There wasn’t a large chance of getting killed, but there was a big chance of getting injured and badly. Thad had been assigned Thracian and he had a medium sized shield, a sica sword, which was a curved sword. What had taken time to get used to was all the padding and the weight of the helmet. He felt almost suffocated within the helmet and it was heavy. It reminded him of a cornucopia with a grill on the front for eyeholes. The helmet was decorative as was the manica that was attached to his sword arm. The manica was heavily padded and the outer shell was a decorative metal shielding on the top of the shoulder, which protected his neck. He had the round shield, larger than some shields and smaller than others.
He had leg padding just up past the knee and on one leg he had a metal greave. This came up to his knee but didn’t hinder him. When he’d first put on the ensemble, he’d felt hampered and awkward. After hours and hours of training in the gear, he finally became accustomed to the weight and bulk of it. He found that it did help when the blows were raining down on him and he was now fighting some of the higher ranked gladiators, the tertius palus. Though only slightly higher in rank, the new men needed opponents to fight who were roughly equal strength and skill.
A slave helped each man dress and Thad and his friends also helped each other, checking and rechecking gear. Marco had been assigned Provocator as had Philo. Thad was afraid he’d have to fight his friend until he found out that the Provocator only fought each other. He laughed, because he was pretty sure that Marco was going to kick Philo’s ass at every turn. The Provocator had the large heavy helmet with small holes that dotted the face shield or face shield with a round grid on it. Though Marco’s face was protected, Thad was sure it was difficult to see through. Philo’s helmet was similar, but the eyeholes were larger, with a kind of mesh over them. Each man had a chest shield, called a cardio playlax, which covered their upper chest and their heart. Their stomachs were exposed but they had a larger shield. Thad thought that the shield might be somewhat cumbersome.
Like himself, Marco had the arm protection and also leg protection with the metal greave along with the padding underneath. Each man spent hours getting comfortable with their equipment and attire. Thad could tell each of them were antsy for tomorrow. They would test their skill with live weapons and if the injuries were severe enough, could die. He didn’t know who he was fighting tomorrow, but tomorrow would get there soon enough.
Θ
Lucius watched the men as they went through their paces. It was always the same, they were awkward and moved clumsily at first in their padding and helmets. He remembered his first time many years ago. A lifetime ago. He could see that most of the men were ready to fight in the arena. Remus and Claudius seemed reluctant and he thought at some point in their careers they might turn tail and run. The two were cowards and he’d seen it a hundred times. If they lived long enough, sometimes they lived to regret it.
It was something to face one’s fear and he was sure that most Romans and especially the emperor had never faced their own mortality like these men did on a daily basis. Even the soldiers didn’t, unless they were in the midst of a battle. He had spent all of his adult life facing those fears and he’d been lucky enough to survive and buy his freedom. Most of these men would not and most of them would die within a year or two. Some would make it to three years and even fewer to four and five years. If they hadn’t bought their freedom by then, their survival rate went down because younger and stronger men would face them.
There were no fighting old gladiators. This was a sport for young men, he well knew. He walked back and forth. He was sure that Glaucis would be pleased. Scauras was having a get together with the rich and powerful to drum up support and sponsorships. He sighed heavily and watched the men go back and forth. Tomorrow would be an interesting day.
Θ
It was late morning and Marco stood waiting his turn. Septimus was to go last, he was the highest ranking in their group. For now, Greg was out there with Claudius. Claudius was a Thrax and was barefooted, small shield, and curved sword. He had one arm and both legs wrapped and sported the metal greaves. It didn’t help because Greg was kicking his ass. Claudius was stocky and he was not agile. Greg had long legs and could dart in and out with the netting and snag Claudius on his helmet and yank hard, sending the man sprawling to his belly.
The three thousand spectators roared their approval and Greg moved in and just missed Claudius’ shoulder with the trident. It had been well over twenty minutes and Claudius was beginning to tire. They had all trained hard, building their stamina. If you ran out of steam too soon, mistakes were made. Greg seemed nearly defenseless out there with no shield and no greaves and little padding. But Greg was lightning fast and the tattletale was getting his ass handed to him.
Marco watched as Greg cast out his net and caught the other man around his legs and yanked. Before anyone realized it, Greg was on top of Claudius with his short dagger at the man’s neck. Claudius froze, because struggling could get his neck slit. The crowd hushed and waited, Greg looked down and Marco saw his grin. Claudius reluctantly lifted two fingers, asking
