Chapter 23

Leonidas bristled at Artorius's request. He stood, before the gates, about to exit onto the sands of a new age and now the Champion of Greece was asking this of him!?
Peering through the many square holes in the gate's design, Leonidas looked out onto the golden sand even as he remembered the training session with the Gladiatrix Krista. He remembered her being rather good. She was one of a handful of people who had been able to strike him and as he thought about it now the skin across his back grew cold. 

He also remembered thinking she was a creature of pride so he doubted she would take too kindly to Artorius's request of him but then, after recent events, he doubted this would even register for her. The events of the previous day had rocked the foundations of Rome and her entire empire.

The crowds were no longer bloodthirsty for the games. They did not chant nor cheer, instead they stood sombre and eerily silent. The majority of people were dressed in black as their gazes were fixed upon the royal box, looking for guidance on how to proceed in these terrible times. 

But whilst the people mourned the slaves knew better. Leonidas remembered that beautiful lively creature he had help train and anger at how she, and the rest of them, were being treated began to engulf his entire body. I shall give them something to look at, he thought.

Artorius's words suddenly seemed very reasonable. The sword in his palm now felt like a heavy burden which Leonidas wished to quickly relieve himself of instead of the object he had come to see as a friend and what had saved his life on numerous occasions. Coming to terms with what he was about to do, knowing it was for something greater than himself, he gave Artorius a small nod and walked out onto the sands with a new agenda. An agenda passed onto him, and many others, from Artorius.

The dry sand crunched loudly beneath his sandals as he walked. It was foreign for him to hear his own footsteps - they were usually drowned out by the cheering of the crowd - so much so that it almost felt like a strike against his chest with each step he took as the masses remained silent. Leonidas could hear his own heart raging inside his chest whilst the atmosphere in the amphitheatre felt thick with tension. 

For the first time since he entered the arena Leonidas could feel every pair of eyes on him. It felt as if they were pushing him into the ground. It was almost surreal the way the faceless crowd gazed down upon him, judging him for the actions of another and willing to hold him accountable if only so that they could feel somewhat better about themselves as they perceived justice to have been served. 

Following the ritual of the arena Leonidas bowed before the royal box and offered them his sword as his opponent was released from across the arena. Turning to look behind him Leonidas gripped his sword tight as he gazed upon the athletic figure of Cato. A gladiator from Ludus Dacicus, Cato's mixed-race complexion shone comfortably beneath the sun and he held himself in such confidence it was as if he belonged there. His face, soft at the edges, was blank of emotion as he strode towards him.
Cato was a skilled warrior that many feared to face in battle with his cool demeanour and flair for the extreme.

A slight sliver of unease crept into Leonidas's chest as Cato performed the same ritual before the royal box much like he had done a moment ago. Leonidas found himself gripping his sword tighter as he wondered if Cato would play along to Artorius's plans. Leonidas did not know if the instructions had reached the other gladiator schools, and if they hadn't then Leonidas was surely going to be killed after what he was about to do. 

Cato looked at Leonidas briefly and as he did so Leonidas saw that his eyes were the colour of bronze but beneath that there was a hint of a secret lying beneath the surface. Perhaps Cato did know about the plan after all, Leonidas thought with hope as the spokesman for the arena started to speak, setting the scene, though his voice lacked its usual emphasis. 

As he spoke Leonidas and Cato shared a look of moral rightness as they each tried to judge who should go first. After a moment Leonidas took the first step and turned to face the auditor, ordering him to halt his monologue. The man was stunned into silence as a collective gasp resounded around the crowd. Turning to the royal box Leonidas kept Cato in his peripheral vision just in case this was a trick and raised his sword.  His voice was strong and powerful as he declared to the thousands, "I, Leonidas, Gladiator of Ludus Magnus, hereby surrender!" 

