Chapter 15

Felix sat atop his horse waiting for the slaves’ arrival.

His men were positioned throughout the forest that bordered the main road whilst Felix waited in plain sight with a line of cavalry behind him.

A group of slaves from the south harboured no threat to the might of Roman soldiers but if they were allowed to meet Krista that might very well change.

These simple serfs could, if given the right encouragement, kill any of his men when war came.

Felix and Gaius had a duty to their men and that included helping to keep them alive when the inevitable was breathing down their necks.

War would soon be upon them; it may be a few months away or a few years but there is only one direction this path took them.

Krista, the Emperor Killer, will not rest until she sees the city of Rome reduced to rubble.

And Pompeia will not rest until Krista is killed.

And with the empire caught in the middle of their feuding, it could only lead to an inevitable war that would see many of Rome’s sons, and slaves alike, dead.

Felix, who had grown up in the city and called it his home, would never allow that to happen.

And neither would the thousands strong army at the Empress’s and Senates disposal.

Today, he was charged with defeating the slave party that now deserted their masters and headed north to join the rebels.

It was simply another move on the board that took the Romans one step closer to victory.

Felix had been waiting for nearly a few hours when the signal came; a flaming arrow shot into the sky.

He almost didn’t see it against the backdrop of the setting sun but it did not matter.

Nothing was going to save these rebels now.

* * *

Dianna raced through the camp.

Her hand covered her mouth as she pushed through the crowds of bodies falling to illness.

The weak swayed on their feet as they struggled to breathe against the disease that now claimed their body.

Sweat covered their pale skin whilst their eyes were rimmed in redness and their hands reached out at any passing person, begging for water.

Dianna made sure to keep bodily contact down to a minimum but even she could not get away with touching somebody at some point; the camp was overflowing with people.

But Dianna did not care for the disease at this precise moment; she knew that she may contract it at any point but she had a greater need for something else.

Frieda and Leonidas were too busy aiding the sick to notice Dianna slip past their guard.

For the last few days all thought of fighting and rebellion had been lost as they tried to save as many people as possible.

However the bodies of those they had freed simply kept piling up and words of prayer filled the air every minute of the day.

Dianna didn’t know when she had noticed it but at some point she had realised that Krista was nowhere to be seen.

Artorius was constantly assisting those who were bed-ridden, too weak to stand, but Krista had not been seen once.

She had spoken to a few others but they claimed not to have seen her for the past few days either.

It sent alarm bells ringing in Dianna’s mind and this evening, as everyone was outside, she was going to learn the truth.

Keeping her body hidden in the shadow cast by the hill, Dianna hurried up the incline towards Krista’s tent that rested upon the hill overlooking everybody else.

Dianna passed the general’s tents half way up and it looked like nobody had been here in year let alone days.

The tents were allowed to flap around in the wind, no torches had been lit casting everything in darkness and a feeling of desertion hung over the space.

Not being deterred, Dianna finally reached the top of the hill and stood in front of Krista’s tent. The largest in the camp it took on a different tone with no one to live inside of it.

Gritting her teeth, Dianna stepped inside out of the cold night wind and looked around her in disappointment.

Krista was not there.

Cups filled halfway with wine and half empty plates of food littered the surfaces; the covers on the bed had been stripped off and her weapons were gone along with her water skin and horse.

That is when the truth dawned on Dianna; Krista had fled the camp.

Anger boiled in her chest as she realised that she had let Krista slip through her grasp; Krista had a few days head start on her.

And with no idea where to start looking, it appeared as if Dianna would never get her revenge.

* * *

Krista stood just within the treeline and gazed out at the small village that now slept peacefully in their beds as they dreamt of sunny days and loving children.

This, Krista realised, was their piece of freedom.

She had been watching them all day, simply waiting for night to fall before she approached, and what she saw appeared to be a little slice of heaven.

A clutter of no more than a dozen huts, the children ran freely in the fields as their fathers ploughed and their mothers cooked and the entire village seemed to thrive through their shared labour.

