Chapter 34

The night air grew cold and rank with death as still-warm blood ran over the soil like a river.

Krista could see her breath hang in the air like a mist in front of her face as she focused on placing one foot in front of the other.

With her arms draped over the shoulders of Leonidas and Diomed, Krista allowed her body to be directed through the forest.

Navigating trees and fallen soldiers, Krista’s mind was beginning to unravel as her body changed.

The calmness she had coveted for the past few minutes now began to change once more; her skin grew warm as the muscles around her waist and hips tightened.

Her knees began to buckle as she anticipated the pain but she knew she had to keep moving; the sound of swords against metal rang in her ears and the image of a stampeding horse raced through her mind.

Curling her fingers around the pauldron on Leonidas’s shoulder, Krista kept her feet moving as she breathed heavy.

Glancing over her shoulder, Krista eyes travelled past the small clusters of sword-fights, over the slaughtered bodies before finally resting on the Roman horseman still waiting behind them where he had reached the top of the embankment.

He looked fearsome with shining armour and a tail of fur running from the top of his helmet and down the length his back.

But in her state, Krista’s eyes turned to the horse and became transfixed on the beast’s large black globes for eyes.

They shone with moisture and in their reflection Krista could see the three hundred men and women that followed her quickly being slaughtered.

Limbs were cut from bodies, their blood marked the earth where they fell and their own eyes stared lifelessly upwards but the glittering night sky was blocked by the canopy.

They died unable to gaze upon the stars of their freedom.

“Get inside!” Diomed’s voice shouted through the screams and Krista whipped her head back to find herself being huddled into her tent.

The darkness and battle from outside seemed to have vanished the moment she stepped a foot inside but she could still hear their screams.

Her tent was consumed in low-burning torch light, illuminating the dark colours of the fabric and flickering against the metal objects.

“Lay her down here,” Leonidas directed Diomed towards the cot at the back of the tent.

Krista winced as she was placed upon the blankets, her fingers still curled around her sword, unable to part with it.

“I must find Cato and Helga,” Leonidas told Krista, “I shall return.”

Krista gazed into this man’s large blue eyes as her fingers released his pauldron and trailed down his arm as the child seemed to jolt downwards inside of her. She prayed he was right.

Releasing him to the world, Krista turned to Diomed, watching him re-light the tent as he gathered a vase of water and any cloths he could find.

Krista frowned at his behaviour but she said nothing, she didn’t think she could.

The moment she opened her lips Krista feared she would start screaming and she doubted if she would be able to stop.

Her pulse was racing and her heart felt like it was trying to break free from her chest as her thoughts ran wild.

The child was not due for almost another month, was it too early? Would her child survive?

Krista squeezed her eyes shut, gripping the edge of the bed, as the child moved again but this time it felt different.

Artorius, Krista formed a small ‘o’ with her lips and tried to breath but she felt her lower lip being to tremble as warm memories sprang forth in her mind, Artorius please.

Krista wanted Artorius. She needed Artorius.

Krista never thought she would need another human being but at that moment Krista needed Artorius more than she needed air.

She was frightened she would not survive and Artorius . . . She needed his strength to do this.

“Krista,” Diomed’s voice cut through her thoughts like a knife, “We need to get you down here,”

Turning her head, she looked down at the ground a few feet away from her and saw exactly what Diomed had been doing.

A blanket had been lain on the ground with cushions piled at one end, a bowl of water and rags just off to the side.

Her heart warmed to think of the effort he had gone to.

“My mother was a healer,” Diomed informed her as he offered his arm when a piercing cry filled the air.

The sound cut through Krista’s body more than any sword could but as she tried to ignore the sound of swords against shields outside her tent, Krista felt like she was betraying her men by being in here.

Hiding away from the fight that she had brought upon their heads.

“Come,” Diomed spoke softly, drawing her back to the present and helping her to the ground.

Krista had just propped herself up against the cushions when the curtain entrance of her tent was pulled back and Helga emerged from outside.

Her white hair was falling around her shoulders and blood stained her fingers, Krista’s eyes widened as she gazed upon the woman.

“I found her attending to an injured soldier in the field,” Cato clarified when he spotted Krista’s expression.

Leonidas did not look amused by the woman’s actions, “A Roman soldier,”

Helga did not look at Leonidas as she spoke, “I made a vow to help any man that could be helped. It does not matter to me on which side of the line he fell. Now, if you wish to kill Romans please go outside and guard the entrance. We need privacy.”