The result was a physical wave of shock as the silent crowds began to mutter between themselves. Leonidas's heart beat faster as he trod a dangerous path, which was made worse as he threw his sword into the sand at the Empress's feet. Memories of Krista flooded his mind with rightness as he looked over his shoulder at Cato and awaited his response. His muscles were tensed in case of an attack as Cato took a step towards him but he need not have worried as Cato's sword joined his on the ground. 

"I, Cato, surrender to Leonidas!" 

Relief flooded Leonidas's chest momentarily before it was quickly replaced with angst and uncertainty. He was not sure how the empress and senates would respond to this open rebellion against them but he knew it wasn't going to be good. 

One day previous ...

Krista awoke that morning with a strange feeling. For the first time since Lazarus's death she had dreamt of something other than Pompeia and Lazarus, instead her moment with Artorius now plagued her sleep. She could see the way Artorius looked upon her, his eyes filled with disgust towards her as if she was a vessel for pure anger and violence and incapable of feeling anything else. 

She knew he was wrong because she had felt a tirade of emotions through her short life ranging from pure happiness as a child to devastation when her family were killed as well as fear, hope and laughter with Lazarus. Now she could feel a new emotion starting to fill her up but that was a certain feeling she could never let him know about because the moment she did then she would no longer be feared. 

As a woman in the arena she struggled daily to be accepted by her male counterparts. They viewed women as someone for them to have sex with and serve them food only, not someone to stand beside them and hold a sword. They perceived women to be weak and still did, despite how many times she had proved herself in the same arena as them. She knew that Artorius could not be grouped together with all the other men there because Krista knew he was different but she also knew that the main reason he had spotted her in the first place was because of her reluctance to swoon before him. He already saw her as someone who needed protecting and if she told him what she was feeling he would see her as a weak female and Krista could not bear that. She had gone through too much to lose it now, especially as the games were starting to draw to a close and she could almost see her freedom within her grasp.

It was also not lost on her that only one gladiator was to be granted their freedom. If Artorius was not killed by someone else first then she would have to fight him and she could not have any doubts or second thoughts. Avenging her family must be her first priority and yet there was still a small part of her that wanted to reach out to him, if only for physical human contact.
Maybe it was instinctual for humans to look for comfort in times of pain and turmoil, or maybe it was because Krista felt truly alone in the world.

As Krista sat through her meal that morning she begrudged Artorius everything, trying to help convince herself of what she needed to do if they should meet upon the sands that day. With her head bent forward over her bowl Krista let her hair fall all around her as she created a curtain between herself and the rest of the world. It was a sign to everyone around her that she wanted to be left alone but it was especially meant for Artorius who was sat alone on the bench across from her. 

The seating area had grown spacious these last few days as the gladiators at Ludus Magnus were dwindling down to the last handful. Spread out across the half dozen long benches everyone sat alone as they began to distance themselves from each other but still all their eyes lingered on her, she could feel their gazes on her back. The hostility in the air was thick as they were no doubt thinking of what she done with Domita and wondering why she had let the other gladiator live. Krista knew that they must be thinking it was her 'female mind' which made her do it which was the exact thoughts  she was trying to get away from. But no one dared to ask her about it so she kept her mouth shut. 

Krista just hoped that they continued to leave her alone as she raised the spoon to her mouth and swallowed but it was short lived when, through the curtain of hair in front of her eyes, she spotted someone slide onto the bench in front of her and the abundant way in which they did it told Krista immediately who it was. 

"So, it looks like it just you and me left" Frieda rapped her hands on the table before she paused for dramatic purposes and pointed a finger at Krista, "Oh wait, no it isn't because someone let Domita live." Frieda scoffed as she arched her eyebrows and tilted her head to the side, waiting for an explanation. 

"She surrendered," Krista told her as she raised another spoonful of food to her mouth. If she was eating then she couldn't speak.

"So?" Frieda frowned as she staring at Krista in confusion. 

Lifting her head, Krista let her curtains of hair fall away from her face and she glared at Frieda. Her eyes creased at the corners in anger as she almost dared Frieda to say another word. 