Krista imagined that this is what her village might have been like if the Romans hadn’t arrived.

Her father and Lazarus would still be working for the villa down the road from them; her brother too would have joined them when he was old enough.

Her mother helped to patch up their clothes and Krista . . . Krista could not think what she would have been doing.

Maybe she would have worked in the villa too or maybe she would have stayed at home to help her mother.

She did not know but that peaceful life had been torn from under her feet and replaced with one Krista could never have imagined.

Even now, as she gazed out at the village, Krista tried to remember what her parents looked like but she could only conjure up the image for a second before it slipped from her grasp.

They were fading, Krista thought with sadness. Her parents and her brother’s faces were fading into the background.

Soon, she would no longer remember what they looked like and soon all she would be able to say about them is that she caused their deaths.

The moment she killed that guard she had sealed all of their fates.

How much would have been different if she had not picked up that sword?

“What are we waiting for?” Diomed stepped up beside her, making Krista jolt back into her senses, “They will be waking up soon if we wait here any longer,” He joked.

Krista narrowed her eyes at the archer who, ever since they had left the camp, had not failed in annoying her ever second of the day.

Turning away from Diomed, Krista left their horses tied up by the river, and started to walk toward the village.

It was a two minute walk across the fields and then a further three minutes’ walk through the village before they came across the apothecary’s residence.

Krista may not be allowed back to camp but that did not mean the well-being of her people had slipped from her mind.

They needed medicine and no one else could leave camp due to the risk of infection; they did not know how this disease spread and so far it was contained, regrettably, to their camp.

“Where is the apothecary?” Diomed frowned as they stopped in front of his door, the village still soundly asleep.

“Drunk,” Krista gazed at the door as she remembered following the man from the tavern. She had been hoping to ask him for the medicine but it seemed he would not understand her in his deranged state.

And she could not wait for him to sober up.

Diomed raised an eyebrow but said nothing more as Krista removed a dagger from her boot, scrunching up her nose when she had to kneel down first to achieve the task.

Her stomach was growing rapidly and hence she could not simply bend over any longer.

“Let me,” Diomed chuckled, immediately stepping in front of her, a knife only a few inches long clasped in his grasp.

Krista gritted her teeth as Diomed thought her incapable; this man was frustrating to the extremes.

But Krista could not punch him out here and against her wishes, he made quick work of the lock.

Diomed pushed open the door before he stepped back to allow her to enter first.

Rolling her eyes at his behaviour, Krista ducked her head under the door and allowed herself to gain her bearings as Diomed joined her.

The door shut quietly behind them setting them in darkness except for the fire that burned low in the cradle.

The sounds of a snoring middle aged drunkard reached their ears; the noise was comforting to Krista as she lit a torch from the fire and started to search for the medicine.

“Do we even know what we are looking for?” Diomed whispered as he crept up behind her, making Krista raise her head in annoyance.

“I shall know when I see it,” Krista said through gritted teeth before she went back to looking at the different jars and powders that littered the shelves.

“How do you know about this stuff?” Diomed asked her as he looked through the man’s objects; his fingers never able to sit idly by.

“We had something similar happen when I was a slave under Commander Niclaus,” Krista thought about the year the sickness had hit them but it brought back a few unpleasant memories so she blocked them out.

Krista lifted a vile of a strange orange powder up to the light before she set it back down and moved on to the next.

“But you did not fall ill?” Diomed murmured absentmindedly as he inspected a wooden ornament.

“No,” Krista replied sharply, her voice sounding heavy, causing Diomed to turn his gaze away from the ornament and towards her.

“Why not?” Diomed frowned.

Krista kept her gaze on the bottles, “Lazarus. He kept me safe.”

Diomed opened his mouth to say something when Krista let out an exasperated sigh, “It’s not here,”

Krista slammed her hands against the desk; this was the only thing she could do to save her people and right now she could not do that.

“Then we move on to the next village,” Diomed told her.

They had been to two villages already, this was the third but it seemed the concoction she needed was not carried by the lower apothecaries.

