Chapter 35

Krista’s weight collapsed against her, sweat covering her skin as her chest rose and fell with exertion.

“I- I cannot do this,” Krista panted, her fingers grasping Dianna’s as if she was her only tether to the real world.

Dianna hoped it was a sign but she knew Krista would not forgive her so easily.

“Krista, you must,” Helga ordered her with compassion from between her legs; “It shall not be long now.”

Krista’s shoulders hunched further in despair.

“Krista,” Dianna spoke over a sudden ring of swords from outside the tent, “You fought in the arena, you killed gladiators and went through pain. You can do this.”

Krista’s eyes bore into Dianna, as if suddenly realising who she was leaning against, and her upper body stiffened as her teeth clenched.

“I would take the gladiators,” Krista whispered breathlessly and Dianna felt a small smile tug at her lips as Krista attempted humour in this dark hour.

“Come,” Helga rushed as she saw Krista’s face wince, sensing another contraction begin, “You need to push, Krista.”

Re-affirming her grip around Dianna’s hand, Krista gritted her teeth and bore down with all her might.

*

Diomed was prepared for the wall of heat as he ran onto the battlefield; hundreds of bodies pushed together as they fought to the death.

“Protect the tent! Protect the tent!” Diomed shouted at the men as he pushed his way through the crowds, “Protect Krista!”

Spotting the roman soldier step out from behind a tree, Diomed ducked below a swing of his sword before shoving his own blade up through his abdomen.

He did not have the time for elaborate fights nor fights worthy of honour as Felix pushed his beast on towards the tent where Krista rested.

Diomed could not allow Krista to be harmed; he was already the reason for her being here. He could not allow her to be killed upon the birthing bed.

Withdrawing his sword and leaving the soldier to drop to the ground, Diomed shoved past a fighting pair and straight towards Felix.

The horse had gathered speed; he was travelling too fast for Diomed to stop the beast. He would be crushed.

Glancing around him quickly, Diomed formulated a plan and, in the blink of an eye, Diomed had scaled a tree further up the forest.

Climbing only a few metres off the ground, Diomed sheathed his sword for better grip before he found a sturdy branch and waited.

Peering through the leaves, Diomed bent at the knees and felt the branch beneath him bow under his weight.

Praying the branch held, Diomed waited for Felix’s horse before Diomed launched himself through the air, straight at Felix who rested in the saddle.

There was a moment when only stale air surrounded his body, before Diomed crushed into Felix, his arms wrapping around Felix’s upper body, and Diomed’s weight pushed him off the saddle.

The horse buckled under the sudden change but the beast gathered its balance and kicked off into the distance, spraying loose dirt up into their faces.

Jumping away from Felix, Diomed charged to his feet and withdrew his sword, pointing the tip of the blade towards Felix’s throat.

Felix gave a startling cough as he hoisted himself to his feet; he was slightly taller than Diomed with hooded brown eyes and all the might of Rome on his shoulders.

Dressed in full military uniform, Felix’s chest was puffed out with armour and his shoulders bulked as a blood-red cape hung from his shoulders.

Felix glared at the sword Diomed was holding towards him before he glanced up at his face, “You are a traitor to Rome.”

Diomed narrowed his eyes but did not rise to the bait, “Pick up your sword.”

Felix glanced down at the blade that rested in the soil a few feet to the left. He had dropped it in the fall.

“The last I heard of Diomed from Capua,” Felix chose to speak, “He had fallen over a cliff’s edge in the retaking of-”

“-Pick,” Diomed wished to hear no more of his past, “Up your sword, you have crimes to answer for and I would take your life.”

Felix arched an eyebrow at Diomed’s words but he did what Diomed wished; bending at the knees, Felix kept an eye on Diomed as he reached out his hand.

But instead of wrapping his fingers around the hilt of his blade, Felix gathered a handful of dirt and threw it up into Diomed’s eyes.

