Chapter 8

They approached in silence.

No sound, smell nor sight alerted the rebels to their presence as Gaius paused just inside the treeline, his army following his actions until two hundred strong men were concealed within the trees, and looked out at the villa.

From the ground it looked more in line with a stronghold rather than a luxurious villa with its high walls, thick wooden gates and flattened ground around its perimeter, making any invader visible from five hundred yards away.

But between the late hours of the night and early hours of the morning, the rebels would be sleeping.

A few soldiers walked the wall, watching the perimeter but even they were stood still; their shapes slumped over in slumber.

Gaius shook his head at their poor defence; from a legion of gladiators he expected more and he expected Krista to be a fearsome leader.

If her warriors were sleeping on duty they must not fear her wrath.

Waving the archers forward, Gaius remained where he was as a dozen men crouched against the earth in front of him and took aim at the guards sleeping on the wall.

The arrows barely made a whisper as they shot through the air before impacting against their targets.

Gaius watched in earnest as each arrow sunk in to the flesh of a traitorous gladiator; their bodies falling backwards off the wall and into the villa.

Krista will soon be alerted to their attack if they discovered the bodies. He needed to act fast.

Sending the signal for the first attack, Gaius once again remained under the cover of trees as a force of fifty men left the sanctuary of the forest from the east.

Two columns of armed men were stood on either side of a battering ram; which had been fashioned from a huge tree trunk with the front hacked into a point.

Metal had been melted down and shaped to cover the point, adding extra strength; simple but effective.

It would decimate their front gate within a minute.

Turning from the villa, Gaius peered up through the trees at the night sky.

It was a clear night, with no clouds, and a full moon; it wasn’t ideal for an evening assault but Gaius worked with what he had.

The tremendous sound of the battering ram being punched against the gate jolted Gaius from his thoughts as he turned back to the task at hand.

Krista will definitely be made aware of their assault now, Gaius thought, as the ram was bashed against the gate a few more times.

But the gate could not stand forever and soon the panelling gave way to the battering ram; the metal point breaking through the beams.

Timing the assault perfectly, Gaius instructed his men forward so that by the time they crossed the plains and reached the villa, the gates had been opened and they flooded in.

Torch lights burnt brightly in their cradles, signs of life were everywhere from the half-finished bowls of food to the warm bedding that littered the ground.

But the villa was empty.

His men poured through the villa, searching for anyone, but as the villa filled with Romans, Gaius turned his attentions on something that rested a few feet from the wall.

Removing a torch from its cradle, Gaius lowered the flame towards the heavy shape on the floor and saw an arrow sticking out of its chest.

But on closer inspection, Gaius saw it for what it truly was and anger expanded in his chest.

Stabbing his sword through the material, grain started to spill out into the ground from the incision.

These ‘guards’ were nothing but sacks of grain and rice.

Krista had tricked them.

* * *

The tunnel brought back stark memories of the arena; the seemingly never ending journey shrouded in darkness.

Krista could remember the first time she had set foot in the tunnel beneath Ludus Magnus; it brought shivers down her spine as she was once again underground.

But the tunnel that ran beneath the villa was nothing compared to that which lay beneath Ludus Magnus.

Ludus Magnus’s tunnel had been vast with high ceilings and cemented walls. The tunnel which they were currently treading through was tight, barely three feet across and six foot high.

Small lengths of wood prevented the tunnel from caving in above them; the air was heavy and filled with dust, the flames flickering the further they progressed through the tunnel.

Unable to see more than three feet in front of her, Krista could almost be forgiven to think that she alone if it was not for the sound of over thirty peoples scraping feet, their laboured breathing and the occasional yelp of fear when they fell over a rock.

In those few moments of privacy, Krista found herself looking at her stomach where something was growing inside of her.

She could feel the swell of her stomach, making her back tilt ever so slightly forward, and at the same time making Krista hate it.

Krista wanted to scream to the heavens. Why hadn’t the child died!?

She had been in many a fight since she had conceived; why hadn’t it died then?

Why should such a child be cursed with her for a mother?

Why should it be cursed to grow up in such a world where human beings were enjoyed the pain of others?

Krista’s mind was unravelling when a loud thundering sound shook the earth around them, dirt falling down over them like rain.

Women screamed out in fear as the hammering sound stopped only to be resumed a few seconds later; tremors vibrating through the soil that surrounded them.

Krista tilted her head back, squinting up at the ceiling as she tried to discern what was happening when a hand slipped around her waist.

Spinning around in the tight space, Krista’s heart skipped a beat when she saw that it was Artorius, his hand resting dangerously close to her abdomen.

Swatting his arm away, Krista tried to divert his attention, “We need to get out of this damn tunnel,”

Krista could see the confusion in Artorius’s eyes at her actions but he said nothing; he knew that this was more important.

“I’ll lead from the front,” Artorius slipped past her, not giving her a second look and Krista knew that she had angered him.

Krista cursed herself as she watched him rush down the tunnel as fast as he could; the torch he was carrying acting like a beacon.

