The Forgotten Legion

At this, one of the slaves gave him a cursory glance. He was not troubled by what he saw. A small shape, wrapped in an old cloak. Probably a leper. Nothing six burly men couldn't handle.

Arguing over who wanted what type of girl and in what way, the nobles passed through the arched doorway and out of sight. The slaves were left to stand outside until such time as their masters' pleasure had been sated. Tarquinius stirred. Inevitably, their attention would be drawn to him, the only beggar left on the street. And there were too many of them for him to attack Caelius anyway. Tarquinius was not troubled by this. Now was not the time.

Scooping up his gladius in a fold of his cloak, he stood up awkwardly, affecting a bad limp. No one even watched as he shuffled off into the gloom.

One of the narrow alleyways close by would serve as a hiding place until Caelius and his friends emerged. It would be easy to follow the equestrians home. When Tarquinius knew where the arrogant noble was staying, he and Secundus could keep watch night and day. Pick an opportune time to strike. The haruspex smiled, offering up a prayer of thanks. His long years of waiting and remembering were nearly over.

Olenus would be avenged. Soon.

Chapter XV: The Arena

The Ludus Magnus, Rome, late summer 55 BC

Bright sunlight pouring through the window woke Romulus. Bre

'Time to kill Figulus and Gallus.' The Gaul had woken. He sighed heavily. 'And settle this once and for all.'

Romulus nodded and kept moving. The end of the vendetta would be a relief to him too.

Bre

Bre

'No.'

'By all the gods! Sooner we get you to the arena, the better.' Bre

Once he had warmed up, they do

'Use the same shield you fought Lentulus with.'

'What about you?'

Bre

Romulus strapped on his gladius, eyeing Bre

'Be careful.' Astoria seemed worried as she kissed the blond warrior. 'Stay together.'

'Stop fussing, woman!' Bre

He swaggered outside without looking back. Romulus nodded nervously at the Nubian and followed.

Most of the gladiators had gathered in the yard to do stretches or sharpen weapons. Fifty men in full armour, ready for battle, was an impressive sight. A dozen retiarii stood, tridents and nets ready, beside ten burly Thracians. Murmillones with their characteristic fish crest helmets, mailed right shoulders and round shields were there. Wearing plumed helmets, Samnites carried rectangular scuta, their thighs covered by fasciae of leather with greaves protecting the lower legs. Sextus and three other scissores stood off to one side. A group of secutores, dressed similarly to Romulus, completed the tally.

'It should be interesting today,' said the short Spaniard, inclining his head in recognition. He had refrained from joining in the ongoing feud. Such was Sextus' reputation that Romulus' enemies did not make trouble if he was nearby. Only Bre

'Figulus and Gallus want blood,' replied Romulus, feeling he could trust Sextus enough to confide in him.

'I heard something along those lines.' Sextus hefted the double-headed axe with a wink. 'Keep an eye out for you.'

'Thank you.'

'You would do the same for me.'

'I would.' Pleased to be recognised as an equal at last, Romulus gri

Sextus and his fellows provided a critical part of the ludus' fighting capability.

Most gladiators were absolutely terrified of the lethal axemen, who could cut down the unwary with ease.

Soon all fighters bar the four trusted scissores were forced to have a light chain placed around their necks. Two long files formed up in the yard, held together by iron links. Dressed in a fine belted tunic and carrying a staff topped by a metal hook, Memor led the fighters out through the gate.

Extra hired archers patrolled alongside, maintaining a wary distance from the heavily armed men.

The journey to the Forum Boarium began as a real pleasure for Romulus. Since his arrival there had been few outings from the ludus. Even a favourite like Bre

Whistles and cries of encouragement filled the air as the procession went by. Ahead of the gladiators groups of acrobats tumbled and rolled, delighting the crowds. Men bearing statues of Mars, Nemesis and Nike, the goddess of victory, took up the rear, flanked by musicians clashing cymbals and pounding drums. Women made lewd comments at their favourite fighters. Everyone supported the Ludus Magnus, the local gladiator school.

The onlookers knew nothing of the ongoing feud.

Suddenly Romulus felt keen to get to the arena. Many would die in the forthcoming contest and if their enemies succeeded, he and Bre

He glanced at the Gaul. Bre

Romulus took a deep breath and wiped the sweat off his face. 'Quite warm already.'

'It will be like Hades by midday.'

'At least we won't be fighting then.'

'Poor bastard venatores,' said Bre

Romulus was glad he had never seen an animal hunt before, usually the first performance of the day. Stories were common of hungry lions tearing gladiators limb from limb, and elephants trampling men underfoot like firewood. Venatores did not live for long and he had only escaped such a career because of his bravery on the day Gemellus sold him. That, or the intervention of the gods.

Passing through the city gates, they reached the Campus Martius, the plain of Mars. It was the site of elections to the magistracy and the place where citizens were sworn into the army. Pompey's new complex had transformed the huge open space. The most blatant attempt to win popularity ever seen, it contained an ornate people 's theatre, a chamber for the Senate, a house for Pompey and a majestic temple to Venus. Every few moments, a great roar rose up from the packed auditorium.