“There is a place I know that will stock it,” Krista gazed at Diomed through her lashes.

“No,” Diomed instantly snapped, “That place is guarded by Romans,” Diomed snapped.

“It is the only option if we want to save the others,” Krista snapped as she turned and doused out the torch in a bucket of water.

The torch was still hissing when Krista slipped out the door and headed back towards the horses, leaving Diomed to lock the door.

“Krista,” Diomed hurried back to her side, “We cannot go there; you know what will happen,”

“I know what shall happen if we do not get the medicine,” Krista growled; Artorius and the rest of her family were back at camp and at any moment they too could fall ill to the disease.

And she was not about to lose anybody else.

* * *

Pompeia was called to the senate.

She hated the senate and the way they all seemed to judge her but she was not so idiotic to think that she could win this war without them.

The senate acted for the people and she knew that she needed the people’s vote to keep up this campaign.

“Empress,” Senator Germanus spoke clearly, his hands clasped together and his thick white hair combed back over his scalp, “I, and the senate, are concerned about the expense of this campaign,”

Pompeia smiled seductively at the men, “Wars are not cheap, my faithful senators,”

“War?” A man at the back of the crowd cried, “Has it truly come to such an extreme?”

“I fear it may, Senator,” Pompeia narrowed her eyes, “Although, I pray it shall not.”

“It has been nearly seven months since your brother died and still his killer makes a fool out of Rome,” Senator Otho spoke, “And of you, Empress. How long does it take to eradicate a group of slaves?”

Pompeia turned her head towards the old man, fighting to keep the anger from showing on her face.

“Gladiators,” Pompeia corrected him.

“I am sorry?” Otho blinked.

“We must not forget gentleman,” Pompeia put on her best pleasing tone of voice, “That these are not simply slaves but gladiators. They have been tested on the field of battle, they have cause and they have a leader.”

The senators looked at each other as they discussed in whispers what Pompeia told them.

“Alone they may be a mindless rabble but with Krista to unite them they share a common cause; the destruction of Rome itself.”

The whispers grew louder as the fear of Krista and her rebels grew.

“I do not simply hunt Krista for my brother,” Pompeia caused her voice to choke as she mentioned her brother, “I hunt her for the survival of Rome and her empire for this depraved individual would see everything in Rome burn.”

“This is troubling,” Senator Germanus spoke, causing everybody to go quiet, “But we have heard troubling news from Rome as well,”

“Senator?” Pompeia tilted her head as her brows furrowed in confusion.

“Is it true, Empress, that you have commissioned a private army?” Germanus arched an eyebrow.

Pompeia’s eyes grew wide.

“If such news were true then this would be troubling to the senate. It is our duty to uphold democracy.”

Pompeia nodded her head, “And you do so brilliantly,”

Locking eyes with Germanus, Pompeia could tell that this man did not believe her and that created problems for the Empress.

“I can assure you, Senators,” Pompeia took a step closer, “That such rumours are just that; Rumours. I use only the forces you have allowed me to hunt down the Gladiatrix but may I remind you,” Pompeia narrowed her eyes, “that she killed your Emperor?”

The senate grew quiet as Pompeia spun it back around on them.

“The people shout for her head and so should you,”

“Empress-” Senator Germanus tried to speak.

“- My brother gave his life for Rome,” Pompeia argued, “The least we could do is bring his killer to justice and thus ensure the survival of the empire he died for,”

Germanus nodded his head, “Very well, Empress,”

Pompeia held her breath as they spoke among themselves for a second.

“You may have the money to continue your campaign.”

“Thank you senators,” Pompeia bowed her head, the feeling of pride washing over her body.

“Empress,” Senator Germanus called after her as she started to walk away, “We hope to have results soon, if not I am afraid that the people may forget who the true enemy is,”

Pompeia straightened her spine as she heard the threat in his voice; her eyes growing wide.

“Good day, Empress,” Germanus smiled, allowing her to leave like she was a child who was being scolded.

Pompeia turned and stormed from the room vowing that Senator Germanus will live to regret the words he spoke.