To do so would be to embarrass their host. This was not their time and no matter what Pansa thought about the emperor, he kept those feelings to himself. Thad was pretty sure these rich people would run screaming from the villa if they knew that the Marines would kill the emperor if given a chance. Gladiators they might be, but they were also slaves and their comfort and mental health meant nothing to these people. He doubted that even Pansa was so forward thinking. The two focused on keeping their mouths shut and when the food came, they both enjoyed the food.
Dean sat shivering on his bed. The doors were shut tight, but the winter wind moved through. He shivered.
“We need another brazier,” he grouched.
“We need more blankets,” Thad said and Dean nodded. He was cold but he was missing Zaza more. He wished he could sneak out and see her, but she said she needed a few days alone. He knew what that meant and sigh heavily. The guys ribbed him when it was her time of the month because they said he always got bitchy too. He huddled down under the cover. Thad and Felix were playing Tabula, the backgammon game. Marco was catnapping in his bunk. Atticus, the new guy, was carving something out of a piece of wood. The knife he had was tiny and had a very short blade, they weren’t allowed weapons outside the arena. Atticus didn’t talk because he’d had his tongue cut out by a Roman soldier several years ago.
Atticus had been a high ranking palus secundus, but had lost a series of matches. He was moved down and ended up with them. He was a nice enough guy. He was a Secutor and mostly fought the net men. That reminded him of Greg and he shifted and turned over. He also missed Septimus and his eyes shifted to Marco. He knew it upset Marco a lot, that the guy had killed himself instead of killing Marco. Dean was glad, even though a part of him was really sad. He would miss Marco and they were essentially brothers, Marine brothers.
He had checked on his accounts with Glaucis, the manager of the Ludus. He calculated that he had maybe less than two years or one, if this coming season went well. He would find out if he still had any fans on his first fight of the season. He chuckled softly to himself. It seemed weird to call it a season as though this were a sports team and they had on seasons and off seasons. But, in a way it was. He was earning money with each match he won. The crap side of that was that he could die if he didn’t win. At least in football or basketball, they didn’t literally gut you if you had a bad game. But, like in modern sports, if he did well, he was paid and he had a sponsor. He shook his head.
He flopped on his stomach and sighed. He missed his wife, for that is how he thought of her. It was unsanctioned and unofficial, but neither Glaucis nor Scauras bitched about it and looked the other way. That was good enough for him.
“Hofstadter, just go see her. You’re getting on my nerves with that sighing and shit,” Marco said, his eyes still closed.
“Screw it, I think I will,” Dean said and grinned, grabbing his cloak.
Marco stood in the brilliant sunlight and let the warming rays of early spring soak in. He was out in the courtyard with the others, playing bocce ball. They were roughly a month out before the official games started. For now, their days were filled with training and gearing up for the season. The Scots with the missing ear was playing bocce ball with them. His name was Cynyr and he had yet to get a good Roman name, but he would get it next month. Any man who could take a shit on Philo was his friend and he and Thad had made him welcome. The other Scots were somewhat standoffish, but they didn’t mind. Every time Philo walked by, they would snigger and a dull red would wash over the man.
Marco broke away and headed for the latrine. He had to take a wicked dump and he hoped for a little privacy. He still wasn’t used to taking a crap with an audience. He didn’t mind taking a piss, but somehow, taking a crap wasn’t a spectator sport in his book. It was quiet along the corridor and he could hear laughter and cheering back in the courtyard. He smiled. Dean was off with Zaza someplace; they rarely saw him unless it was on the training field. He sighed; he was happy for the man, but worried that Zaza might get pregnant. He wasn’t sure what would happen to her. He was sure that doctore would not want a pregnant gladiator out there fighting. He shrugged and sat down and gritted his teeth.
The benches were all made of marble and cold as hell. Dead winter was the worst though there was a brazier set up in the latrine then. It really didn’t help but he guessed it kept the seats ice free. But now, early spring, there was no need and he had to wait a few moments for his ass to unclench. He couldn’t believe they had been here nearly two years. He shook his head. It had been nearly a year since Greg was killed and he swallowed. He missed his friend and brother.
