Chapter 34 

Pompeia ran the tips of her fingers across the thin skin of her throat, her body still shaking as she felt where Krista had been ready to squeeze the life from her.

She had no doubt in her mind that, had Gaius not captured Frieda, Krista would have continued.

Seeing the stark hatred in Krista’s eyes unnerved Pompeia as she grasped the edge of her desk, trying to steady herself as she glared down at the map.

Pompeia could only imagine the scene as over two hundred roman soldiers stormed through the forest and burnt down their camp; killing the men, women and children who had defied their Empress.

And she could only hope beyond her wildest dreams that Krista was caught up in the blaze although it was hard to think of how anyone could survive the a wall of death that Pompeia had sent.

Though, if someone was to survive her army it would be Krista, just to spite her.

“Empress,” Gaius walked to her side, bowing his head.

“She will stop at nothing to kill me,” Pompeia whispered as it finally dawned on her that Krista would do anything to strike her from this world and all because Pompeia had ordered the death of someone she loved.

“She will not come within a mile of you, I promise,” Gaius informed her.

“A mile?” Pompeia scoffed, “She was able to get within a foot of me and nobody noticed!”

Gaius had the decency to look ashamed.

“How was that possible?” Pompeia paced the length of the room, replaying the scene over in her head.

“Krista and her men stole Roman uniforms, they-”

“Krista and ‘her men’?” Pompeia looked at Gaius over her shoulder with anger, “You sound just like those sickening peasants that idolise her!”

“I meant no offence,” Gaius calmly replied, “I merely meant that she is smart.”

“Well,” Pompeia turned back to the map though she knew there was nothing she could do except wait, “Soon she shall be dead as well as all those who attempt to aid her."

"Yes, Empress."

"Then they will all see that no one can beat the might of Rome.” 

* * *

Krista could not bear to think of what was happening as she rode harder than ever.

Her heart was aching with the pain of not knowing as the wind bit at her skin and scenery flashed by in her haste to reach Artorius’s side.

Her horse’s hooves barely touched the ground as they flew down the main road, the forest too treacherous at such speeds but Krista no longer cared about who saw them.

She did not think about what would happen when she got there only knowing that it was the place she had to be. Even if it meant she died there, she would die by Artorius's side as they defended the freedom of those brave enough to follow them.

She could not leave them in their hour of need. They had all fled Rome for her and now she was the reason that they were being hunted.

Krista could only pray to the Gods that Artorius still lived as she pushed her horse faster.

 *  

Artorius’s skin grew uncomfortably warm as the fire grew closer, burning through the dry leaves like wildfire.

The sun had long since slipped behind the horizon as the flames spread up the trees, blocking out the moon as branches began to fall from above them, charred to the core.

His skin was slick with sweat and his hair stuck to his skin as he hurried to reinforce the battlements that they had been able to put in place before the slaughter began.

That was over sixteen hours ago and the Romans were still hurtling fire bombs through the sky. It felt as if they were trying to wipe them off the face of the earth.

Spears and arrows had come first, aiming at the retreating women and children, before the fire started between short bursts of hand to hand combat.

They had thus far been able to hold off the advancing army but with their numbers falling, their hope dwindling and fatigue setting in, it was becoming less likely that they would survive this battle.

“Artorius!? Artorius!” A voice choked out against the smoke that plummeted into the sky.

“Keep pressure on it,” Artorius instructed a young lad that he had drafted into their defence the day before and received a sharp wound to his arm in payment.

"Artorius!" Cato raced over. 

“Did they get out?” Artorius grasped Cato by the shoulder, his soul needing to hear some good news, “Did the women and children escape?”

“We got them out,” Cato gasped as he collapsed against a tree, his lungs filled with smoke.

Glancing around him, Artorius swiped a half-empty water skin from the floor and pressed it into Cato's arms as Artorius let himself revel in a moment of relief. They had got out, the news was like music to his ears.  

“But Septimus died on our return,” Cato conveyed the news with regret, taking deep gulps of the cold water to ease his burning chest, “The Romans have us surrounded. They’ll attack from all sides.”

Artorius felt his heart skip a beat as Cato's words fell on him like a boulder; his eyes gazing around at the last twenty men that stood by his side.

The majority of their numbers were made up with men who had never held a sword in their entire lives and almost all of them were injured; they were ripe for the killing and the Roman’s knew it.

They were drawing them out for one last final battle. Pompeia was making an example of them.

“ARROWS!” Someone screamed in warning as a new volley of arrows filled the sky, raining down on them.

The canopy helped to deflect most of them but a few still managed to wedge themselves through and imbed themselves into the ground and the burning trees.

“We need to retreat,” Cato told Artorius as they stood, once there was no sign of another volley.

“No!” Artorius whipped his head back to look at Cato, “We need to give the women and children time to escape."

Cato closed his eyes for a second, not arguing with Artorius, as he handed the water skin to a young boy that passed by them. 

“I’m with you to the end,” Cato caught up with Artorius.

Artorius’s eyes flickered around at the burning forest and the men who were barely holding on by a thread, “Something tells me that we won’t have to wait long,”

“At least,” Artorius sighed, resigning himself to his fate, “Krista isn’t here.”

Artorius took comfort in the fact that Krista would survive this bloodbath. One last defiant act, Artorius vowed to take as many Romans with him as possible but Krista would live.

“Leonidas,” Cato agreed sadly, wishing he could see his face once more but knowing it was not meant to be, “At least, they’ll have each other,” Cato tried to calm his fear.

