“I left the knife in his chest, if you’d like to retrieve it,” Thad said as he passed them.
“Thank you, I’ll have someone get it later. Get some rest,” doctore said softly. Thad felt their eyes on his back and he handed his equipment over to a slave. He took in a deep breath and let it out, along with the grief that he’d been holding onto. He felt his eyes sting but swallowed that pain down. Not here, not now.
Θ
“What was that all about?” Scauras asked, turning to Lucius.
“Dealing with a coward,” Lucius said and smiled grimly and Glaucis laughed. This caused Scauras to snort and shake his head. Glaucis patted doctore on the shoulder and followed Drago. Scauras watched the man go and disappear into the depths of the amphitheater. He turned his attention back to Lucius.
“You mean like Gracchus?” Scauras asked, a knowing look in his eyes.
“You knew?” Lucius asked, stunned surprise on his face.
“Of course, most of us knew something was up. He was an ass licking whore and no one liked him,” Scauras said and turned away from the gate. He had work to get back to. He put a hand on Lucius’ back and patted it.
“I thought I was clever,” Lucius said and chuckled.
“You were, but I got wind of it and made sure it didn’t get back to you. Slaves have big mouths sometimes. My only regret is the little pustule didn’t die slower.”
“It took him fourteen hours, I was satisfied with that,” Lucius said.
“That’s because you’re a benevolent man,” Scauras said and grinned at his friend.
“Sure, I’m large like that. I’ve got to get back to the men, before anyone one else tried to kill someone,” Lucius said and lifted a hand and went down into the tunnels. Scauras watched him go. He’d known the man most of his life and Lucius was a good man. Scauras had few contemporaries and even fewer friends. There are not many old gladiators, by the time a man was reaching thirty, they were over the hill. A gladiator’s life span was roughly five to seven years, if they were good, really good. He and Lucius had been that good and each had won the rudis, the wooden sword of valor and each had been given their freedom.
The life of the gladiator was all each of them knew and so each had stayed on, working for Rome and the gladiatorial games in their own way. Both lived now in comfort at the Ludus Magnus and each would die here, one day. Scauras would count it a life well lived. He hummed as he made his way down. So far, the games were going well and it would seem that Drago was a gladiator to be reckoned with. He’d heard about that shit-stain, Philo, but without eyewitnesses, there wasn’t much anyone could do and even still, not much. No, best to handle things themselves. He smiled, remembering Gracchus and chuckled.
Θ
After that, the name Drago was on everyone’s lips. When he fought in the arena, the crowd was enthralled, hoping for a repeat of before. Those who had missed the event were thoroughly chagrinned. Life was a blur as Dean and Thad worked hard to ensure their popularity was maintained. They were promoted to palus secundus early on and then fast tracked palus primus but had requested not to be moved. They liked their roommates, Felix and Atticus and didn’t want that change in their lives. There had been too much upheaval with the loss of Septimus, Marco and Greg. Having the continuity of their friends made life bearable. No one was under the illusion they could live forever and that each bout might be their last.
The perks of palus primus were that their food was much better and they were given more meat, three times a week. Thad had been offered a woman slave, for his use. Since Dean already had a woman, he wasn’t offered one. Thad had been tempted, really tempted, but couldn’t bring himself to use a woman that way. He wanted a woman to come to him freely, not because she was forced to. His twenty first century morals were still alive and well within him despite his dealings with Philo. There were times in quiet moments that he cringed at the actions he took, but then he would think of Marco and he would accept it as part of who he was now.
They were heading into their third year back in time and by now, the future was a long-forgotten dream. Both men carried the heavy sorrow of their losses but their lives were in this time and that is where they committed themselves. There were many times when Dean and Thad talked about old times and what they would be doing now, if they were back in their own time. Sometimes, though, it became painful and they would avoid the subject. Both were antsy to get back to the games, because then they could earn money. They had become almost obsessed with earning coin to buy their freedom. It was all they talked about and all they dreamed about.
Dean was still a fan favorite and Thad thought that perhaps soon, his friend would be buying his freedom. It was a shock when in mid-summer, Dean had been brought to the hospital, bent over in pain. He held his gut, his face pale and sheened with sweat. Zaza brought him to the physician and had sent for Thad. When Thad got to the medicus he saw his friend on the low table and went over to him. Dean’s face was a rictus of
