Chapter 11

Krista had skipped breakfast, as well as most of the previous night's sleep, to fix the tear in her tunic that was keeping it from staying in place.

Her fingers were numb and scabs had begun to form over her knuckles where she had split her skin open on the Gaul's face.

Krista wished she would have split her skin by fighting the Commander but she didn't. And she would always know that.

She would always know that she was too weak to fight him.

Aided by the sunlight that filtered in through the archways in the arcade outside their room, Krista couldn't seem to grasp the sewing needle firmly enough to mesh the ends back together.

Her patience was wearing thin when she dropped the needle again.

Biting out a curse to the Gods, Krista re-threaded her needle and attempted to heal the tear in the fabric on her shoulder only to send the sharp point into her soft flesh.

"Ow!" Krista hissed when memories of the Commander's flesh against hers sprang free from the hold she had put them in.

"Quiet!" Krista snapped her head to the side as she pushed the memories away. They would not help her in her quest for revenge.

She had to be patient and free of emotion if she was to succeed.

Remembering what the Commander had done to her added fire to her cause but it also made her irritable and blocked her mind; she would be killed in an instant if she could not think clearly.

"Krista?" A quiet voice squeaked outside her room.

Krista shifted her body to the side until they could not see her face and she went back to the torn fabric.

If she did not fix this then she had no choice but to wander around naked until she was fitted for armour.

"Krista." The voice squeaked again but this time with more confidence as the figure stepped forward into her room.

"Leave," Krista growled under her breath; she didn't care who it was but she did not want to see them, "Now."

"I- I can help." The voice spoke again but Krista only grew angrier that they hadn not heeded her warning.

"Are you deaf!?" Krista shoutef over her shoulder to see Myra stood under her archway, her doe-like brown eyes watching Krista intently.

"I- I don't mean to intrude-" Myra began.

"-Then don't." Krista sighed as her anger lost its strength when she remembered what Myra had been through.

"It's just that I-" Myra trailed off for a second causing Krista to break away from her stitching to gaze up at Myra questioningly, "-I could fix that for you." Myra pointed a finger towards the tear in Krista's tunic.

But before Krista could utter a word, Myra had knelt in front of Krista and taken the needle from her trembling fingers.

Krista clasped her hand shut when she saw how much she was trembling, narrowing her gaze at Myra who looked up at her with sympathy.

"You do not need to hide it from me." Myra looked away as she undid Krista's shaky work.

"I do not hide anything." Krista lifted her head up and gazed outside.

It would soon be time for training and Krista could not wait until she felt that sword in her palm, so that she knew her place in the world once more.

Even if the sword was made from wood.

"You forget," Myra let out a soft chuckle as she grew comfortable in Krista's presence, "I have been through the same thing many a night since entering servitude. You can talk to me."

Krista's blood boiled, "And what makes you think that I want to talk?"

Myra sighed as if she had seen the same thing a thousand times, "Shall I start the topic?" Myra glanced up at Krista, waiting for a sign she should continue.

When no sign came, Myra spoke anyway. "I saw you hurrying out of the Commander's room . . . do you deny it?"

"You were watching me?" Krista glared at Myra.

"I merely happened to be walking past at the ri- wrong time." Myra chose her words carefully, "Did he . . .?"

"No." Krista bristled as someone she barely knew invoked on her privacy.

"Krista." Myra sighed as she thought Krista was holding back, "You can speak to-"

"-He did not get that far!" Krista turned her head away from Myra and looked back out towards the corridor that would lead her to the training grounds; the one place she longed to be and the one place she could find Lazarus.

He would remind her of who she was; a Gladiatrix.

"But he did force himself onto your person?" Myra nodded her head slowly when Krista did not respond, as if it was answer enough, "Did you fight?"

Krista's eyes grew wide with rage as Myra brought the one thought Krista wanted to forget to the forefront of her mind.

"Good." Myra nodded her head slowly.

Krista frowned.

"Take it from me," Myra bit the end off of the thread after she tied off the stitch, "Fighting makes it worse." Myra got to her feet gracefully.

