Chapter 13

Dianna stood at the front of the crowd as she watched Krista and the others return to camp.

Dianna had done what Krista had asked and sent for Artorius but Dianna was shocked to see that the man from the forest wasn’t dead; he wasn’t even wounded.

He was walking by their side, a bow slung casually across his chest as he gazed upon their faces in marvel. As if he could not believe what was before his very eyes.

But it quickly covered it up with a smile and turned back to face the front.

This man had stopped Dianna from killing Krista; she had been so close.

Krista had finally learnt to trust her; she had been teaching Dianna how to fight, alone.

A twist of her wrist and she could have slipped the dagger into Krista’s stomach and had her revenge but this man had to arrive and put all of that planning to waste.

Dianna saw his shaved head and thin physique as a weakness among gladiators but there had to be something special about him for Krista to spare his life.

He had trespassed upon their camp; Krista had seen him as a threat but something had changed her mind.

Dianna needed to know what as she saw Krista’s generals step through the crowd and join Krista’s side as they started to ascent to her tent.

* * *

Artorius didn’t trust him; for many reasons but the most important question at the front of his mind was why?

Why now? The man with a wounded scalp, who introduced himself as Diomed, had already confessed to following them for the past few weeks since the attack at the Roman villa where he had saved Krista’s life.

Artorius would be indebted to him for such an act as he unwillingly saved two lives instead of one that day.

But if he truly was an ally then why did he hide in the forest, watching them, before he made his approach?

Artorius didn’t like it but Krista seemed calm enough as their tent was filled with Leonidas and Frieda.

“This is the archer?” Frieda raised an eyebrow when she first set eyes on Diomed, “Hmm,” She scoffed as she took her space beside Krista, obviously not impressed.

“And you’re the Briton,” Diomed stated in a distasteful tone of voice causing Frieda to narrow her eyes at the man.

Artorius and Krista shared a glance at Diomed and Frieda’s reactions to each other but they said nothing.

“And you’re Leonidas, the Gaul,” Diomed turned to face Leonidas who was leant against the desk, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword.

Leonidas bristled beside Artorius as Diomed insulted him for being a Gaul, “Do you like your head attached to your shoulders?”

Diomed smirked at the remark but said nothing more as he turned back to face Krista.

But Diomed had gotten his point across; he knew who they were and where they came from. What else did he know from his time spent watching them?

“Why were you following us?” Artorius asked him, wanting to know the answer.

Diomed looked at Artorius over his shoulder, “I wasn’t following you,”

Artorius’s brows drew together before Diomed turned his head back to gaze across at Krista, showing exactly who he had been following for the past few weeks.

Artorius lifted his gaze towards Krista who was intently staring at Diomed, unnerved by his declaration.

“And what is it you want from me?” Krista asked.

“Nothing,” Diomed shook his head, “I want nothing from you. I want to fight for you,”

As the last syllable left his lips silence rained down over the tent as everybody considered what he had just said.

They could always do with more soldiers and an expert archer, though Artorius was loathed to admit it, would be an advantage.

But he was still unsettled by the man’s secretive nature; there was more to this man than he was allowing them to see and Artorius was suspicious.

“I saw you that day in the forest,” Diomed confessed, “Fighting twenty romans at once and I knew exactly who you were,”

Krista glanced across at Artorius and he could see the uncertainty in her eyes; she shared his fears but Diomed spun a very compelling argument.

“And I knew that I wanted to fight for you,” Diomed took a step forward as he poured his heart into the speech; Frieda shuffled on her feet as she prepared for an attack but none came.

“Who was your master?” Krista asked him after a moment’s consideration.

“My master?” Diomed frowned, his eyes looking around at each of them.

“If you know who I am then you would also know that this army consists of freed slaves,” Krista stepped forward, “So, who was your master? I don’t remember freeing you from one of the villas which means you either freed yourself, which is highly unlikely,” Krista glanced at Frieda, “or you’re not a slave,”

“I’m not,” Diomed shook his head as his eyes looked lost for a second, “I was but I am no longer,”

“Where is your mark?” Frieda looked up at Diomed from under her lashes as she raised her arm and twisted it so Diomed could see the brand that had been burned into her flesh.

The air grew heavy and everybody grew sombre as they remembered the time they had been branded.

Artorius offered up his own arm for Diomed to look upon; it had been a few years since he had been branded but the skin had never grown back properly.