Leonidas clenched his jaw in anger, but it was at Helga’s actions rather than the woman herself.

“Go,” Krista whispered to Leonidas, reassuring him that she would be safe.

“Let us leave,” Diomed walked past the small gathering of women, “We shall protect her from outside.”

“I shall be close by,” Leonidas knelt on one knee by Krista’s side as he turned to face Helga, “If you lay a hand on her that is not healing I shall severe your head from your neck, is that clear?”

Krista sighed at his protectiveness but she could say nothing as another pain gripped her body.

“Leonidas,” Cato called softly from the entrance, drawing Leonidas away.

Krista watched the Gaul leave sadly, her heart twisting as she was now truly alone.

“How is this happening?” Krista snapped at Helga, “You said another two months.”

“I am aware,” Helga informed Krista, “But infants work on their own schedules. Come, we must get you out of this armour.”

Krista gritted her teeth, a small scream breaking free from her throat, as she lifted her fingers and began to pull at the strings of her scaled breastplate.

Leaving the sword by the cot, Krista peeled the armour over her head when movement from the door brought her senses into overdrive.

“Oh, Dianna, there you are!” Helga announced with little fear of her intursion.

Krista gazed upon the black-haired girl with uncertainty, her lips parting to speak when another pain gripped her stomach and Krista was overwhelmed with the desire to push.

“Hurry Dianna,” Helga lifted Krista’s legs until her feet were planted against the ground with her knees bent and her legs spread open wide.

Krista could say nothing as the slave girl she had rescued fell to her knees and aided Krista in the birth of her child.

* * *

“-blessed, oh Jupiter, save us from this perilous- ” A young man crashed to his knees in the dirt, his fingers interlocking as he stared up at the sky.

 Blood that was not his own stained his skin and tears ran freely down his cheeks.

“-The Gods shall not save you,” Leonidas broke away from the front of the tent and pulled the man to his feet.

“You must save yourself.” Leonidas swiped the man’s sword up from the ground and shoved it against his chest.

The man looked terrified as he fumbled to hold his blade correctly before he turned and hurried back to the battle.

Leonidas turned back to guard Krista just as Diomed had slain another roman, the bastard’s body rolling limp down the small embankment to the left.

“Why did you do that?” Diomed looked over his shoulder at Leonidas.

Cato gazed at Diomed curiously.

“That boy,” Diomed regained his breath, “He was scared. Why frighten him further?”

“We are all scared,” Leonidas snapped at Diomed, trudging back up the small slope and watching the battle unfold beneath them, “That does not mean we stop fighting,”

“Then what will stop the fighting?” Diomed shook his head but their argument was brought to a halt when they heard a scream coming from the tent behind them.

Cato gave a small wince at the agony that sounded in their leader’s voice.

“We should not be here,” Leonidas growled with anger, “We should be ten leagues from here.”

Diomed watched Leonidas curiously; his anger was like what a husband would feel for his wife. Whilst Diomed knew that not to be possible, it was still peculiar to see such loyalty.

“We have another problem,” Cato pushed past Leonidas and gazed into distance.

Leonidas followed the direction Cato was pointing and there, charging through the battle, was the man on horseback.

And he was heading directly for Krista’s tent.

“Who is that bastard?” Leonidas growled, his breath brushing Cato’s ear as he gazed upon the same man from earlier in the eve.

Diomed stepped forward and watched the man’s progress with trepidation, “Felix.”

“Who in Jupiter’s name is Felix?” Leonidas looked at Diomed over his shoulder.

“We cannot let him reach the tent. Stay with Krista.” Diomed’s eyes were stuck on the horseman as he plunged into the battle; he had barely finished his sentence before he was heading for Felix.

Leonidas did not need to be told to abandon Krista, let alone by this mysterious stranger that had joined them barely a few months prior to Artorius and Frieda’s capture.

Tracking Diomed as he cut his way through the crowds, Leonidas got the sense that something was unfolding before their very gaze.

Unsettled by Diomed’s urge to keep them away from Felix, Leonidas drafted Quintus to stand with Cato before he too plunged into the battle.

* * *

Dianna knelt by Krista and simply stared at her.

The woman who had killed her father now about to bring new life into the world.

This was the closest Dianna had been able to come to the Gladiatrix in her almost seven month stay with the rebellion.

Krista was in pain; She had removed her armour leaving her clad in only her tunic. She was defenceless with only a midwife to aid her.

The dagger at Dianna’s thigh burned her flesh from where it was calling for blood. She had already used it to stab Artorius and Frieda, why not the woman she had set out to kill in the beginning?