“Quiet!” Krista screamed at the women out of frustration and anger; they risked alerting the Romans to their presence and they were slowly eating away at Krista’s patience.

With the earth still shaking around them and a tremendous fear of being buried alive, Krista urged them on as fast as possible without alerting the Romans but most of these people weren’t warriors.

They didn’t understand Krista’s urgency for silence but they shared her desire to leave the tunnel.

And soon the air was growing lighter and the flames, which had slowly been dying, roared to life in the torch Krista cradled in her palm.

The floor suddenly inclined upwards and Krista saw the exit; it was not a large guarded gate that led into the bowels of the arena but a simple open doorway that led out into the forest.

Stepping out of the tunnel, feeling a weight lifted off her shoulders, Krista turned and gazed up at the sky, telling the time from the position of the moon, before she turned and looked at where they had come.

The doorway to the tunnel was barely recognisable. It merged with the scenery as it barely reached up from the ground.

Bushes and branches covered the entrance from wayward travellers; you could walk right past it and not know it was even there.

Krista was amazed that the tunnel had remained hidden for so long, when she turned back to her people and found them being led through the forest.

A line of bundled gladiators and liberated slaves now trekked through the forest, trying to put as much distance between them and the villa as possible.

But Krista still found herself looking back, her eyes searching the horizon for the villa when she found it; burning.

The property was lit up like a bonfire as the flames licked the night sky, reaching for the stars.

Krista was shocked at first but the longer she stood there, slipping to the back of the group, the more she understood the Romans.

The Romans were not sentimental; they did not hold on to things that they no longer had use for; they razed it to the ground like it had never existed in the first place.

Turning her back on the villa, Krista stopped mid-spin when the hair on the back of her neck started to rise and she heard a branch snap in the distance.

Holding the torch in her left hand, Krista searched the immediate area for any sign of life.

The air around her grew eerily quiet as her group moved further away, leaving her alone.

But Krista could not think about that as she kept perfectly still and simply listened to the wind; remembering Lazarus’s training sessions.

Tilting her head to the side, Krista closed her eyes as she focused her senses on hearing past the wind to everything that it covered.

A deer running through the undergrowth. An owl taking flight. A man hiding behind the tree to her left.

Opening her eyes, feeling a calm wash over her body, Krista continued to turn.

Pretending that she had heard nothing and was about to re-join her group, which had now moved beyond sight, Krista made sure that her path took her directly past the tree the soldier was hiding behind.

No soldier could resist such an easy attack.

Keeping her eyes forward, Krista’s ear twitched as she heard the man shuffle in the earth, ready to attack the moment she had stepped past the tree.

And as if it had been organised, the moment Krista’s foot stepped forward the roman solider spun out from his hiding place, sword drawn, and aiming for her body.

Krista barely flinched as she stepped to the side, avoiding the swing of his blade, before she easily sent the flames of her torch into his face.

The hot metal scolded his skin, the fire burning his flesh as his tortured screams filled the air, his sword dropping to the ground.

Krista watched him as he crumpled to his knees, his fingers quivering in front of his face as he tried to stop the burning.

Darting her eyes to the left, Krista spotted a further three roman soldiers run out of the shadows, heading straight for her.

Krista had the time to think that these soldiers knew nothing of strategy before she planted her boot firmly against the chest of the man knelt in front of her and kicked him into the dirt.

Wrapping her fingers around the handle of her sword, Krista unsheathed her blade and approached the trio of soldiers.

Attacking from the front, Krista barely had to think as she moved through the actions like clockwork.

Blocking a sword to her right, Krista sent a fierce kick into the first man’s stomach, causing him to stumble back.

Taking the opportunity, Krista hurtled the side of the torch against the second man’s face, the flames making a beautiful pattern in the black night sky.

The skin on his cheek started to melt under the heat as he was knocked to the ground unconscious whilst Krista turned her attention back to the last man.

His blue eyes hardened as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. Taking action into his own hands, the soldier stepped back and released his sword from hers before he took a precise swing at her stomach.

Jumping back out of the way, Krista was startled with the accuracy the young man wielded.

His blade almost sliced straight through her stomach and the baby that now grew inside of her.

A rage like none other sparked inside her chest, making her skin grow warm and a growl to be wrenched from her throat.

The man’s blue eyes started to widen as he gazed into her eyes, his sword faltering at what he there.

Gritting her teeth in anger, Krista strode forward and blocked a feeble strike of his blade with her flaming torch before she sunk her blade into his abdomen.

Gazing into the man’s eyes as she saw his face grimace in pain, Krista twisted the blade as she remembered the way he had almost struck her.

Once she saw the blood begin to froth from his lips and his eyes grow cold, Krista wrenched her sword from his stomach and let his dead body collapse to the ground.

Turning to look at the other bodies of the Roman’s she found one missing.

Gazing around her at the forest floor, she found the man who she had kicked in the chest to have vanished along with his sword.

Stepping up to where his body had been laying on the damp earth, beside that of the soldier she struck in the face, Krista followed his tracks with her eyes.