Krista was surprised by how peaceful this young girl was; she was barely of age and, if her words were correct, defiled more times than Krista could imagine and yet she held no ill will against her captors.

Gazing upon her long dark locks, that fell in loose waves to her shoulders, and her petite frame, Krista wondered how such a small thing could hold such strength.

Krista found herself, oddly, admiring the young girl.

"Soon," Krista got to her feet, running the tips of her fingers over the stitches Myra had made; they were so small and tight it was hard to see they were even there, "I will kill all those who deem themselves our masters."

Myra's lips parted softly in shock and hope.

"And all those that had done you harm in the past," Krista gazed hesitatingly into the girl's eyes, "They will meet with a similar fate to the Gaul's."

The air between them was warm with mutual trust when a shadow was suddenly cast over their figures.

Krista gazed up at Lazarus, breathing hard as he rested his hands against either side of the wall for support.

"Krista, you must come." Lazarus panted hard.

"What is it?" Krista saw hesitation, as well as suspense, in his eyes.

"It's Artorius." Lazarus swallowed.

Before he had even finished his sentence, Krista had pushed Lazarus's broad figure aside and sprinted down the corridor.

She didn't know where she was going but her feet were leading her in the direction of the training arena.

"Krista! Wait!"

Lazarus was shouting at her but she was too fast for his fatigued body.

She had just turned a corner when she barrelled into a crowd that had gathered around the arena.

"Let me pass!" Krista shouted at her fellow gladiators when the sound of a whip cracking through the air had her feet freezing to the spot and a wave of fear crashing through her entire being.

"Move!" Krista screamed when she could feel her feet again.

Breaking free from the suffocating crowd, Krista came to a halt as she gazed upon the scene.

Guards were positioned around the arena, keeping gladiators at bay, as the man in the middle inflicted pain on his victim.

Krista could not believe what she was seeing as her eyes gazed upon the Commander's red coat; his back was to her but the whip in his hand was as clear as day.

He had just pulled his arm back, the whip curling behind him before it eventually fell upon the bare back of Artorius, Champion of Greece.

"No!" Krista screamed when she saw Artorius strung up to a training post, blood pouring down his spine from multiple strikes.

"Krista!" Lazarus's voice was against her ear as his arms wrapped around her waist, keeping her back as she tried to run to him.

"We have to stop him!" Krista growled under her breath, gaining control over her emotions even as she couldn't take her eyes off of Artorius.

"You'll only make it worse." Lazarus growled in her ear, keeping a firm hold over her raged body, "It'll be over in a minute, just . . . wait."

"What did he do?" Krista did not flinch when the whip struck Artorius again; she was a Gladiatrix and would never flinch again even despite the pain she felt to see Artorius hurt so.

"Krista . . ."

She could tell that Lazarus was not sure whether to tell her or not.

"He threw-" Lazarus took a breath, "He threw a spear at the Commander during training."

Krista gazed upon Artorius, his arms chained above his head and his forehead resting against the wood, with new light.

Artorius had seen her leaving the commander's rooms the night before.

He had seemed angry when she left hin but she could not imagine that he would do such a rash action for her.

Artorius could be sentenced to death for attacking a Roman Commander.

If not death then Artorius would be relinquished of the glory it meant to perform in the arena.

Krista lost her breath momentarily at the impact of the latest swing, the crack of the whip echoing around them.

As the sound of Artorius's punishment rang through her body, the full implications of his actions, for her honour, began to sink in.

He would no longer be a gladiator; no longer the champion of Greece.

Krista pushed Lazarus's arms away from her and stepped forward, trying to get as close to Artorius as possible.

Even as her mind tried to comprehend why he would do such a thing, she could not help but feel responsible.

* * *

It seemed an entire day had passed before the whippings finished.

Krista's hopes had already been raised once when the Commander walked away, but he had simply passed the whip onto one of his guards when his arm grew too tired to continue.