Artorius reached behind him and grasped Cato by the shoulder, “We will not die in vain; think of the women and children that now run to safety. They need us. Remember them.”

Cato nodded his head jerkily, fighting to control his fears as he was suddenly confronted with his death.

In the arena, death was almost seen as an escape but now that he had tasted freedom, death felt like an ending.

And Cato did not want his story to end so prematurely, but it seemed the Fates had another plan for him.

As signs of another attack grew imminent as arrows and fire bombs filled the night sky, Artoirus released Cato and unsheated his sword in preparation.

“They’ll be coming soon,” Artorius turned to address the troops when there was movement to the east.

“RIDERS!” Someone screamed.

“IT’S ROMANS!” Another cried in fear.

Duty and panic flooded his chest as Artorius realised the Romans had sent in the cavalry he had not known they possessed.

Grasping his sword tightly, Artorius watched the space between two flaming trees, appearing almost like a doorway of fire, as he awaited their appearance.

He heard the sound of hooves galloping against the forest floor right before three horses jumped through the flames, leaping over the top of their heads and landing in the middle of their clearing.

Turning to kill the Roman’s, Artorius froze the moment his gaze fell upon the riders. It was Krista.

“Cato!” Leonidas’s rough voice exclaimed as he leapt from the horse and engulfed his lover in his arms but Artorius only had eyes for Krista who had drawn the gaze of every man, her mere presence increasing their morale.

Artorius looked upon her features with relief and joy at seeing her alive and well.

Dressed in a silver roman uniform, her long dark hair fell over her shoulders and the reflection of fire glittered in her eyes.

But whilst Artorius was glad to see her alive, he was angry that she had returned.

“Artorius,” Krista jumped from the horse and ran to his side but something in his gaze made her halt when she was barely a foot away from him, their breaths mingling until Artorius didn’t know where his ended and hers began.

“Why did you return?” Artorius searched her eyes for an explanation.

Krista watched him with confusion.

“You are the one thing they wanted and by staying away you kept our deaths meaningful,” Artorius snapped, his heart twisting with the thought of seeing Krista die.

“I’m not one to miss a good fight,” Krista tried to keep up her bravado but there was no hint of a smile on her lips and Artorius could hear her voice tremble. 

Artorius did not dare to hope. He had made his feelings for her perfectly clear and yet, whilst she had not denied her feelings for him, she hadn't declared them either.

And yet in that moment, it felt like nothing else in the world mattered; not the fire that raged around them or the army that was about to kill them.

“So you will die with me?” Artorius spoke sombrely, watching Krista closely, “I do not wish that.”

“You can wish nothing of me,” Krista blinked as she fought to keep herself strong, “I do it freely.”

“Krista . . .” Artorius sighed, this was not a time for her to be strong; they may die in a matter of minutes and yet she was still worried about what he thought of her.

“Remember when you said that you would never let me go?” Krista took a step closer, catching his gaze, “Well, I’m not letting you go either.”

“Krista . . .” Artorius closed his eyes in pain as he leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers, “I will not have you die for me. You must leave.”

Artorius felt Krista shake her head, forcing his eyes open.

“You attacked the commander for me, you endured torture for me, you shared a bed with Pompeia for me,” Krista recalled with distaste.

“Krista, you know I didn’t want-”

“-Sssh,” Krista calmed him, she did not wish to reopen old wounds, “You did all of that for me; let me do this for you,”

Artorius and Krista simply looked at each other, their eyes saying everything they could not speak. 

Krista knew that Artorius did not want her there but she did not want him there either, and since neither of them were going to leave then they were going to go through this together.

There were suddenly no barriers between them as they saw the love they held for each other, right before the entirety of Tartarus descended upon them.

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Frieda’s voice suddenly broke through the haze that engulfed the both of them, allowing the noise of war back into their lives, “But we have a problem.”

Turning to look at Frieda, Krista saw that she, and everyone else, were watching something in the distance.

Following Frieda’s gaze, Krista turned towards the forest where, fifty feet away, stood a line of torches, shimmering in the darkness.

Tracing the line of torches, Krista turned in one complete circle to see that they were completely surrounded, the face of their enemy hidden by darkness.

Krista looked back at their own men. Merely a handful of slaves, but she was amazed when she saw them form a circle similar to that of the Romans.

Frieda was stood to the right of Krista with Artorius on her left, and Leonidas and Cato stood beside him.

“I’ve got the twenty men on the right,” Frieda joked as flipped the sword in her palm, preparing herself for the battle ahead as she counted the numbers of Romans before them.

Krista looked around at the men who stood by her side and her chest warmed the feeling of comradeship.

But it was Artorius, who had made her life, however short, worth living. And that was worth fighting for.

“For Lazarus,” Krista whispered, gripping her sword tightly.

“For Myra,” Leonidas growled as one by one everybody said the name of a loved one, their voices rising in volume as their words sounded like an epitaph, disturbing the romans that watched them.

“For freedom,” Artorius turned and gave Krista a smile, reassuring her in those last few moments.

“For freedom,” Krista agreed, nodding her head slowly, her lips spreading into a smile.

And as the sound of a horn blared through the night sky signalling the beginning of the assault, the Romans beginning to march forward, Krista thrust her sword into the air.

The motion was quickly followed as everyone behind her screamed in unison, “FOR FREEDOM!”

As they stood there, the last stand of the rebellion, Frieda was the first to break the line and charge at the Romans, sword still raised as a scream was torn from her throat.

Flashing Artorius a smile, Krista followed her friend into battle, finally at peace.