"Okay fine, I surrender," Frieda laughed as she held her hands up beside her which just made Krista roll her eyes and turn back to her food. She hated this Briton at times. 

"Well, what you did," Frieda leaned in excitedly, "All of Rome is talking about it."

"Let them talk," Krista sighed, not seeing the urgency Frieda obviously felt at the situation as she looked over her right shoulder and glanced at Artorius. His head was down with his spoon half raised from his bowl to his lips but Krista knew that he was only pretending to eat as he listened intently to their conversation. His spoon hadn't moved in the last five minutes.  

Frieda could not understand how Krista did not see the impact that her action in the arena had caused. She may be a gladiator but she was also a slave and she had not done what she was ordered to do and that, in the eyes of Rome, was an act of rebellion. She was about to say this when she noticed Krista staring at something over her shoulder and Frieda knew instantly who she was looking at. Frieda had seen him when she walked in. 

"I do not know what you see in him," Frieda sighed and Krista snapped her eyes quickly back to look at her. 

"I-"

"-Please," Frieda held her hand up, "Do us both a favour and do not try to deny it. The man puts himself in harms way for you and you're almost falling at his feet."

"You do not understand but I am most certainly not falling at his feet," Krista glared at her. 

"Good," Frieda smiled, "Because you might need to kill him one day."

"I can't wait to kill you one day," Krista rolled her eyes. 

"That's the spirit!" Frieda exclaimed loudly as she lent across and jokingly punched Krista in the shoulder, everyone turning to look at them, "But you couldn't kill me if you tried." Frieda clicked her tongue, winking as she did so. 

Krista actually found herself laughing, "Oh I'm sure-" 

She did not get to finish her sentence when Myra came hurtling into the room overcome with panic as she fell against Krista's table. Everyone in the room stopped eating and turned to watch them. Krista stared at her in confusion as it looked like Myra had just run across the entire length of Rome to reach her.

Frieda's face contorted in mild disgust as she reached out and carefully lifted Myra's arm with her thumb and forefinger, moving it away from where it touched her skin. "Is it yours?" Frieda gave Krista a sideways glance as she wiped her hand on the table, leaning away from the sweaty slave girl.

Krista shot the Albion a look before she turned back to the petrified face of Myra, "What is it?" she asked. 

"They're coming," Myra gasped as she looked over her shoulder at the doorway, "You need to go!" She shouted. 

Krista knew instantly who she meant and she  looked across at Artorius. He had risen to his feet and was already looking at her when she turned her head and their eyes locked. He was worried for her but Krista did not know what to do. There was nowhere she could go, she was trapped, but did she want to leave? Maybe this was the answer to her problems.  Before she could react the sound of heavy armoured footsteps filled the rooms.

"They're here!" Myra cried. 

"Fucking Romans," Frieda hissed in anger as she rose to her feet. She knew that Krista's actions would not have been well received and the Romans only knew one way to respond; violence.
"Are you going to be using this?" Frieda asked Krista as she pointed to the empty food bowl in front of her but she didn't wait for her to reply before she snapped it up, "No, good."
Taking a step towards the door Frieda began to pass the bowl back and forth between her hands as she warmed herself up for a fight. 

Artorius was still just looking at her as four soldiers entered the room but she wished he wouldn't. After everything that had happened he still thought it was best to be scared for her when the only thing that had come from his worrying had been Lazarus's death and his own unfortunate situation with the Empress. Krista thought he would have learnt by now. 

"Come on then," Frieda yelled as she raised the wooden food bowl beside her but the guards just looked between themselves in confusion, "Krista run!"

"Frieda stop," Krista shook her head when a soldier stepped forward to collect her but Frieda jumped in front of him to block his way. The soldier's hand was on his sword and he was prepared to use it. Which was a shame because Krista would have liked to see an Albion fighting  Roman guards with a wooden food bowl. 