Clamping his eyes shut against the shower of dirt that pelted his skin, Diomed stumbled back as he gathered his wits.

Brushing dirt from his face, Diomed blinked through the darkness to find Felix less than a metre from his body, sword raised to take his head from his shoulders.

Taking the correct action, Diomed lunged forward and darted under the sword until he was standing behind Felix.

Wiping the left-over dirt from his eyes, Diomed twirled the blade in his palm before re-affirming his grip upon the blade.

Felix bared his teeth in a cruel smile as he unclipped the offending cape from his shoulders and faced Diomed.

“You betrayed your vow to Rome for this whore,” Felix spat.

Diomed growled.

“I shall be honoured to take your life.” Felix continued to smile as if he had already beaten Diomed in his thoughts.

“My vows were to protect innocent people,” Diomed defended his decision against the empire, “You killed innocent people,” Diomed remembered the hundred slaves that had been hung from trees as they searched for freedom, “And you shall greet Pluto in Tartarus.”

Felix’s lips curled in anger and he charged forward in attack.

*

Shoving the tip of his elbow into a roman soldier’s nose, Leonidas let his body fall to the ground and turned back to Felix and Diomed.

From his place behind the tree, Leonidas could hear every word that was spoken.

“You betrayed your vow to Rome for this whore,” Felix spoke and Leonidas felt his body freeze with horror.

Diomed was a Roman!?

Knowing what Cato would say, Leonidas kept himself hidden when another young roman soldier decided he was vulnerable to attack.

Hearing the boy’s footsteps behind him, Leonidas barely had to turn, knock the helmet off his head and kick the sword from his hand.

As the boy stood unarmed and dazzled, Leonidas took the opportunity to grasp his head on either side and break his neck.

Letting the body fall to the ground, a small heap was gathering around Leonidas’s feet, before he turned and continued to listen.

“My vow was to protect-” This was Diomed speaking.

So, it was true, Leonidas blinked in shock, Diomed was a soldier. Had he been the one to betray Artorius and Frieda to the Romans?

Something did not seem to sit right in Leonidas’s mind; if he truly was working for the Romans then why put himself in danger to protect Krista?

Why would he care if she lived or died?

With the reason unknown to him, Leonidas stuck to the vow he made Artorius and returned to Krista’s tent.

*

Kicking a dead roman off his blade, Cato flipped the sword around until it was nestled under his arm and felt the sword bury itself into the chest of another Roman that had approached from behind.

Yanking his sword out, Cato turned to see the startled face of a soldier, sword raised in the air, as his eyes bore into his.

After a second the man fell to the ground and Cato looked up at the fight unfolding a few feet from him.

“Markos!” Cato shouted in a sudden warning to his fellow gladiator when he spotted a roman soldier creep up from behind.

Glancing around them, Cato noticed that there were more Romans than gladiators.

Their three hundred strong army was now less than a hundred and the Roman soldiers kept coming, it would not be long before they were overrun.

Cato searched for Leonidas with worry.

Looking back over his shoulder, Cato spotted the soldiers approaching from the side and raced to halt their progress.

Still too far away, Cato held his sword by the blade, warm blood coating his palm, and launched the blade through the air.

The sword flipped through the air before imbedding itself in the chest of a Roman soldier.

Not breaking stride, Cato bent at the knee as he came up against the first soldier.

Using his momentum against him, Cato shoved his shoulder up against the Roman’s legs before grasping the man’s calves and standing up, hurling the soldier over his back.

Cato did not wait for the crack of bones before he moved onto the next; a flat palm up into the man’s nose had him doubled over in a pain and a quick jab to another soldiers throat gave Cato a clear run.

Rushing to the dead roman’s side, Cato withdrew his sword from the man’s chest that had imbedded itself rather well.

Cato began to turn back to the approaching group of Romans when he sensed a presence to the side of him.

Glancing back up the embankment, Cato spotted Leonidas rushing to his side.

