Aurelia had predicted Caladus would not leave the arena alive today.
“Your victory will be your death. Your victory will be your death,” the old women croaked over and over again the night before as her boney fingers picked through the entrails of the small lamb she had Caladus slaughter as a sacrifice to the war god Mars.
Caladus cursed her and threw two coins at her feet.
“I am Caladus, the Emperor’s champion,” he bellowed confidently as he flung open the flimsy door and stormed out of the old woman’s modest shack.
The gladiator at Caladus’ feet covered the two deep stab wounds in his belly with both hands; blood seeped through his fingers and stained his hands red. The muscles in his upper body strained hard as he tried to endure the fiery pain in his gut. He struggled to keep his head and shoulders off the sand but both he and Caladus knew the wounds were fatal. Even a merciful wave of the emperor’s hand could not save the young gladiator from Pluto’s hammer.
The defeated gladiator took his last whiff of this world; his massive chest heaved up and down for the last time. His arms fell to his sides. Blood flowed from the two deep cuts in his belly and ran down both sides of his bare muscular torso, staining the sand beneath him.
The battle had been only mildly entertaining...Caladus’ sword had easily found an opening in the young gladiator’s feeble defenses and his blade cut deep into the gladiator’s muscular bare belly. The gladiator then attempted an overhead blow but Caladus caught the gladiator’s sword arm in the air as it descended...the clumsy attack left the gladiator’s abdomen exposed and vulnerable. Caladus pulled back his sword arm and brutally drove his blade into the gladiator’s gut, running him completely through.
Although trained as a Thracian, Caladus never wore any of the traditional armor of a Greek. To the delight of the women spectators, and many of the men too, Caladus chose vanity over armor and preferred to fight wearing only a short tunic around his waist and a visored helmet on his head. His impressively muscled body was fully exposed as he fought. Both women and men would swoon as Caladus’ smooth muscular torso glistened in the afternoon sun as he wielded his sword in battle.
Caladus stood over the dead gladiator’s body and gripped his sword tighter in his hand as he flexed every muscle in his upper body in celebration of his victory and in defiance of the old woman’s prophecy of his death.
The roaring crowd suddenly became subdued when a centurion leapt from the emperor’s box and charged Caladus from behind with a spear in his hands. When Caladus turned to face the royal spectator box with his beefy arms raised triumphantly above his head, the centurion viciously speared Caladus through the belly.
“I am Caladus, the Emperor’s champion,” he bellowed confidently as he flung open the flimsy door and stormed out of the old woman’s modest shack.
The gladiator at Caladus’ feet covered the two deep stab wounds in his belly with both hands; blood seeped through his fingers and stained his hands red. The muscles in his upper body strained hard as he tried to endure the fiery pain in his gut. He struggled to keep his head and shoulders off the sand but both he and Caladus knew the wounds were fatal. Even a merciful wave of the emperor’s hand could not save the young gladiator from Pluto’s hammer.
The defeated gladiator took his last whiff of this world; his massive chest heaved up and down for the last time. His arms fell to his sides. Blood flowed from the two deep cuts in his belly and ran down both sides of his bare muscular torso, staining the sand beneath him.
The battle had been only mildly entertaining...Caladus’ sword had easily found an opening in the young gladiator’s feeble defenses and his blade cut deep into the gladiator’s muscular bare belly. The gladiator then attempted an overhead blow but Caladus caught the gladiator’s sword arm in the air as it descended...the clumsy attack left the gladiator’s abdomen exposed and vulnerable. Caladus pulled back his sword arm and brutally drove his blade into the gladiator’s gut, running him completely through.
Although trained as a Thracian, Caladus never wore any of the traditional armor of a Greek. To the delight of the women spectators, and many of the men too, Caladus chose vanity over armor and preferred to fight wearing only a short tunic around his waist and a visored helmet on his head. His impressively muscled body was fully exposed as he fought. Both women and men would swoon as Caladus’ smooth muscular torso glistened in the afternoon sun as he wielded his sword in battle.
Caladus stood over the dead gladiator’s body and gripped his sword tighter in his hand as he flexed every muscle in his upper body in celebration of his victory and in defiance of the old woman’s prophecy of his death.
The roaring crowd suddenly became subdued when a centurion leapt from the emperor’s box and charged Caladus from behind with a spear in his hands. When Caladus turned to face the royal spectator box with his beefy arms raised triumphantly above his head, the centurion viciously speared Caladus through the belly.
AAAAAaaaaahhhhh!!! Caladus bellowed.
The centurion rammed his spear into Caladus’ gut with such fury that the spearhead was driven completely through Caladus’ thickly muscled torso and broke through the skin on his back.
Caladus reeled back and grabbed the shaft of the spear with both hands. He fell back against the stone wall of the arena and was dead within moments.
The emperor had a sizable wager that Caladus would die in the arena this day and whether his death came from the blade of his opponent’s sword or whether impaled on a centurion’s spear was of no consequence to the emperor. And the governor of Varese with whom the emperor wagered was in no position to quibble about such minor details.
Aurelia knelt at the emperor’s feet and, although blind, she saw all.
“Your victory will be your death, Caladus,” she whispered as a wry smile came to her wrinkled lips.
The centurion rammed his spear into Caladus’ gut with such fury that the spearhead was driven completely through Caladus’ thickly muscled torso and broke through the skin on his back.
Caladus reeled back and grabbed the shaft of the spear with both hands. He fell back against the stone wall of the arena and was dead within moments.
The emperor had a sizable wager that Caladus would die in the arena this day and whether his death came from the blade of his opponent’s sword or whether impaled on a centurion’s spear was of no consequence to the emperor. And the governor of Varese with whom the emperor wagered was in no position to quibble about such minor details.
Aurelia knelt at the emperor’s feet and, although blind, she saw all.
“Your victory will be your death, Caladus,” she whispered as a wry smile came to her wrinkled lips.
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