Swords of Rome

Across from Gaius and Antony, one of the gates similar to the one they were now hanging from opened up. Seconds later, as the crowd began to roar, throwing down flower petals that fluttered like rain, five men, bigger than any Gaius had ever seen, emerged from the darkness and stepped out into the arena; arms help up as the crowd cheered furiously for them.

Antony roared as loud as his lungs could muster, but Gaius' own mouth stayed closed as he studied each of the men, who stood in the center of the arena, in a perfect half circle waiting for their opponent to enter.

The five men, three white, two black-ski

Their powerful, well-toned bodies glistened in the falling sun as they stood proud, taking in the endless admiration from the audience who cheered each of their names. They knew what the next match meant, that unlike most gladiator bouts, this one would be fought to the death. However, they waited, absorbing the energy from the crowd, ready and willing to do what was demanded of them for the pleasure of the mob.

“Now, for our main attraction!” the editor called out as the loud as he could; arms raised as the eyes of thousands turned back towards him. “The man you've all come to see. The greatest warrior to walk the Earth since the time of Achilles, Hector, Heracles or Cinci

The a

Antony, while he didn’t know who Calfax was, was so swept up in the excitement that he cheered as loud as the audience, or at least tried. Even this low to the arena floor, Gaius could barely hear his friend’s joyful admiration for the gladiator.

The gladiator Calfax wore a tight-fitting Spartan helmet, made of bronze, which was topped with a bright red feathered crest. He was bare-chested; his torso and arms lined with hundreds of scars that stood out even more with the oils that had been rubbed over his body and muscles before he stepped into the arena. In his hand, he carried two swords, no shield. One sword was curved, a falcate, while the other blade was a short dagger, about half the length of the other.

Once the crowd began to die down, each of the gladiators looked up towards the fat editor of the games. He was seated with several other men and women of notice, each dressed in expensive clothing and adorn with jewels and gold. Gaius recognized Varro among them too. He figured they were the financiers of the games, so were awarded the best seats.

Gaius turned his attention back towards the gladiators as each of them spoke the oath, “ We who are about to die, salute you.”

It took Gaius a few moments to realize that Calfax was going to be squaring off against the five gladiators on his own. And as the five men lowered their weapons, staring with focused attention on the lone Spartan, the crowd once again erupted into a frenzy of excitement.

Gaius felt his mouth dry as he watched, never taking his eyes off of Calfax, who stood, seemingly unconcerned. He kept his focus forward, on one of the dark-ski

Gaius looked down at Antony, who seemed to be climbing the bars as high as they would take him. He was yelling with the crowd as his eyes were fixated on the six men who were nearly close enough that the two boys could smell their sweat. And then, as Gaius turned, the first strike came, suddenly and without warning.

Gaius felt his heart skip a beat as he watched one of the white-ski

Calfax struck down with his right blade, which cut deep into the man’s upper arm.

The man, who wore no helmet, screamed. However, his cries of pain were silenced a fraction of a second later as Calfax stepped quickly to the side and struck with his dagger, tearing through the nape of the man’s neck, severing his spinal cord before the tip of the blade tore through the front of his throat.

Blood squirted from the wound like a fountain of red water, which sent the crowd roaring as Calfax drew first blood, with amazing speed and ferocity.

Gaius glanced toward Antony once he realized his friend’s cheers had suddenly stopped. What he saw now was a pale-faced young boy bent over near the corner of the gate, vomiting up everything the two had eaten before the fight.

As he turned back around to the arena floor, Calfax ran his dagger through the stomach of the second dark-ski

A sword came at Calfax’s head as his back was turned momentarily. Sensing that the strike was coming, he ducked just in time as the blade sliced across the red crest of his helmet.

Calfax sliced his sword across the man’s knee before he dropped hard onto the ground, clutching his wound as tendons were easily cleaved.

As Calfax rose back to his feet, he drove his bloodied dagger into the man’s face, sticking him through the left eye, where he kept the blade.

Gaius continued to watch as the remaining two gladiators struggled to overpower the veteran, who, despite his age was as nimble as a cat. A moment later, another man, the largest in size and height went down from another series of savage blows from Calfax, who drove the edge of his sword across the man’s throat.

The last gladiator, the dark-ski

The crowd released more of their building rage of excitement as Calfax swung down with his sword, cleaving into the dark-ski

The dark-ski

Gaius was close enough to hear the dark-ski

Calfax swung; the tip of his sword sliced across the dark-ski