Cato felt like he could finally breath as he saw Leonidas safe but the expression upon the Gaul’s face was not one was ease.

“Diomed is a Roman!” Leonidas shouted at Cato as he stopped by his side, the approaching soldiers still a few seconds away.

Cato frowned at the news, “Are you sure?”

Leonidas nodded, “Felix recognised him.”

Cato glanced behind him at the tent atop the embankment, “We need to get Krista away from here. The romans have already captured the lower half of the camp.”

Leonidas glanced at the romans that approached and back at the tent in turmoil.

“Go,” Cato pushed him towards the tent, “I can handle this.”

“Are you sure?” Leonidas cupped the back of Cato’s neck.

Cato parted his lips to say something when the soldiers were upon them.

Leonidas leapt back and Cato ducked a swing at the back of his head before he turned and sliced the soldier’s wrist open, Cato’s boot finding his chest and kicking him back down the hill.

“Go!” Cato shouted at Leonidas behind him.

“I shall be back!” Leonidas assured Cato as he watched him leave.

Cato turned to look down the hill and his blood ran cold.

Praying Leonidas returned soon, Cato gazed upon the dozens of Romans that approached from the north and knew it shall not be long before they were all slaughtered.

*

“Lazarus . . .” Krista’s eyelids drooped over her eyes as exhaustion claimed her limbs.

Her mind was racing with fear as sounds of battle and pain enveloped her entire being; it felt like she had been in childbirth for eternity.

Her hair was slick with sweat, she could feel something wet dripping down her legs and everything in her body felt like it was being stabbed.

But her heart ached the most; Lazarus said nothing as he simply stood above her with that empty smile.

She wanted him to tell her everything was going to be okay, that she would see Artorius again, but he just stood there and smiled.

The once reassuring face of her mentor was now haunting her with his presence.

Was Artorius dead? Was that why Lazarus stood before her? Was he there to take her child?

The thought ripped through her entire being like a lightning bolt and Krista begged for the child to remain inside.

The world was not a safe place for them to be born.

She needed time but Helga was shouting and Krista knew she had run out of time.

She had failed to kill the empress, she had failed to avenge Lazarus. Was that why he was here, to condemn her for not fulfilling her promise?

Why would he not say anything!? Krista was begging for him to say something when the blurred noise of battle seemed to grow quieter than before and Helga’s voice was looming large in her mind.

“Krista!” Helga screamed and Krista was drawn back to reality, the betrayer of her lover and friend holding her hand, “If you do not push your child will die!”

Krista’s heart beat double fast, her breath growing unsteady with pain.

“Push, Krista,” Helga pushed her legs open wider and Krista felt a searing stinging pain erupt as she pushed with all of her might.

A scream was torn from her lips through gritted teeth.

“Yes, Krista!” Helga motivated her as Krista continued to push.

Her lungs were on fire and her body was weak but Krista somehow managed to keep pushing and soon the pain grew intense.

Krista did not know how she survived so much pain, it felt like her bones were breaking every second.

No wound or torture at the hands of Pompeia came close to such a pain.

The torches were burning lower in the tent with every second and Krista wondered how long she had been in here when Helga ordered her to stop pushing.

Caught up in a tidal wave of emotion, Krista simply wanted to close her eyes and find this all a dream when water seeped through her tunic and a new sound pierced the air.

It was a startling sound that made Krista’s heart skip a beat and her eyes remain closed for a second.

She could not believe it.

“Krista,” Helga was enticing her to open her eyes but Krista kept wishing Artorius was here, he should be here to see his child.

It made her hate Dianna for what she had done.

But Artorius was not here and their child was now screaming for her.

Opening her eyes slowly, Krista looked up and her breath left her entire body in an instant as she gazed upon her child.

It was pink with blood and a white substance covering its skin but they were beautiful.

“Say hello to your son,” Helga placed the infant in Krista’s arms and it was if the child had been searching her for as his tiny fingers clasped to her breast.

