The Forgotten Legion

'I'm sorry,' he whispered, but his words fell on deaf ears.

Gallo's features went slack and a dribble of spit ran from his lips.

The haruspex twisted the dagger to make sure.

There was a burst of laughter from the crowd as a ripe tomato flew through the air to hit Crassus' bodyguard in the face. It was followed by a hail of red fruit. Intent on revenge, the bruised street urchin had returned with plenty of reinforcements. Wearing little more than rags, the gang of filthy children screamed with glee as they hurled their stolen tomatoes at the guard. He cursed and swept his blade at them, but they easily dodged his half-blinded attempts. Men smiled and pointed, shouting encouragement at both sides. Nobody was paying attention to the two soldiers any longer.

It was the perfect opportunity for Tarquinius. Gently he lowered Gallo to the ground, turning him face down so that the red stain on his chest wasn't visible. Then he plunged into the crowd, taking a direct line towards the nearest street off the Forum. Within two dozen paces, he would no longer be discernible to those on the temple steps. Even if the fools noticed, they wouldn't be able to catch him.

But the chance encounter with Gallo had been a close escape. It must not happen again. Tarquinius stepped into an alleyway and took off his bloody cloak, wrapping it around the axe. He would have to be even more cautious and from now on, the distinctive weapon would stay in his lodgings. No one must suspect who the Etruscan was and why he was in Rome.

The smell of cooking pork from a nearby stall reached Tarquinius' nostrils and his stomach rumbled in response. Reaching into his purse, the haruspex walked calmly towards the tantalising odour. A smile played across his lips.

Parthia. Olenus had been right yet again.

Chapter IX: Lentulus

Ludus Magnus gladiator school, 56 BC

Romulus did not feel safe climbing into his cot with Lentulus only a few feet away, but he had nowhere else to go. The ludus was full of tough men, none of whom had offered him shelter after the fight. Not even Cotta.

He cursed.

Memor was probably hoping the argument would be settled that night with a quiet knife between the ribs for one of them. It was not how Romulus wished to finish the quarrel, but the Goth could not be trusted. Unsure what to do, he lingered in the starlit yard long after other fighters had returned to their cells. The spot where Flavus had died was still obvious, marked by several dark stains on the sand. Romulus shuddered. It had been so easy to stab the murmillo, but the enormity of the killing was begi

He was truly a gladiator now.

'First time?'

Romulus turned with a start to see Bre

'Yes.' He paused before the words came in a rush. 'I gave Flavus a chance. Told him to release Astoria, but he didn't think I was serious.'

'The prick deserved to die. Unlike many you'll meet. You do have to kill them though, or you'll end up dead.'

Romulus eyed the largest bloodstain, imagining lying injured on the sand. Flavus' life had bled away in a few agonising moments. Regret surged through his veins. The murmillo had not done anything to him directly. Then he remembered Flavus' offer to the other gladiators.

'They wanted to rape Astoria,' he muttered.

The Gaul frowned. 'Is that why you stabbed him?'

'Partly.' Guilt mixed with anger in the young man's face. I should have told Bre

Bre

The big fighter was visibly pleased. 'No one else tried to help, did they?'

Romulus shook his head. 'I wish it had been Gemellus, though.'

'Who?'

'The merchant who sold me. Bastard also sold my sister to a whorehouse. Gods alone know what he 's done to Mother.'

Bre

Romulus took the grip. 'There 's just Lentulus to deal with now.'

'Nothing to worry about,' Bre

'Yes.'

'Good name.'

'Does killing get any easier?' Romulus spoke with a little awe.

'In some ways.' Bre

Romulus found himself liking the Gaul, but he detected real sadness in his voice. Despite his fearsome reputation, Bre

'Need somewhere to sleep?'

He nodded.

'I wouldn't want to close my eyes with that little bastard near me either.' Bre

Romulus studied the darkened yard uneasily. He wasn't sure what to do.

'It's the least I can do.' Bre

Romulus had no real option apart from returning to his own bed. He shrugged and walked curiously into Bre

The room was plain, holding little furniture. A decent-sized bed sat at one end, a couple of wool rugs scattered nearby. Bread and meat lay unfinished on a battered wooden table. Two racks at the foot of the cot held more weapons than he thought one man could own. Shields and spears were stacked untidily against the walls and other pieces of equipment filled any remaining spaces. It was the living space of a champion gladiator.

As he entered, Astoria beamed at him. 'Thank you again, Romulus.'

'It was nothing.' Romulus bobbed his head, embarrassed.

'It was more than that. The man had a knife at my throat.'

Romulus gri

'It was well done.' Bre

Astoria handed him a piece of bread and a thick slice of beef. Bre

Romulus watched. Few other gladiators in the ludus used a similar one. 'Why do you use that?'

'It's the blade of my own people.' Bre

Romulus stared at the floor, flushing. He was not yet big enough to fight with the sword.

'You haven't fought for real yet, have you?'

'No.'

'I've seen you practising at the palus. Not bad.'

Romulus swelled with pride that Bre

The Gaul's voice hardened. 'But Lentulus will slice you up if you're not careful.'

'So what must I do?' He was all ears.

'I've seen him fight before. That Goth's cocky,' warned Bre

Time to think.'

Romulus chewed thoughtfully on the meat and bread. Cotta was a good teacher, but some in the ludus said that he taught old, outdated techniques.

While Bre