Chapter 5

Pompeia smiled as she received the news of Krista’s latest conquest; a small villa no less than twenty leagues from her army.

“We have reports that they have killed Marcus Threasius,” The messenger informed the Empress, unnerved by the smile that lingered on her pale lips.

Pompeia had known Marcus and there was no love lost between them.

But Pompeia ignored the young boy, waving him away, as she crossed the room, a certain lightness to her step.

Her bad mood was lifting, Pompeia realised, as she correctly predicted Krista’s exact move.

Soon Krista will find Dianna in the dungeon and her plan will be set in motion.

Marcus Threasius was a twisted man with twisted fantasies; half of Rome knew about his ways and what he kept below stairs.

So Pompeia put her knowledge to good use and ordered Dianna to be locked away, she was sure Marcus would take a liking to Dianna with her blue eyes and fair skin and it would help Pompeia’s cause.

But Pompeia did not care about what Marcus did to Dianna because the more he injured her the more Krista would trust her.

If this Gladiatrix only had one weakness it would be her need to protect everybody.

She may hide it well but Pompeia had seen the look in Krista’s eyes when Gaius had had her blonde Briton friend by the throat.

Krista could not bear people to die for her.

And that would be her downfall.

* * *

“Krista,” The blonde warrior woman spoke in her strange accent causing Dianna to whirl around in shock, as much as she could cramped in this metal cage.

Her entire body froze as she came face to face with her father’s killer; she could feel her eyes growing wide and her lips parting as she gazed up at the Gladiatrix.

Dianna hadn’t known what she was expecting but her entire body flooded with fear as she gazed into the eyes of this killer.

The darkness seemed to welcome Krista as it wrapped around her lithe figure.

Long dark locks of hair fell over her shoulders in soft waves, an armour dress of bronze and silver covered her skin and a long sword rested by her hip.

But it was her eyes; deep cesspools of hate and anger that shook Dianna to her very core.

Those had been the eyes her father had seen as he lay dying in her arms.

Dianna gritted her teeth in anger as she curled her fingers around the bars, pain shooting up her arms as she tried to move.

But this woman not only looked angry, she looked fierce and strong and formidable.

Dianna realised that if she was to succeed she needed to play the long game. Krista would cut down anything in her path.

As Dianna thought this she remembered the conversation with her aunt.

“Make her trust you,” Pompeia instructed Dianna, “And once she trusts you . . .”

Once she trusts you, Dianna thought, kill her.

“Get them out of there!” Krista barked at her men as she turned away from Dianna and rushed back up the stairs.

Dianna leaned away from the bars as she grew control over her limbs once more; Krista may be able to introduce pain on others but it seemed she was unable to watch it.

As the men walked towards their cage, the two women Dianna had been locked up with, started to scream in fear.

Dianna understood that the masters and their men had done certain things to these women that had made them unable to trust their entire sex ever again.

Dianna had been lucky in her imprisonment that she had escaped any such torment before Krista arrived; maybe Dianna should thank her for her opportune arrival but Dianna could not find the words in her heart.

This woman had killed her father and she thought freeing her would atone for that.

“Don’t worry,” the blond warrior told them and Dianna could see the relief in the women’s eyes as they gazed upon a female.

Should Dianna act like them to gain their trust?

“Please,” Dianna turned and reached a hand through the bars, “Get me out of here!”

The blond woman had such a slim figure that Dianna could hardly imagine she was able to hold up a sword let alone wield it but as she stuck the sharp blade against the lock, Dianna was proved wrong.

“Come,” The woman swung open the cage door and reached an arm inside towards Dianna, “Taste freedom,”

Dianna watched her blue eyes carefully; this woman truly believed she was free even as thousands of Romans were being commissioned to kill them.

But Dianna could say none of this as she took the lady’s hand and allowed her to pull her from the cage, leaning on her for support.

“Who- Who are you?” Dianna stuttered, truly wishing to know.

“My name is Frieda,” The blond woman gave her a smile as she helped Dianna slowly up the stairs, her joints aching from where she was crouched all day long.