"What about the games?" Frieda asked as she grasped Krista's arm to stop her from going any further, "You've come all this way." 

"And where would I run to?" Krista asked her but Frieda couldn't answer that because they both knew that there was nowhere for her to go. Wrenching her arm back from Frieda's tight grip, Krista didn't utter another word as she walked around the Albion's small frame and went with the guards. Krista did not look back at Artorius as she left. She did not need to reinforce his thoughts that she was weak and afraid so she walked out with the guards with her head held high and her shoulders back. 

They walked out of Ludus Magnus and into the palace with one guard on either side of her with the other two following behind. Krista was so familiar with the sound of their armoured footsteps that she stopped noticing it until she was half way down an open arched walkway and she realised that she was now walking alone. Turning around Krista looked for the guards and found that they had stopped at the entrance to the arcade. Their backs were to her as they trapped her inside.

Uncertain of what was happening the hair on her arms started to rise as a chilling tingle ran down her spine. Her previous excursions to the palace had been under heavy guard but now they left her within the Empress's personal vicinity with no supervision? Something about this entire affair did not sit right with her but she could not turn back now. Resuming her walk to Pompeia's bedroom Krista wondered if this is what happened with Artorius every time Pompeia wanted company. Did she sent armoured guards for him as well and leave him to walk alone?

Looking out through the arches Krista could see the sky brightening and hear the crowds cheering in the Colosseum as the games were opened for the day. Krista thought of Artorius and Frieda waiting in the cells underneath the amphitheatre for their turn to walk on the sands and not knowing if it was to be their last.
She could have been down there right now too waiting for the same thing in the hopes to get one step closer to Pompeia but the empress had taken it out of the equation for her. Krista tried to remain calm and controlled as anger started to bubble up within her. 

She didn't have a weapon but she would not need one to kill her. Pompeia was not a fighter, she would not put up much of a struggle. Krista looked back over her shoulder at the guards at the entrance. They were far enough away that they wouldn't hear a quiet struggle so if Krista could strike quickly then her revenge was closer at hand than she thought, and it was all of Pompeia's making. Pompeia was bringing her own murderer to her. 

Krista doubted she would be able to escape afterwards and even if she did there would be no question as to who had committed the murder but she did not care about that right then. Her footsteps on the marble floor didn't click but they crunched, as if she was in the arena walking towards Lazarus's beaten and broken body. Krista closed her eyes mere feet away from the Empress's doorway as she tried to keep her memories at bay. They would do her no good; Krista needed to remain calm if she wished to gain her revenge.

Society dictated that as a slave Krista should wait to be called in but Pompeia already knew she was coming and to Krista it seemed worth it to put Pompeia ill at ease with her open defiance. The room was large with a high ceiling and furniture of all colours placed throughout the area. Silk curtains bellowed inwards from the balcony as they got caught in the early morning breeze. Her eyes roamed over the unmade bed. 

"Aah, you're here," Pompeia rose from where she had been draped across the chaise, her leg dangling idly over the edge and her dress bundled up around her thighs. As she stood the drapes of her white dress fell to the floor. Krista spotted the empty golden chalice in her hand and the flushed look to her skin that came from drinking. She teetered a little on her feet as she leaned forward to pick up the decanter and refill her cup. 

"I do hope that this place does not cause you too much discomfort," Pompeia sighed, her words meant to hurt her but Krista would not be lured in. "But you must take solace in the knowledge that everything Artorius did with me, he did it for you." Pompeia raised the cup towards her as if in a toast but her voice was bitter as she said it before she placed the rim against her lips and drank the entire contents in a few gulps, her body swaying as she did so. Krista watched her in disgust. 

"I take solace knowing that the only way you could persuade Artorius to lie with you was by threatening him," Krista retorted, using Pompeia's choice of word even though she felt nothing resembling solace or peace. The mask of concern that Pompeia was trying hard to keep in place slowly faded and anger took its place. Pompeia took a step towards her, her fingers curled menacingly  around the cup, when Krista heard someone in the corridor. 

