Chasing Blue- The Final Saga (Book 4)

Chapter 19: Chasing the Blue

Follow the Blues...

Our trip to find the Blue Team took us back to familiar stomping grounds; the open-air gymnasium in the middle of the baths. The fresh air from the open roof seemed to diffuse the smells of oil and sweat emanating from hundreds of bodies exerting themselves to and fro the courtyard. The only thing Caetus told us on our way to the palaestra was that Claudius' son was injured over six months ago and since then has not returned to chariot racing. How serious his injuries were Caetus would not say. As we settled onto the wooden bench placed in the shade of the portico, a young lanky fellow wearing nothing more than loincloth approached.

He grinned. "Caetus. There you are. What was the surprise you have been keeping from us?" the young man exclaimed as his long legs scampered across the dirt floors of the palaestra.

"These are the surprises. They are the new recruits I was telling you about," Caetus answered.

"So you are the trainees that Caetus has been talking about! Welcome to the team, men," he said, wearing a toothy grin. His sweaty palms gripped my cold hands before pulling me into a tight hug.

"My name is Cato." His deep tone did not match his youthful face.

"Troy is the name."

"Nice meeting you, Troy. Good you can join the Blue team. And who is the other young fellow by you?"

"His name is..." I began—

"Clitus," he interjected. I tossed Clitus an apologetic gaze, who stood fidgeting with his fingers. I was so used to answering for him, but Clitus was learning to speak for himself. I did not have to be his mouthpiece.

Cato laughed. "You two are brothers or something?"

Caetus rolled his eyes.

I shook my head. "We are just good acquaintances." Cato merely nodded.

"Do they even look alike?" Caetus sneered.

Cato shrugged. "Well, everyone looks the same to me. Troy does have darker, curlier hair though. That is the main difference. If you were to look at my brother and me we do not look anything alike. In fact my younger brother was born with a head full of blond curls while I have straight brown hair. I have no idea where he got it from. Imagine that Caetus," he replied smartly.

"I think we can establish they are not brothers. They know of each other. End of story. Now where is the rest of the team?" Caetus asked in a terse voice.

Cato grinned. "I thought you would never ask."

Cato eagerly escorted us to the inner chambers used as meeting rooms. The rest of the team was waiting in the inner chamber past the library which contained shelves of endless dusty scrolls and codices along the tiers of shelves along the walls. The rooms here though seemed to escape the luminance that basked the huge bathing rooms in warm bright lights. The once lively colors of the frescos now reflected duller shades of browns, greens, and blues. Down the main corridor, every footstep could be heard clapping the tiles. Only a few men lingered this far down. Finally we arrived.

"Troy, Clitus, this is Magnus," Cato said with a sweeping gesture. The man rose from his stool, towering head and shoulders over us. With broad squared shoulders and limbs that resembled tree trunks, his body was shaped more like a fighter than a racer. His pale blue eyes studied us for a moment before extending a handshake. A deep voice resonated from his throat as a warm smile followed the customary greeting.

"These are the new recruits. Perhaps you can tell us a little about yourself," Caetus added, pivoting to Magnus.

"Welcome. I am the oldest member of the group. They say at thirty I should have long retired but I have more fight in me left. This has been my source of living for almost half my life, starting as a slave. During my career I amassed many wins over the years. I am the veteran of the group so if you want to know how to survive in this sport then I am your man," he said pointing to his broad chest. I watched as two other men filed into the room. Each of them wore blue tunics.