Krista fingers were curled into a fist by her side as the gladiators were forced to watch the punishment as a warning to others who were thinking of standing out against their regime.

Krista did not think her heart could take much more anger and despise for the Commander, but she was wrong. Her heart could take a lot more rage than she had thought.

"Take him to the dungeon!" Niclaus waved his hand in dismissal as the guard's unchained Artorius from the post, "We shall continue after supper."

Artorius was so weak and broken he could not stand. His body had to be dragged across the arena.

Krista's heart twisted for the humiliation he had to be feeling.

But as the crowds were beginning to part, forced back to training, Krista couldn't keep her eyes off Artorius until finally, his heavy lids lifted and he gazed straight at her.

His eyes were direct but filled with pain.

She yearned to help him.

"Krista?" Lazarus spoke her name softly but she did not hear the cautiousness in his voice.

"We need to help him." Krista spun to face her friend, hoping he would aid her but Lazarus wasn't looking at her.

"Lazarus?" Krista followed his gaze and saw the Senator from the previous evening; the same senator that had interrupted the Commander from-

"-Gladiatrix Krista." The Senator looked at her, his eyes glimmering with the knowledge of where he had found her yesterday.

Krista looked at Lazarus in fear the Senator would tell him.

"Walk with me." The senator turned his back on her and started to walk towards the back of Ludus Magnus, expecting her to follow him.

Find Artorius.

Krista mouthed the words at Lazarus but she did not hold any hopes of him finding the dungeons; the Guards were on high alert after the attempted attack.

Krista did not dare speak out as the senator led her away from the masses and through many seemingly endless corridors.

But the further from civilisation they grew the more Krista's stomach began to churn with fear; had the Commander ordered the Senator to collect her to finish what he started?

Krista risked a glance behind her but she could not run. She had nowhere to run to.

"In here." The senator turned and stretched out his arm towards a doorway that led down a few steps into a darkened pantry.

Shelves were lined with various foods that had Krista's mouth-watering; she had never seen so much food since the street banquet her village had held when she was younger.

And even then there had not been nearly as much as this.

The sight made Krista angry. Half the country was starving and yet Rome held more than enough food to feed them all, and still have plenty left over.

"Greetings, Krista." A soft feminine voice spoke from the darkness.

Krista turned to face a hooded figure, that was only now visible to her ill-adjusted eyes.

The torches in the room had been blown out and no windows offered any light to provide Krista with an answer to who this woman was.

"Do not be afraid." The woman spoke again as Krista heard her take another step forward, "I only wish to speak with you."

"Who are you?" Krista looked over her shoulder, locating the door where the Senator was still waiting outside.

"You may recognise me from the day before last." The woman's voice was soft and held a certain catch at the end of each word that placed her in the nobility.

"Magnus?" The woman called behind Krista to the senator.

"Your Grace?"

Your grace? Krista frowned.

"Would you be so kind as to light a torch for us." There was an awkward silence as Senator Magnus tried to decide the best course of action, "It is quite alright, Magnus. Krista does not wish me any har.,"

Krista raised an eyebrow at the comment. Who was she to try and know Krista's mind?

"Very well, my lady." The senator replied with a dutiful tone as he lit a torch and stepped back outside, leaving them to their conversation.

Making her face void of emotion, Krista turned back to face the hooded figure.

As they began to pull their hood back, slowly and gracefully, the first thing that Krista noticed was the long shimmering golden waves that fell over the woman's shoulders and fell all the way to her narrow waist.

After her hair followed the glittering gold that hung around her neck and dangled from her ears, indicating immense wealth, along with the light pink lips that protruded out effortlessly from flawless skin.

But it was the eyes that captured Krista's attentions; they were so blue Krista could have sworn that she saw waves crashing inside of them.

They made Krista shiver when she remembered where she had seen those eyes before.

She may not be wearing her golden laurel wreath or the same dress but Krista could never forget those eyes or the way they cut directly through you.

"Empress." Krista whispered in shock as she quickly bowed her head like the slave she was, remembering her place.