This was it, Dianna thought as she took a soft gasp, this was the moment.

The moment where Dianna had to choose her side; Artorius and Frieda had been only wounded by her hand.

The soldiers she had killed were in the spur of a moment.

But this . . . this was something different, Dianna realised.

She had dreamt of Krista’s death for a stream of endless nights, she had thought about every way in which she could sink her dagger between Krista’s ribs.

Dianna wasn’t killing Krista to protect herself. Nor did she want to kill Krista to protect anyone else.

She was killing Krista for revenge; revenge for the man who, Dianna was slowly starting to realise, had abandoned her as a child and used her mother.

“Dianna? Dianna!” Helga’s voice shouted through her haze, jolting Dianna from her thoughts.

“Y- Yes?” Dianna whispered with guilt.

“Take Krista’s hand,” Helga, the small old woman, ordered with a powerful voice as she knelt in front of Krista’s legs.

Dianna gazed awkwardly at Krista’s hand that lay before her; the hand of the person that killed her father.

Shaking softly that nobody saw it, Dianna slowly reached for Krista’s hand when the Gladiatrix whipped it away from her reach.

“No,” Krista snapped, determined to remain strong.

“Krista,” Helga did not sound pleased by Krista’s refusal, “This is going to hurt and you are going to need someone-”

“-All I need is Artorius,” Krista meant for the statement to sound strong but as she spoke a new contraction washed through her body and her voice quivered in pain.

Dianna’s chest tightened and her throat began to close up.

“This is what he wanted!” Krista shouted in anger, her fingers curling into a fist, “He wanted the family, I just wanted . . .” Krista took a deep breath.

“He should be here. Why isn’t he here?” Krista knew the answer but still she shouted it to the Gods; were they that displeased with what she had been trying to do?

Dianna’s eyes were beginning to sting as Krista lay before her, pleading to Jupiter just like she had done when she learnt of her father’s death.

“I’m sorry!” Dianna suddenly blurted out, her mind having no control over her words, “It’s all my fault.”

Krista frowned at Dianna, wincing as she felt another pain beginning to build.

“Krista . . .” Helga said her name like a parent, warning her.

Ignoring Helga, Krista stared at Dianna, “What do you speak of?”

“Artorius and Frieda,” Dianna’s hands fell uselessly into her lap, unable to lift her eyes to Krista’s, “It is my fault they were captured.”

“Dianna . . .” Krista breathed heavy through a pain that was growing unbearable, a great weight pressing down on her groin, “Dianna, what do you-”

“-I betrayed Frieda and stabbed Artorius!” Dianna cried out loud, unable to bear Krista’s confused gaze, “Titus,” Dianna whimpered, “Emperor Titus was my father and when I learnt you had slain him all I wanted was to-”

Krista’s body felt like it had been dropped into an ice lake as she gazed into those cerulean blue eyes, the same blue eyes as her father and Krista’s body began to shake.

Unadulterated rage seeped through Krista’s body as she reached out and wrapped her fingers around Dianna’s weak throat.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” Dianna whimpered uncontrollably.

“Do you realise what you have done!?” Krista searched Dianna’s eyes for anything but all she saw was Titus.

An Emperor who had fallen to his sister’s scheme of becoming an Empress; Krista could see him lying in her arms as he bled to death.

“Krista, Krista . . .” Dianna started to scratch at Krista’s hand around her throat as her grip tightened, squeezing the life out of her.

As memories of Titus re-emerged it wasn’t long before she saw Lazarus’s face before her, his memory helping to calm her heart when a new, heart-wrenching agony ripped through her body.

Her fingers released Dianna instinctively as her body curled to protect itself against the pain.

“What is that!?” Krista screamed at Helga.

“The baby is in distress,” Helga cursed, her head disappearing between Krista’s legs, her warm hands pressing against her opening, “Krista, you must push!”

“No,” Krista shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes against the pain, “Artorius- Artorius- he has to be here. He has to be . . .”

Krista took a sudden breath as she looked to the side and saw Lazarus.

He smiled down at her with that warm grin she remembered from when she was a child; the scars of slavery and the arena had vanished from his skin.

As she looked at him, decades younger from when she last saw him, Krista felt like she was a little girl all over again, running through her village towards her family.

She felt safe as she felt a hand capture hers on the other side.

He didn’t say anything and he barely moved. He just smiled at her with those familiar chocolate eyes locked onto hers and Krista started to push.