Pompeia's eyes widened as a second later she heard it too and she hurried to place the cup in her hand back on the tray. Krista's brows furrowed a little as she watched Pompeia flit about the room when the person in the corridor walked in and Krista bowed her head when she saw who it was. 

"Pompeia?" Titus called out as he navigated around the person stood just inside the doorway. As he looked around the room he found Pompeia stood awkwardly before him, her hands hurriedly brushing her hair out so that the long blonde lengths fell over her shoulders. 

"Aah, brother," Pompeia side-stepped around the table, her arms held out in a loving greeting but Titus held up a finger, his suspicious gaze looking her over, "Titus, what is it?" Pompeia asked. 

From the outskirts Krista watched the interlude with interest as Titus leaned around his sister and spotted the wine decanter and empty cup on the table but he said nothing. He simply gave his sister a disapproving sideways glance before he turned his back and strode across her room whilst a nerve in Pompeia's jaw twitched in anger and her eyes shot daggers at his back. 

"I came to see you before I leave as you asked," Titus said as he idly examined some parchments on Pompeia's writing desk but his eyes lingered on certain parts for someone who was just passing the time. 

"Thank you Titus," Pompeia replied as she walked towards him, the previous anger on her now gone and Krista was struck by how easily this woman could change. She was a true manipulator, Krista thought as she watched Pompeia speak to her brother in hushed tones. 

Titus, with his black hair thinning at the top, wore the body of a well fed man with his stomach starting to stretch the gold rope around his waist. His eyes were the darkest brown and his nose was slightly drooped as if it had been broken a few times in childhood. Krista wondered if Pompeia had done that.
His sister on the other hand stood in finery and golden jewellery and looked the exact opposite with her long tendrils of golden hair and blue eyes that could rival the deepest oceans.

"Enough," Titus snapped in anger, placing his hands on Pompeia's shoulders, "I must leave. Now where is this warrior you insisted that I must have travel with me?" 

Krista quickly looked away as Pompeia pointed towards her and she slowly saw the picture coming into full colour as she understood why she had been brought here. Her heart was beating fast in her chest as she realised that she had not been brought here to be punished- or perhaps she had, but just not in the way she had assumed. Pompeia wanted Titus to take Krista away with him and thus take her away from her too. All of Krista's chances of vengeance would disappear. She could not let this happen. 

"Right here dear brother," Pompeia stretched out her arm towards Krista and Titus stared at her with concern.

"Have you taken leave of your senses, sister?" He shouted at Pompeia as Krista remained paralysed to the spot, "She is a woman!"

Normally his words would have angered Krista but his response was exactly what she needed. If Titus refused to have her go then she could remain in Rome close to Pompeia. 

"Have you not seen her upon the sands?" Pompeia asked her brother, "Is she not a worthy fighter?"

"Do not be stupid Pompeia," Titus shook his head, "Battle is entirely different to the arena. I need loyal men behind me not slaves that would slit my throat the moment I am asleep! Not to mention that if I rode out with a woman as my protector I will become the laughing stock of the senate!"

"I just thought that-" 

"Well you thought wrong," Titus looked to the ceiling in despair as he shook his head, "Like always." As Krista heard his words her chest deflated in relief. He would not take her with him, which is exactly what Krista wanted. Now she could stay in Rome and win her freedom.

"Think about it, Titus," Pompeia implored him. 

She was almost smiling in elation until she looked up and saw Titus stop in front of her, his eyes travelling over her curiously as if he was having second doubts. Krista's breath caught in her throat and she stared straight ahead. 