The flesh had turned white and hairless causing the symbol of his master to be forever with him.

And it was something he shared with every person in their camp; it united them.

Diomed looked at each of them in turn, his blue eyes sparkling in fear for a moment, before he turned back to Frieda and raised his hand.

Each of them instantly reached for their swords as Diomed moved for his bow that was slung across his chest.

But he bypassed the bow and curled his fingers around the cloth that covered his arms.

Letting out a steady breath, Artorius released his sword but he kept his eyes on Diomed as he pulled the cloth back on his left arm.

And there it was; charred into his upper left arm was the mark of a slave trader.

Closest to it, Artorius gazed upon the brand which appeared to be the letter ‘F’ but there was something else about the mark that Artorius could not get his head wrapped around.

The letter wasn’t clear against his skin like it would have been if the brand had simply been placed against his flesh; Diomed’s skin behind the brand seemed to be burnt.

Maybe he had been in an accident, Artorius thought but that didn’t seem to fit as his skin was unharmed everywhere else.

It was only behind his mark as a slave did his skin seem to have melted.

But before Artorius could say anything Diomed had replaced the piece of cloth and Krista was looking at him differently along with Frieda and Leonidas.

Diomed was no longer just an archer he was a fellow slave.

And they had an obligation to look after their own.

“Frieda,” Krista spoke to her friend but gazed at Diomed’s, “Find him somewhere to sleep for the night.”

Frieda gave a small nod of her head.

“We shall speak tomorrow,” Krista told Diomed, letting him know that she would not forget about him and that this was not over.

Which Artorius was grateful for because he still wanted to know what had prompted Diomed to watch them without their knowledge for such a long period of time.

* * *

Gaius stared at the message in his hand with anger before he crumpled it up and threw it in the fire.

He could destroy the piece of parchment but the words that had been etched onto it burned the front of his brain as he tried to figure out his next move.

It had been three weeks since the attack at the villa which had seen twenty of his men killed, three Roman officials slaughtered and more soldiers added to Krista’s cause.

But the final straw had been the news of Diomed’s joining Krista.

Gaius could not keep this from Pompeia who had her spies in his camp, reporting back to her regularly with updates of his progress.

And his progress had been brought to a halt as he paced the length of his tent, trying to figure out what he should do next.

If he did not do something quickly then the news he had received in the parchment was more foreboding than it was originally.

Because Pompeia may have her spies but Gaius had his own as well and they informed him that Pompeia had called Argus to Rome.

Argus ‘The Destroyer’ was famous throughout the entire empire, and further, for his fighting skills. He had never lost a battle and it could only mean one thing if Pompeia had called him in.

She was losing faith in Gaius to complete the task he had been given; kill Krista and disperse her slave army.

Gaius did not know how long Argus had already been in Rome, making his next move vital, when his second in command, Felix entered his tent.

“I am in no mood to hear about how the men are feeling today,” Gaius snapped at Felix.

“No, sir,” Felix puffed and Gaius raised his head to see that Felix’s cheeks were flushed from exercise and his brown eyes seemed almost bulging out of his face.

“I cannot read minds, Felix” Gaius reminded him when he simply stood there and looked at him.

“Apologies,” Felix took a deep breath, “There is news of a party moving up from the south,”

“A party?” Gaius frowned.

“Of slaves,” Felix nodded his head quickly.

“They’re coming to join Krista,” Gaius’s eyes grew wide as he heard the good news, “We cannot let them reach the gladiators,” Gaius ordered Felix.

“What would you have me do, sir?” Felix smiled.

“Take the men,” Gaius turned back to his desk and gazed at the numbers he had left to spare, “Take the men and meet these slaves,” Gaius repeated.

His men had not fought for over a week and they were getting restless as Krista’s people picked them off one by one.

“Yes sir,” Felix grew flustered with excitement.

“Felix,” Gaius called after him as he turned to leave.

“Sir?”

“Leave none alive,” Gaius hated to give the order but he needed to show Pompeia that he still had control; he could still fulfil her wishes.

Gaius looked across at the fire where the parchment had been burned to cinders but the words still flashed before his eyes.

‘THE DESTROYER IS IN ROME’.

* * *

Artorius placed one last kiss against Krista’s lips before he pulled back and simply gazed down at her from where he lay on his side.

Night had long since fallen and for a few hours they could leave all of their worries outside of their tent as they enjoyed each other’s company.