“Frieda,” Dianna whispered, recalling the names of Krista’s generals and most trusted allies. Frieda was amongst the top of the list, “My- My name is Dianna,” She replied when she saw Frieda’s expectant face.

“Well, Dianna,” Frieda aided her through the halls, overcrowded with scared slaves and the boisterous followers of Krista, “You’re free now. You do not need to fear us,”

Dianna looked away; she had never been a slave so they could not grant her freedom for it had never been taken from her.

Frieda shoved a few men aside who attempted to goad them bringing a hint of a smile to Dianna’s lips when Dianna saw it.

The horizon; the sky was painted with every tone of colour from yellow to red and it was beautiful.

Dianna didn’t realise how much she had missed the light until she had been kept from it for so long.

But as her eyes followed the different wisps of colours in the morning sky, she caught sight of something else hanging from a beam across the courtyard.

A yelp of shock burst from Dianna’s lips as she placed the objects that were dangling from ropes; they were bodies.

Frieda’s hand tightened on her arm as she gazed upon the scene, a look of controlled shock on her face before she hid it.

Turning back to look upon the bodies, Dianna could barely recognise them as the five masters.

Their bodies were so bloody and beaten it was difficult to imagine that they had even been human but it was their faces that shocked Dianna the most.

They were gone.

Noses had been crushed under stones, eye sockets had double to twice their size and their skin was slashed open pouring blood over their bodies.

And stood directly beneath them, overlooking the work as they were hoisted off the ground and presented to everybody, was Krista.

* * *

Frieda looked upon the bodies of the masters where they had been all lined up in a row for an entire day now, and Krista could tell that she did not like it.

“It needed to be done,” Krista turned from them and walked back inside her new bedchamber for the evening as her men enjoyed wine, music and women in the courtyard.

“I know that,” Frieda nodded her head as she leant against the wall, her arms hugging her body as night time descended, “I found the women in the cages,”

Krista blinked as she poured herself another glass of wine, answering a deep need for good nourishment. The wine they had been commandeering from trade routes hardly came close to this rich liquid.

“Then what is it?” Krista turned and rested against the table, gathering up a bread roll from the pile as she watched her friend closely.

Her expression had turned heavy and her eyes were glued to the hanging bodies but something told Krista that she was seeing something else entirely.

Frieda looked lost in her own memories.

“You know I was taken from Britain,” Frieda sighed, keeping her back to Krista, “Roman soldiers came into our village. I was ten at the time,”

Krista remained silent.

“Well, they- they murdered my mother and father and a hundred other elders by . . . hanging them from the trees that surrounded our village,”

Krista hung her head as she heard the pain in Frieda’s voice; it was if that young girl of four and ten was speaking to her.

“We were forced to watch before me and my sister were taken,” Frieda stood and drained the contents of her cup before she walked to Krista’s side and reached for the wine canter.

“What happened?” Krista watched her fellow Gladiatrix carefully as the noises of life blurred into the background.

“We were only meant to become slaves but when they tried to take my sister I fought back,” Frieda looked deeply at the wine in her cup before she downed it one shot and poured herself another glass, “They sold me and a few other of the difficult ones to pirates,” Frieda laughed in hatred.

“We came to Rome and I was traded to a rich man and then- well,” Frieda shrugged, “You know the rest,”

“You were trained as a gladiator,” Krista nodded her head as they fell into a comfortable silence, each of them remembering their own pasts.

“I had a brother,” Krista murmured to Frieda, remembering the boy she had laughed and played with, “Every day I forget more about what they looked like. It’s just . . . slipping away,”

Krista let out a sad sigh as she looked at the wine in her hand before taking a long dreg.

“Your sister,” Krista looked up at Frieda, “What happened to her?”

Frieda shot Krista a glance before she shut off, “I don’t know,”

Krista heard the pain in her voice as Frieda turned away, not wanting to remember anything else as it grew too uncomfortable for her.

In that moment Krista started to realise the extent of Frieda’s sacrifice for Krista.

Frieda should have left and gone back to Britain to find her sister and yet she remained in Rome; the place where everything had been taken from her.

Krista did not know what to say when a young woman fell at their feet, her lips cut open and a large red welt forming on the side of her face.