Krista took a step forward to track him down, when, from the floor beside her, there came a strange sound.

Looking down at her right, Krista saw the man she had burnt in the face gazing up at her with a defiant smile upon his lips despite the wound that now caused him to be unrecognizable.

Not taking kindly to his humour, Krista slipped the tip of her blade slowly into the flesh of his neck, watching second by second as she stole his life from him.

Once his body had gone limp, Krista removed her sword and wiped his blood off her sword on his own tunic.

Thinking only of the missing roman soldier, Krista turned away from Artorius and the others and headed back towards the villa.

She could not let him escape.

* * *

Rheia had escorted ‘The Destroyer’ into Rome and into the hands of the Empress, and had not seen him since.

Rheia saw this as a gift from the Gods; the Destroyer, whose identity she had only learnt upon their return, was an arrogant, stubborn beast of a man who, if she did not see for a thousand years, would be too soon.

Yet that morning it seemed the Gods were not on her side as she was called to fetch him to Pompeia’s side.

She understood that he had sent the first two messengers away with broken arms for intruding on his privacy.

Rheia did not like her privacy being invaded either but as slaves they learned to accept that the privacy was never their own.

Slipping through the streets, Rheia could not miss the fact that the streets had turned dark since Krista’s escape.

People no longer walked the cobbles at night; guards were stationed at every post and people rarely left the city as tales of Krista’s barbarity circled.

Stories of rape and murder under Krista’s reign had fuelled people’s fear and anger towards the slaves that still remained in the city walls.

Owners no longer simply beat their slaves they tortured them into submission and as Rheia looked into the eyes of women who were living, she could see that on the inside they were very much dead.

Krista had brought this, Rheia thought as she walked past another severely beaten young woman, and headed for town house in which ‘The Destroyer’ had been housed.

A man with over fifty bouts in the arena with no losses or draws; he brought shivers down Rheia’s spine.

She had been in the arena, fought upon its sands; and whilst he had only fought in the provinces, she knew exactly what this giant had faced and yet to not have lost a single battle was terrifying.

He was the only man to have won his freedom through battle.

Walking out from the slums of Rome, Rheia located the house and hurried inside.

The guards on duty stepped back to allow her entry, the wild screams of pleasure filling her ears.

Keeping herself in check, Rheia followed the noises of pitiful women straight through to the bathhouse where, lying upon a blanket of cushions in the far room was ‘The Destroyer’ enjoying himself with a young blonde thing.

Rheia’s eyes travelled over the man’s broad shoulders, down his back that rippled with muscles and scars, towards his narrow hips that were thrusting inside of the woman.

Stopping in front of the guards, waiting for them to step back, Rheia looked at them with shock when they refused.

“I am a soldier of Rome and bring a message from the Empress,” Rheia informed them, ordering them to let her past.

The man with dirt blonde hair and a cruel grimace across his lips scoffed, “A soldier of Rome? More like the whore of a slave.”

Rheia striked fast. Curling her fingers around his throat, Rheia shoved him back against the wall and felt his bones creaking under her grasp.

“I learned a lot of things when I was a slave in the arena,” Rheia leaned her face close to his, her lips brushing his cheek, “Shall I show you?”

The man’s skin was starting to grow red as he gasped for breath.

Tightening her grip for a second longer, Rheia threw the man to the ground and stepped over his scrawny figure and into the baths.

The girls who were lounged around quickly leaving after seeing what she had done to the guard.

‘The Destroyer’ had not noticed a thing as he picked up the pace; his hips pummelling into the girl that squealed in ecstasy or pain.

Rheia couldn’t be sure but she had urgent business for him to attend and she did not wish to remain there for a second longer than necessary.

But knowing that men were basest of creatures, she knew that he would not be able to respond until he found his release and so she allowed him his pleasure.

It didn’t take long; his breathing hitched and his tempo quickened before he let out a strangled scream of joy before collapsing above the girl who, obviously, had not found the same pleasure as the man above her.

“Leave,” Rheia ordered the girl once she saw her stood behind them.

‘The Destroyer’ turned onto his back, propping himself up against the cushions, and gazed up at her.

The smile that rested on his twisted lips turned into a flat line of anger upon seeing her.

“Roman,” He growled with anger as he reached for the wine.

Rheia did not understand his hatred for her kind, “Those whores you were fucking were Roman,” Rheia observed.

But it seemed he did not wish to argue the origins of his whores, “The Empress sent you,” It wasn’t a question.

“She wishes to speak with you,” Rheia looked down on him, seeing many a naked man in her life that it no longer startled her.

“She may wish all she likes,” The Destroyer got to his feet and approached her, making Rheia straighten her shoulders and prepare for attack, “I am not finished here,”

Rheia looked around her at the empty room, “Your whores have gone,” She saw the look of anger and surprise on his face, “Get dressed and meet out front in ten minutes or I’ll make sure that you’ll never have need of a whore again,”

Rheia gave him a small smile before she turned and left the room.