The torch light flickered against Krista’s skin, covered in a layer of sweat, and it only made Artorius want to kiss every inch of her.

Artorius’s gaze fell across her abdomen, now starting to swell more as his child grew inside of her.

Reaching out his hand, Artorius ran his palm over the swell of her stomach, “Can you feel her yet?”

Krista remained silent for a moment as she gazed down at Artorius; he wasn’t even carrying the child but he already had more of a connection to it than she did.

“No, not yet,” Krista lied.

She had felt a few . . . fluttering’s but that could be anything and it didn’t seem right to get Artorius’s hopes up.

The baby could still die and Krista didn’t think she could handle that if she knew she had felt him moving inside of her.

“Is that normal?” Artorius lifted his head and gazed up at her with worry.

“I am sure everything is fine,” Krista sighed in frustration at his constant worrying.

Krista was trying to remain calm but Artorius wasn’t helping.

“We won’t be able to hide it soon,” Artorius sighed as he remained down at her waist, running his fingers along the top of her stomach, making her tingle.

“We?” Krista arched an eyebrow as she raised herself up onto her elbows, “I do not see you carrying a child around your hips,”

“People will have to know,” Artorius ignored her jibe as he sat up and locked her gaze with his, “We cannot keep this a secret,”

Krista bit her lip as she gazed down at the traitorous child that grew inside of her this very second.

“Krista,” Artorius reached forward and cupped her face in his hands, “Everything is going to be fine,”

Krista frowned at Artorius, “How?” She begged, “The men will only follow strength and the moment they know I am with child they will see me as nothing more than weak!”

“You are not weak,” Artorius reassured.

“No, I am not,” Krista tried to be anything but weak, “But that is how they shall see me,”

“I need to lead this army,” Krista told Artorius from the depth of her heart, “I need to kill Pompeia. That is what matters,”

Krista saw Artorius recoil and she knew, even as she was saying it, how it sounded, “Killing the Empress is the only thing that matters? What about the life of our child?”

Krista swallowed around the lump in her throat, “She murdered Lazarus. I need to avenge him,”

Krista needed to kill Pompeia more than anything in the world; she would never admit it to Artorius but she would sacrifice anything to sink her blade into Pompeia’s throat.

Lazarus had been her best friend, her father, her family . . . he was the one thing Krista thought she would never have to give up and she thought he had felt the same.

But Lazarus allowed himself to be killed; he had fought much stronger men in the past but on that day he had given up.

Krista could never forgive him for that but she could never forgive herself for thinking it either.

She knew Lazarus had his true family to return to in the Elysium fields but Krista thought he would have at least fought for her.

“Lazarus-” Artorius closed his eyes briefly, “Lazarus sacrificed himself for you so that you would live!”

Krista gazed at Artorius in confusion as she tried to interpret his words.

“Lazarus,” Artorius clarified, “He came to me when you were being tortured for throwing that trident at Pompeia in the arena.”

Artorius didn’t know why he was saying this but he could see how deeply Lazarus’s death had affected her.

“He knew that Pompeia would want blood for what you had done; he knew that she would want you to hurt,” Artorius swallowed when he saw the pain in her eyes, “He told me that you would be punished for it and then he went into the arena,”

“Lazarus knew exactly what he was doing; if he had killed those men and survived then Pompeia would have killed you instead. Krista,” Artorius reached out and cupped her face, making her look at him, “Lazarus sacrificed himself so that you would live,”

“He loved you,” Artorius begged her to see it, “He didn’t want to leave but he knew he had to. He loved you, Krista, he loved you.”

Krista couldn’t speak; she didn’t think she could even breathe as she heard Artorius’s words.

“He loved you but he’s gone. Now, I love you the same way our child inside of you loves you and you would leave us?”

Krista flickered her gaze to look at Artorius, tears spilling over down her cheeks, “That . . . bastard,” Krista hyperventilated as she thought about Lazarus.

“What . . . right did he have to leave me!?” Krista shouted, “That bastard!” Krista screamed as Artorius wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

“He shouldn’t have done it,” Krista sobbed as she finally let it all go; she could look after herself but Lazarus had allowed himself to be killed for her.

He truly did love her like a daughter, Krista realised but that didn’t mean it hurt less.

In fact, it hurt more to think that she had cursed him for so long for being weak when in truth he was stronger than she could have ever imagined.