Gladiator Tales

Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

I ran. I ran as hard as my legs could carry me. As I started off, the jar fell from my hands. It didn't matter anymore, there were more pressing concerns. It made a crash as it hit the earth. 'Come on, come on! Faster!' I thought to myself, 'Run like your life depends on it!' because it did. I could feel every last pair of eyes turning toward me as legionnaires shouted, "Catch that boy!"

'Run. Run, Run!' I screamed in my head as I flew. I was shouting so loud in my head I didn't even notice the man I ran past. CRACK. The whip snapped over me as my body arched forward in a useless attempt to avoid the pain that was already shooting up and down my spine.

A loud "Gah!" escaped my mouth as I fell to my knees. Right through my clothes, the whip tore a deep red gash from my right shoulder to my mid back. I clenched my teeth as the soldiers surrounded me. The pulled me to my knees, my mouth agape with pain.

"You fool!" they shouted, "How foolish to run from a soldier only to run in front of another!" They shouted other mocking statements as I attempted to regain any ounce of strength I could. I could feel the gash throbbing in and out. I half-lifted myself, and was half-lifted by soldiers to my feet as the crowd disappeared into their respective ranks. Each breath was a labor.

I stood, along with the two soldiers under the invariable desert sun. It felt as though the entirety of it was focused down my back, only aggravating the gash. Besides the throbbing, I could feel the flys, moving around and within it. It cause me huge amounts of pain, pain that I could not show however. I cringed but tried my best to hide it. I stuck my chin out in protest of myself. After what felt like days, a man only 2 inches taller than myself approached us. He quickly examined me, a look of surprise and impression on his face.

He looked me in the eyes and after a moment he spoke, "You are a very strong, persistent one. How old are you boy?" His gaze invariable as he spoke.

I held his gaze, attempting to decipher his motives. He was still slightly surprised and he seemed to hang on my next word. After no prevail, I sternly answered him.

"Fifteen" I said.

This made the man even more impressed. Almost immediately, he spun on his heel and walked back toward his officers. He whispered something into one of their ears. The officer's face lit up with surprise for a moment. Suddenly, his expression changed to a grim smile.

"Take the boy to the prisoner cart" he ordered the two holding me up. "I'll take him from there."

His grim smile grew as I was turned and escorted toward the cart. I moved as fast as I could, half limping, half dragged to the cart. The two men helped me up into the cart. The cart was little more than a wooden platform with wheels and benches lining the top of the longest sides. Before me sat six figures. I stood there examining them.

They were all men. Primarily men under the age of twenty-five it seemed. The majority of them were muscular. They held the appearance of a warrior. Many seemed to be nursing wounds sustained by battle, if my assumptions were correct. I recognized none of the men but I could tell they came from the desert. They were sprawled out in various ways in the cart, occupying most of the already limited space. I scanned their faces. Many of them had grimaces of pain and fear; none of them made eye contact with me.

"Hurry up!" a soldier said over his shoulder from atop the cart, "Trust me you don't want to fall off."

I winced as I made my best effort to not trip over the tangle of feet before me and sat toward the front, careful to not put weight on my back. The two soldiers that had helped me up closed the gate on the back. They knocked on the side of the cart to let the driver know he could go. It lurched forward as the horses pulling it began to march forward. Unprepared for the sudden movement, my body leaned to my right, causing my back to make contact with the wooden rails behind me. I writhed in a silent agony as I quickly pulled away and adjusted myself.