Krista was unsure of where to place her hands as Helga wrapped a blanket around his body but soon Krista was hugging him to her chest.

“He is so small,” Krista breathed unsteady as she stared at the infant, unsure of what to do or what to say when the baby’s face started to twitch.

Watching closely, the rest of the world seemed to die away as Krista’s heart soared with elation. She had done it.

Wiping the blood from his body, Krista saw his eyes start to open and her heart wrenched to see Artorius’s ebony eyes looming wide and large, staring back at her innocently.

Then Krista realised that Artorius was here with her; in their son.

This is it, Lazarus, Krista thought as her mind ran wild and her previous exhaustion forgotten but when she glanced up Lazarus was gone.

Sorrow mixed with love as she stared at where he had been but she finished her thought as she looked down at her son, his lips clamping around her nipple in hunger by Helga’s instructions.

This was it, Krista looked at her son with love, this was what they were fighting for; the freedom of their children.

But as Krista gazed at the new love in her life, the fear that had been pushed to the back of her mind was now propelled to the front as Leonidas and Cato charged into the tent, blood covering their body.

“We have to go!” Leonidas rushed after gazing at the child, “The Romans are here!”

Krista looked around at everyone, not knowing what to do as she had this new life to take care of and be responsible for.

“Where is Diomed?” Krista frowned as she saw the archer not present.

“We need to get you out of here Krista, the army is destroyed,” Leonidas got to her side and, with Cato’s help, they tried to make her stand but Krista screamed in pain.

“You cannot move her!” Helga told them, “She is weak.”

“If she stays she’ll be killed, we’ll all be killed,” Cato snapped at Helga.

“Krista,” Leonidas crouched by her side, trying to make her look at him but Krista could only see her child.

“Everyone is dead?” Krista whispered.

Leonidas gave a small nod.

“To be born in war,” Krista shook her head at the fate of it, “But he shall not die in war.” Pressing her lips against her child’s head, Krista lingered for a moment before she handed him to her friend.

“Krista?” Leonidas frowned as she removed the babe from her breast and handed him across to Leonidas.

“Take him,” Krista pleaded with her friend, “Take him somewhere safe.”

“We can all go,” Cato told Krista.

“No,” Krista snapped as her heart began to break once again, “I cannot walk and I will only slow you down.”

“Krista . . .” Leonidas tried to persuade her.

“I will hold them off long enough for you to get away,” Krista looked at Leonidas and Cato, “There is no one else I would trust him with.”

Leonidas cupped Krista’s cheek as he held the child against his chest, both of their eyes beginning to water as they both knew this was goodbye.

“He shall be strong,” Leonidas promised Krista.

Krista tried to be strong when the sound of marching footsteps resonated around the tent.

“Go,” Krista told them, “We do not have long.”

Leonidas looked torn but he did as he was ordered, gathering a bag Helga had already packed, and turned towards the front of the tent.

Cato went first to check the path was clear whilst Leonidas held the child up for Krista to have one last memory.

“May the God’s bless your path,” Krista whispered under her breath as a single tear ran down her cheek, the child she had so vehemently despised now torn from her grasp.

She felt empty as Leonidas ducked outside and carried her child away from this life; Krista prayed he would not know this life of pain and anguish.

She prayed his life was filled with joy and freedom and that he may never know the weight of shackles around his flesh.

As the sound of war drums grew closer, Krista turned to Helga and Dianna, “You must go too.”

“I am not leaving you,” Helga snapped as she continued to work between Krista’s legs, doing something that Krista could not see.

The pain of losing her child after just getting him eclipsed everything else.

“I shall stay,” Dianna looked down at her lap, guilt wrapping around her.

Krista parted her lips to say something but instead chose against it as she covered her naked chest and began to pull on her armour. It felt like a great chore but she muddled through and soon her fingers wrapped around her sword.

Sitting back and waiting, Krista stared into the darkness as anger took hold of her once again.