Oowee, man, that fucking hurt,” Dean said, holding his arm.
“You deserve it Dean, ‘cause it looks like you’re the only one that’s gonna get anything,” Greg said and laughed.
A month and a half later, Thad was sitting against a tree. It was early evening and the four sat outside in a courtyard that was in front of their cell. They were still on the first floor and hadn’t moved to the second story, though there weren’t as many men in their cell, some of the men had to go back to basic training. If they couldn’t keep up, they were moved back for extra training. They would move up to the second story when their ranks and standing went up. There were also smaller cells on the second floor and less men in them. Thad knew that he and his friends could be separated if they moved too far apart in ranking. It was in all of their best interest to remain at the top of their game.
Thad watched as Dean got up and went over to the young woman he’d been flirting with, to talk over near her cell. Dean’s face was fused with a glow and Thad chuckled softly. There was a cool breeze and a distinct nip in the air. He and the men had been given tunics and were promised cloaks when the temperature dropped even more. Life here wasn’t as bad as he feared, being here in the past. It still really sucked, but at least they weren’t thrown to the wolves like the first day. It seemed like a lifetime ago and he tried not to think about his sister and his folks. He remembered when he’d gone to boot camp, he’d been homesick, but he’d been kept busy. Then before he’d come to Italy, he had spent a couple of weeks on leave at home and he’d been homesick again. But after a few months, he’d adjusted. Now, he was time-sick. Homesick for his own time and place in the world.
When the games were going on across the street, there was the constant roar from the crowd. There was a miasma of sewage around them and though they were becoming nose deaf, sometimes the wind would shift and the stench of it would wash over them. He hated going to the toilets and hoped that no one using the sponges had hepatitis or worms. His own world wasn’t sterile by any means, but it was a hell of a lot more sanitary than this place.
“You gotta serious look on your face,” Greg said and sat down beside Thad.
“Naw, just thinking about our own time and how much it sucks here,” Thad said softly.
“I feel ya, brah. Guess it could be worse, we could be the slaves cleaning the shitters,” Greg said and chuckled low.
“Yeah, pretty sure that would suck,” Thad agreed. Both men were quiet and the other men in the cell were getting ready for sleep. When darkness came, their door would be locked and there was no light or candles to be had. Thad got up and walked over to a tree and took a final pee for the night. He didn’t like using the piss buckets in the cells. The cloying reek of urine rose up from the buckets, which were positioned by the cell door.
Thad and his friends had claimed the far wall and Septimus had claimed it as well. It was the best spot because there were no drafts and no one stepped on you in the middle of the night to take a piss. They had been promised cots when the weather turned cold, for now, they slept on the hard floor. There had been an occasion or two when someone had taken a dump by the bucket. A sleepy gladiator had stepped in it, then foul cursing had ensued. As it was, the cell was filled with sleeping, farting, snoring men. Most of that hadn’t bothered Thad, since he’d been living in a barracks since he entered the Marines.
Dean made his way over and the four went into the cell, moving their blankets and getting comfortable. Tomorrow, they were going to fight in Ludus Magnus’ small arena. No one knew who just yet, but tomorrow would begin their professional lives. There would be roughly three thousand people there, most of them would be rich merchants, government officials and so on. Cato told them that this is where they would pick up sponsorships. The hope was that the best would be chosen over the course of the week.
Games across the way in the massive Colosseum were slowing down and only a periodic game would be put on during the winter months. The fifty thousand spectators would whittle down as it got colder. Thad and his friends would continue to train over the winter, but it wouldn’t be until the following spring that they would get their chance across the street. Luckily, the emperor didn’t bother himself with the smaller events. This was to get the new gladiators used to spectators and real fighting. They would be given the sharpened blade tomorrow, not the dulled down ones they trained