Frieda and Krista shared a look as they both saw the way her clothes had been torn from her body.

“Where?” Frieda asked the girl as they set their cups down, forgetting the moment that had just occurred.

“The- the bath,” The girl cried on the floor.

Krista was already out of the door and rushing through the villa as sounds of a commotion reached her ears and her heart picked up pace inside her chest.

Pushing through the crowds that had gathered around, Krista broke out into the baths to see a group of men pulling at the women they had freed that very day.

Some went willingly whilst others were crying out for help as the men pawed at their skin with roughness.

Memories of Myra in Ludus Magnus flashed in Krista’s mind as she remembered the way the men had groped at her body, using it for their own needs.

Not breaking stride, Krista headed straight for the man who had his hands fisted in a woman’s hair, holding her in place, as he impaled her repeatedly from behind, the woman crying in pain.

“Hey,” Krista snapped, causing his head to turn and face her, as she sent a solid punch into his jaw making his head jerk to the side.

The man was stunned at the sudden attack, allowing Krista to wrap her arm around his throat and pull him away from the woman.

Krista spotted Frieda across the room as she threw one man into the baths and moved on to the next; a few other men aiding Krista and Frieda as they saw what was happening.

The man in her arms was starting to struggle so Krista quickly tightened her hold around his neck and held pressure until he passed out and collapsed to the floor.

Stepping over his naked body, Krista looked around the room as the abused women hugged each other for comfort when Krista spotted a pair of sparkling aqua eyes watching her intently from inside their intimate circle.

It was the girl from the cages, Krista realised with shock, unnerved by the girl’s focused gaze even as her clothes had been torn.

But Krista couldn’t make out any physically harm to her figure; it would seem this girl was luckier than the others.

But as Krista remembered the girl, a thought occurred in her mind and she shared it with Frieda.

*

“Next time you want to get your cock into someone who isn’t willing,” Frieda kicked the cage which contained half a dozen men, making them jump, “I’ll cut it off myself,”

Krista had to smile at Frieda’s language because it mirrored her own thoughts.

But no matter how much Krista was happy to see that these men would not go unpunished, the smell of raw sex, blood and sweat did not aid Krista’s ailing stomach.

Turning away from their disgraceful figures, Krista headed back up the stairs where she and Frieda parted ways.

“I’ll take first guard,” Frieda volunteered.

Krista did not argue as a wave of fatigue overcame her mind.

Hobbling back to her room, Krista grabbed for the glass of wine she had left when she felt the presence of someone watching her.

Turning slowly to look over her shoulder, Krista narrowed her eyes at a woman who stood in her door way watching her.

The woman did not falter under Krista’s glare; she simply remained stood there, hands clasped in front of her with her greying blond hair falling straight to her shoulders.

“Did you want something?” Krista sighed as she lifted the cup to her lips.

“Please,” the woman took a step forward over the threshold and held her out her hand towards Krista, “Don’t drink that,”

Krista frowned at the woman in anger; she could drink what she wanted, “And why not?” Krista arched an eyebrow.

“Because it will harm the baby,” The woman smiled softly.

Krista just stared at her, unable to speak.

* * *

“Empress,”

Pompeia looked over her shoulder as she heard her arrive, “Come in,” Pompeia waved her through as she turned from the balcony and gazed upon the newest member of her royal guard.

“That armour becomes you,” Pompeia smiled at the roman armour that adorned the body of one of Krista’s own men.

“Thank you, Empress,” They bowed at the waist, “You wished to see me,”

“Yes,” Pompeia lifted her skirts as she sat down and picked up a short piece of parchment, “I cannot wait for my brother’s bastard and nor can I trust her,”

“Your grace?”

“I sent for a warrior and I have been informed that he has reached Rome,” Pompeia handed her the piece of parchment; “I would like you to ride out and meet him; ensure he gets into Rome unseen,”

“Yes, your grace,” They took the offered correspondence and bowed as they received their orders, turning to leave.

“Oh, Rheia?” Pompeia called out just as she was about to leave, “Be careful. The man I have summoned does not take well to traitors.”