Simon Scarrow - Arena

‘Of course not, your majesty!’ Murena spluttered. ‘I would never dream of conspiring against a fellow freedman. Narcissus is clearly mistaken.’

Narcissus glared at him. ‘I don’t think so, Murena.’

The aide shook his head. ‘You have no proof to support this preposterous claim, Narcissus. Indeed, your very presence here exposes your lies. If I had paid some retired thugs to dispose of you, then why are you standing here before us?’

‘Oh, but I have proof.’ Narcissus folded his arms smugly across his chest and nodded to a figure standing amid the throng of German bodyguards. Ruga stepped forward and stood beside him. Pavo looked at Murena. There was a definite flicker of fear in the aide’s eyes, he thought. Murena swallowed hard and glared at the retired gladiator.

‘You …’ he hissed.

‘Publius Didius Ruga is not the one to blame here, your majesty,’ Narcissus went on in a measured, calculating tone of voice. ‘Ruga was bribed by Murena into taking part in a despicable plot with several of his retired gladiator comrades to kill me if Pavo lost his fight against Hermes.’

Murena countered frantically, ‘These men are telling lies, your majesty!’

Claudius kept his gaze on Murena as Narcissus spoke. ‘I am telling the truth. And Ruga here can confirm what I have to say. Murena ordered Ruga and his comrades to lie in wait in one of the alleys near the imperial palace. When he believed that Pavo was losing the fight, he gave the signal for one of the servants to lure me away from your side, your majesty, on the pretext that I was required at the palace on urgent business. Ruga and his comrades were then to ambush me in the alley.’ Narcissus paused and smiled sardonically. ‘A bold plan, I must say, if somewhat clumsy in its execution.’

‘Outrageous lies!’ Murena threw up his arms, his face burning with fury.

Narcissus ignored him and continued. ‘Mercifully I already had my suspicions after Gnaeus Sentius Cornicen, the imperial lanista, reported to me that Murena had taken a special interest in training Pavo. I knew he was up to something. Thankfully Ruga refused to carry out the task; his first duty is to Rome, like any good Roman’s, and he reported the ruse to his former employer, Senator Macula, late last night. The senator is a good friend of mine and he came straight to me with the news.’

Murena was speechless. Silence fluttered over the arena. Pavo looked on, scarcely able to believe what he was hearing. Now he understood why Narcissus had left the imperial box during the fight. He recalled what Murena had said when the aide had visited him in training the previous day. Pallas and I will do whatever is necessary to stay in power.

Claudius stared at the aide for a moment before turning his gaze on Ruga. ‘W-w-well?’

Ruga bowed his head and nodded. ‘It’s true, your majesty.’

‘These men are trying to deceive you, your majesty.’ Murena looked pleadingly at the Emperor. ‘I swear to all the gods, I had no hand in any such plot. Narcissus is attempting to turn you against me.’

Narcissus rolled his eyes at the aide. ‘For gods’ sakes, don’t beg. It is rather unseemly, even for a freedman.’

‘Your majesty, I would never-’

‘Silence!’ Claudius yelled, suddenly flushed with anger. Murena’s lips quivered with fear as the Emperor turned to Pallas. ‘Did y-y-you have anything to d-do with this t-treachery?’

Pallas feigned innocence while Murena visibly shook with fear a short distance away from him. ‘I swear, your majesty, this is the first I have heard of these vile allegations. I assure you that my aide acted without my knowledge or permission in this affair.’

That appeared to satisfy Claudius. He scowled at Murena and waved to the guards. ‘T-t-take this despicable t-traitor to the Mamertine! He can w-w-wait there until we c-crucify him tomorrow.’

Murena’s eyes went wide with horror. Snivelling, he dropped to his knees in front of the Emperor. ‘Please, most gracious majesty, I beg of you, let me live!’

The Emperor’s expression hardened. ‘Get to your f-f-feet, Murena. A man should e-e-embrace death with dignity.’

With that Claudius gave a stiff nod of his head and the guards dragged Murena towards the tunnel entrance, the aide screaming for mercy. Narcissus smiled as the crowd began to chant, ‘Crucifixion for Murena! Crucifixion for Murena!’ The spectators around the stadium were delighted that the day’s entertainment had not ended with the gladiator fight. Turning away from Murena, the Emperor waved a frail hand at the men who were holding Pavo.

‘R-r-release the gladiator. He has p-p-proved a noble swordsman.’

The guards obediently stepped away from Pavo. The young gladiator clutched the throbbing wound on his bicep and flashed a dark look at the Praetorians. He was beginning to understand why Optio Macro hated them. Claudius pursed his lips and considered Pavo for a moment.

‘Perhaps I was w-w-wrong about you,’ the Emperor mused. ‘Rome needs m-more men such as yourself. There are f-few heroes these days. Too few to waste, while b-barbarians mass along our f-f-frontiers. You are free to g-go, young Pavo.’

Pavo looked astounded. Something like joy fluttered in his chest. He sank to his knees. Freedom. He had never thought he would taste it again. For a moment he was unable to speak. Drained from his fight, weary from the months of deprivation, he managed a half-hearted smile at Claudius.

‘Thank you, your majesty.’

‘Y-you have earned it, young m-man. In blood.’ The Emperor paused and considered something. ‘A freedman needs money, especially a gladiator who has been f-f-fighting without any bounty. I sh-shall see to it that your family estate in A-Antium is returned to y-you.’

Pavo’s smile widened slightly. He had spent many a holiday at the villa in Antium as a child. And the land surrounding the estate would provide a modest income.

Claudius abruptly dismissed Pallas and Narcissus from the arena and waved to a pair of attendants. One of them bore a silver urn filled with coins. The other carried a palm leaf. The Emperor looked at Pavo as the attendants swept across the arena.

‘Now, to your f-f-feet, Pavo,’ Claudius intoned. ‘It is time for y-you to accept your title — Champion of the Arena …’

As the sun set over the imperial palace the next day, Pavo made his way down the marble entrance steps, clutching his wooden rudis of freedom. After the arena had emptied the previous afternoon, Claudius had ordered that the grandstands should remain in place for the following day’s crucifixion. A sizeable crowd had turned up to watch Murena’s execution. With both Lanatus and the aide to the imperial secretary dead, Pavo could rest easy. No one else was aware of his involvement in the conspiracy to kill Claudius, and Murena’s desperate accusations against him had fallen on deaf ears. Pavo had been invited to the imperial palace following the public crucifixion to receive his rudis in person from Claudius in front of a large assembly of dignitaries. Although officially he could not reclaim his place among the senatorial class, the respect his father’s peers showed him was obvious. Bravery was a rare commodity in Rome. Rarer than it ought to be, Pavo reflected.

Ruga and Bucco had been present to watch Pavo receive his freedom. In recognition of his help in training the gladiator to victory and exposing the conspiracy against Narcissus, Ruga had been given a new job as an imperial bodyguard, escorting functionaries as they went about their civic duties around Rome. Bucco had told Pavo that he intended to pursue his career as a comedy actor. At the end of the ceremony he had bid Pavo a warm farewell and the two men had sworn to remain friends. Pavo had a feeling they would be seeing each other again before too long.