Titus was still looking at her when Krista heard a noise which did not belong in the empress's bedroom. It was the sound of scraping; it was something she heard all the time in the arena but it did not feel right to hear it here when she spotted movement across the room. Looking out of the corner of her eye, Krista saw only Pompeia with her right arm behind her back as she slowly walked towards them. Her face, which moments ago had been serene and encouraging, was now stone faced with her eyes settled upon Titus's back. A feeling of unease grew in Krista's stomach as the emperor suddenly burst out laughing, the absurd idea of taking Krista as a bodyguard making him laugh. 

"Pompeia you are out of your mind if you think-" Titus turned to face his sister but stopped when she reached out and roughly grabbed him by the shoulder, "What are you doing?" He asked as he turned his head to look at her hand. 

"Something that I've wanted to do for years," Pompeia told him as she moved her hand out from behind her back to reveal a long silver dagger and, before either of them could move, she jutted her arm forward into Titus's stomach. 

Krista felt paralysed in shock as she watched Pompeia stab the emperor. Titus cried out in pain as he raised his arms and wrapped his hands around her bare throat, trying to strangle her. Pompeia's eyes widened, her upper lip pulling back in anger, as she pulled her arm back and stabbed him again. Titus gasped in pain as Pompeia twisted the dagger in her brother's gut, his body slumping forward against her as his hands slipped from her throat. Letting go of his shoulder Pompeia watched his body drop to the floor with a smile on her lips, a trail of blood smeared down her white dress.

Staring down at his body in horror Krista saw that he was still alive as he rolled over onto his stomach and tried to crawl away, his arms outstretched in front of him as he looked towards the door. Pompeia and Krista just stood and watched as Titus tried to escape but the blood was pouring from his gut too fast and his body started to convulse as he gulped for air. He reminded Krista of a fish out of water with his wide eyes and his mouth gasping for air. After a few more seconds his body stopped shaking, his head rolled back and his eyes stared up at the ceiling, vacant. 

Dazed Krista looked up from Titus's body at Pompeia who stood there with a satisfied smile on her lips as if she had just done something that everyone told her she could not do. She had killed the Emperor of the Roman Empire, her brother, with Krista witnessing it. Panicking, Krista inhaled sharply and it felt as if it was the first breath she had taken since the attack began. Looking around her, Krista realised she had to get out of there. As she took a step back towards the door, Pompeia started to talk. 

"I never realised he would bleed so much," Pompeia let out a small chuckle as she gazed at her dress which was now covered in red. Her face showed no concern, only mild interest, as she walked forward through the pool of blood and prodded her brother's body with her foot. 

As Pompeia focused on her brother Krista took another step back. She was only a few feet away from the door when Pompeia snapped her head up and look at her, "Where do you think you're going?" Pompeia asked. 

Krista froze and stared Pompeia out. 

"Here, catch," Pompeia grabbed the dagger by the hilt and hurled it at Krista. Instinctively Krista reached out and caught it before it imbedded itself in her shoulder, the handle smeared with Titus's blood. The moment she caught it she knew what she had done and her fingers unclasped instantly, the dagger clattering to the floor loudly as her heart began to race. 

Krista's lips parted in shock as she looked at Pompeia and saw her true face, the one that showed her pride and satisfaction of killing her brother, get replaced with one of tortured grief. As if on cue tears began to roll down her cheeks as she threw herself down beside her brothers body sobbing uncontrollably into his chest. 

Krista stared at the dagger by her feet and then at Pompeia. It would only take a few seconds to pick the dagger up and slit her throat but as she started to bend down and pick it up Pompeia screamed. 

"Guards!" 

Abandoning the knife Krista turned to run and she ran straight into a line of guards who had been waiting outside the door. Their hands clamped around her arms like vices, yanking them behind her back so hard that when she struggled it felt like she was going to dislocate her shoulders. 

"She killed my brother, your emperor!" Pompeia pointed her finger straight at Krista.

"No!" Krista struggled gritting her teeth against the pain as she started to be dragged away. "It was her. She did it!" Krista screamed but in the next moment something hard hit her on the side of the head and everything went dark.