Michelle Styles - The Gladiator's Honor

The last words cut through the ropes that bound his mind.

Valens straightened, lifted his shield and sword, prepared to attack

'I never begged you.'

'You always begged me.' Aquilia grinned as he circled the net above his head. 'As you will beg me soon to end your life.'

Valens heard the net hiss, dropped to the ground and rolled away from it. Sand and grit filled his nose and mouth. He rose to his feet and stared back at the glowering gladiator whose every breath radiated menace. Aquilia slapped his thigh with the trident three times.

'I'm waiting, boy.' Aquilia took a step forward. 'Waiting to hear your mewling cries, just as you did before. Crying for your gods to save you. Guess what—they didn't answer. You have been abandoned by everyone and everything you held dear. Nobody cares for you.'

Valens wiped a hand across his face and took control of his emotions. His mind cleared. The secret of Aquilia's success was obvious now. Aquilia used the fear he had installed in his captives as a pirate captain to numb his opponents, to make them lose their concentration and start making fatal errors. Valens smiled grimly. Aquilia cast his web of lies effectively but he had neglected one gaping hole. Julia. Now it remained to be seen if Aquilia was as good with his trident and net as he was with his words.

Valens crouched low and pretended to cower. Aquilia's grin widened. He cast the net again, throwing with a lazy and practised ease.

As the net arced through the air towards him, Valens reached out a hand. He grabbed the end with its silver weights, ignoring the sting as the weights hit his forearm, and pulled Aquilia towards him.

'Next time tell the truth.'

He released the net and Aquilia tumbled backwards, fuming. Valens hit his shield with his sword.

'Let's see if you are any better at fighting than you are at weaving stories to frighten the gullible. Let's see who is better—the tribune or the pirate.'

Julia gasped as she watched Valens's blade flash in the late afternoon sun. The arena was fall to groaning now and with each slash of the sword or block of the shield, the crowd began chanting another slogan.

First Valens pressed forward, trying to strike. Aquilia parried the stab with his trident, blocking and seeking an opening for his net. Twice she had thought Aquilia would trap him, beat him to the ground, but each time Valens managed to roll away, or sidestep at the last possible opportunity.

She pressed her hands together and wondered how long Valens could keep up the nimble footwork.

The heat, his armour and the head wound from last night all had to be telling, slowing him down. Julia tried to push the thought away and concentrate on how brilliantly Valens sidestepped a trident thrust and answered it with a downward : cut of his own.

The two combatants backed off and then rushed towards each other again.

She gave a small cheer as Aquilia stumbled, then Valens followed up with a sword thrust. Aquilia raised his trident and pushed away the sword.

The boisterous crowd grew silent as the intensity of the battle in the arena increased.

Julia tried to hide her eyes, to look away, but it was impossible. Every fibre of her being was intent on watching Valens battle for his life.

The net hissed, this time striking Valens on the shoulder, coiling around his midriff. Aquilia started to reel him in. Valens used his shield and knocked Aquilia sideways.

'Who's winning?' Julia whispered to Strabo. She had to know! Her nails made half-moon shapes on the palms of her hands as she waited for his answer.

'Hard to say,' Strabo answered. 'They have both scored points on the other But it is a good match.'

A good match? It was a life-and-death struggle! The man she loved was out there fighting for his life, for the amusement of others. Julia felt sickened to the core.

The fight continued with all its awfulness. With each blow, she was certain Valens would receive a mortal injury. She tore the top of her thumbnail off with her teeth and then proceeded to chew each of her other fingernails to the quick before going back to her thumb.

'Are there rules?' she asked.

Strabo laughed. 'The rule is there are no rules. We wait until one of them makes a mistake. The power and the grace of two gladiators in their prime. It makes me proud to be a Roman.'

Sweat poured down Valens's face as he began to feel the full force of the injury he had received last night. Aquilia's last parry had hit him squarely in the back of his helmet, sending green lights before his eyes. He fought to keep his footing in the sand that was slippery from the earlier bouts.

Valens staggered, and tried to regain his balance. He heard the siren call of the ground asking him to fall down, to give up and embrace the darkness.

He stumbled to his knees, felt the net strike his back and instinctively rolled away. He heard Aquilia's triumphant laugh against the blackness in his head and he struggled to right himself. The crowd began to shout 'He's had it' and knew they were talking about him.

'That's right,' Aquilia sneered. 'Give in to me—you Romans always do. Nobody cares whether you live or die. Tomorrow I will be their hero.'

Valens wiped his hand across his mouth and tried to hang on, too exhausted to keep trying. Aquilia's words started weaving a spell around his thoughts, tying them up, making him powerless to resist.

The chanting grew louder, filling his body. Aquilia's trident was poised to strike. Valens wondered if he had the strength to roll to his side, to avoid the prongs.

A woman's scream tore through his consciousness with one word— no . Valens lifted his head and saw Julia, her face pale as snow, her green gown vivid against the blue of Strabo's box. She was here! The inner reaches of his soul uncurled.

Strength flooded through him, a crazed strength from knowing that Julia was there. She had made her choice and had made it known in the most public way possible. She had chosen him. He had someone to fight for.

Valens used his shield and forced the trident back. The impact shuddered through his arm. He reached and grabbed the trident, sending it spinning from Aquila's grasp.

The crowd stopped chanting, as it held a collective breath. Aquilia stood, stunned, a bemused expression on his face. Then he snarled and flung the net, aiming over Valens's head.

With one motion, Valens brought his shield up and around, catching the net on the edge of the shield. He pulled it out of Aquilia's arm and with a great tearing noise, the net ripped in half.

Aquilia stood, deprived of his weapons, a blank dazed look on his face.

'Now who has had it?' Valens asked, grimly advancing with his sword outstretched. He had hated the thought of attacking a defenceless man, but Aquilia had not made any sign of surrender.

He took another step forward.

Aquilia fell to his knees, grovelled in the dirt and made a gesture of supplication, putting one finger of his left hand into the air. The crowd start to chant again—this time screaming Aquilia had had it, Aquilia was done for.

Valens nodded, lowered his sword then took a step backwards. The match had finished. Aquilia had appealed to Caesar for mercy.

Turning to face Caesar and wait for the signal to tell him what to do, Valens tensed, and willed himself not to think about the job he'd have to do if Caesar decided not to spare Aquilia.

Caesar paused, hand held out, thumb held horizontal to the ground. Politician to the core, he was waiting to hear the crowd's verdict, Valens thought, struggling to regain his breath.

Time stood still. The crowd became silent. One or two white handkerchiefs fluttered in the breeze. Caesar made no move as a trickle of sweat coursed down Valens's face. His own being concentrated on Caesar's hand.