"I brought you here, Krista of Rome, because I have a proposition I would like you to accept." The Empress spoke softly and Krista slowly lifted her gaze to see that the Empress was smiling.

It was a smile that told of secrets and hidden truths.

Another shiver ran over Krista's body, but this time it wasn't because of the colour of the Empress's eyes.

* * *

"I have one condition," Krista, the Gladiatrix, soon said after hearing Pompeia's proposal.

Senator Magnus had been right about her, maybe their plan would work after all.

"Name it." Pompeia said with joy as the first piece of her puzzle was set in motion, "And it shall be done."

And so here she was, holding her cape tight around her body as Magnus led her through the bowels of Ludus Magnus.

Magnus's greed could be seen purely in his name for the school; Ludus Magnus.

Pompeia had pulled a face when he had unveiled the monstrosity and yet it was his invention of a school, linked with the arena by a secret tunnel, that breathed life into her dreams.

And just as she had a few months before, Pompeia pulled an equal face of disgust as the smell of faeces and fresh blood travelled up her nose.

On order from the Emperor's sister, the dungeon door was opened and the bloodied and hunched body of Artorius, Champion of Greece, was dragged from his straw bed.

Their path back up from the dungeon was a delightful one as Pompeia could finally breath fresh air once again but she would not be fully content until she was enjoying a warm, rose-scented bath in her room back at the palace.

"Leave us." Pompeia ordered the guards and in a matter of seconds she was left, standing over the bloodied body of the Greek champion.

Pompeia tilted her head, a smirk playing on her lips as she recalled the events that had brought him here.

He had tried to avenge Krista for an act which would have inflicted more harm to her Gladiatrix than any sword could have done.

If Pompeia hadn't sent Magnus in to collect the Commander when she did, Pompeia feared what would have become of the Gladiatrix.

Of course, the Commander did not know that Pompeia had been watching his favourite gladiator from afar. Since she had first spotted Krista in training, Pompeia knew she was special.

And because of what she had done for her, Krista understood that Pompeia was her saviour.

Now she needed Artorius to know the same.

Forcing a look of concern onto her features, Pompeia crouched beside Artorius as he shuddered against the cold mosaic floor of the baths.

"Do not fear me." Pompeia reached out a tentative hand and cupped his cheek, "Upon my order, you are to be no longer harmed."

Pompeia recognised the stark confusion and uncertainty of trust in his eyes as he lifted his head and gazed at her.

She had seen the same thing in Krista's gaze.

"I know why you did what you did," Pompeia pulled her hand back when he tried to sit and pulled away from her.

Even covered in blood, Pompeia saw the way his muscles rippled and her throat grew dry.

Sighing inwardly, Pompeia knew that he cared for Krista and she was counting on those emotions for her plan to work.

But Pompeia would not have minded having a man like him in her personal guard.

"Protect her." Pompeia smiled softly, earning his trust, "She is more important than you know."

"Wh-" Artorius started to convulse, his chest racked with coughs, when Krista appeared behind her, collected by Magnus.

Knowing her time was at an end with the wounded champion, Pompeia rose to her feet and prayed it had been enough.

"Do not exert yourself." Pompeia smiled at Artorius, before adding in a hushed tone, "We shall speak soon."

Standing up straight she spun around and met Krista at the bath doors.

Krista's dark brown hair fell in matted curls just past her ample breasts and despite her lowly upbringing her looks hadn't suffered for it.

"Go to him." Pompeia saw the raw emotion in Krista's eyes.

Krista took a step forward.

"Just remember our deal." Pompeia reminded her.

Krista's eyes turned to Pompeia with controlled rage, knowing she did what she had to do to save Artorius.

Nodding her head solemnly at the Empress, Krista rushed past Pompeia and fell to the ground beside Artorius.

Once at the door, Pompeia turned and looked back at her two gladiators.

Brought together by chance, destiny had entwined their hearts.

Pompeia thought that Cupid would be rather pleased with the work she had done.

But she doubted he would like the way one of them was going to die at the end.