Gladiator of Rome (#1 in Gladiator Series)

Chapter 29

Chapter 29

It had begun to rain.

At first, the light patter of water barely made a mark as the remaining gladiators filled the training arena, but as the air became humid the rain soon grew heavy.

The gladiators of Ludus Magnus watched as the roman guards marched into their school, their eyes deadpan as they stared straight ahead and dragged a body behind them.

Leonidas broke forth from the crowd, the rain running off his skin in droplets, when he noticed the body of a woman being dragged along the floor, arrows sticking out of her chest.

"Myra," Leonidas whispered as he recognised the girl's face. He had seen her, following Krista like a child ever since she had saved her that night in the baths.

Her blood marked a trail behind her but it was soon washed away by the rain that now pelted the concrete slabs, storm clouds starting to roll in until they blocked the sky.

It was as if the heavens were mourning for Myra's soul.

After dropping Myra's body on the ground, as if she was nothing more than a sack of potatoes, the guards broke formation and formed a line, dividing them from the Empress.

Leonidas watched as the power sick woman strode across the grass that they had sweated and bled upon for her entertainment.

Dressed in wisps of black silk, the Empress seemed unimpressed about having to be there.

Holding herself in high esteem, a tent was held over her head to sheild her from the rain, whilst all those around her grew wet and cold from the elements.

"Brave gladiators of Rome!" The Empress called out but her voice held no love or gratitude towards them, "I bear you sad news. Your honourable Commander Niclaus has been killed."

Whispers erupted through the crowd as the news rippled outwards from the Empress but it was soon silenced when a royal guard stepped forward. 

Each of them had known the pain of a rod against their flesh for speaking out of turn. 

"I can assure you that your Commander's murderer has been brought to justice," A slick smile spread across the Empress's face whilst Leonidas looked around him in fear.

Krista had been captured?

"This slave," Pompeia pointed to Myra's body at her feet, "was conspiring with the killer. And I assure you that the Commander's killer shall taste the same full whip of justice that her heinous crimes against Rome call for."

Leonidas's chest rumbled with anger as Pompeia declared that Krista would suffer the same fate as Myra, when movement caught his eye.

Turning his head, Leonidas saw Rheia stepping through the crowd.

Her black hair had become plastered to her bronze skin from the rain and her eyes were glued to image of Myra's dead body upon the cobbles.

The guards in the distance placed their hands upon theirs swords in warning. 

Sensing the air shift beside him, Leonidas turned and saw Frieda.

Her stark blue eyes cut through the air like daggers as she heard about Krista.

Myra had not been a warrior, she had not asked for this life. She had not deserved her fate and yet the Empress thought she was allowed to kill her without consequence.

"In light of these events," Pompeia continued as the air grew ripe with discontent, "The Inaugural Games have been cancelled."

Rheia turned and gazed up at Leonidas with the shared feeling of anger.