Gladiator of Rome (#1 in Gladiator Series)

Epilogue

Epilogue

As the battle ceased and the air grew silent once more, the wind crept softly through the trees and gently caressed the bodies which covered the ground like a guiding hand calling them to bed. And as it did so, sweeping up souls as it went, a slither of light broke through the dark clouds overhead. It shone down on a patch of earth where a single person was indiscernible from another, their bodies draped over each other until they were lying in a web of arms and legs and not knowing which belonged to them. And underneath this pile of human flesh came a sudden breath of life. 

Raspy and faint, it sounded like a man's last dying breath but then the person who caused it let out a sudden loud splutter, coughing up the decay which had seeped into their mouth and down their throat. The slither of light grew wider as the pile of bodies it illuminated began to shift and bulge from the centre, as if something was fighting to break free from its cage of flesh. 

Suddenly, after the bodies had risen and sunk no less than half a dozen times, desperate, wriggling fingers broke through the last barrier and felt the cool wind across their tips. Moments later the fingers were followed by hand and then an arm and a shoulder until a head broke through the gap, gasping for air. Heaving in the morning crisp air Krista blinked furiously against the light that momentarily blurred her vision. Looking around her at the mounds of earth, she tried to listen for the sounds of battle but all she heard was the distant chirping of birds. 

How long had she been unconscious for, Krista wondered when a new thought occurred to her; how had she survived?
As her vision cleared she could see that the dark undulations in the ground which she had perceived to be small mounds of mud and earth were instead piles of lifeless bodies. Looking closer, Krista saw small flies crawling out of the mouths and over the eye sockets of those nearest to her whilst other insects buzzed in the air around her like a swarm. As a fly landed on her cheek, Krista swatted it away with her hand when over the buzzing she heard something fluttering beside. Turning her head slowly, Krista flinched instinctively when a large crow opened it beaks and cawed in her face as if upset that she wasn't dead. 

Narrowing her eyes at the creature until it turned and flew away, Krista pulled her other arm free from the jumble of bodies before she stretched her arms out and grasped hold of something which felt terribly like a man's leg. Pulling herself out with her arms and pushing with her legs behind her, Krista managed to crawl free from the cesspit of human remains before she caught the tip of her boot against a man's chin and she was pitched forward. Rolling down the mound of bodies she came to a sudden halt on her side. Beneath her she could feel something wet and when she looked down she saw that it was grass. 

Planting her palms flat against the wet ground, she pushed herself up to her feet. Stumbling slightly as she tried to catch her footing, Krista glanced down at her hands momentarily before she saw something which made her pause and take a longer look. The palms of her hands, a usually pale colour, were now red and as she looked back down at the ground she could feel her sandals literally slipping in the grass. Krista quickly came to the realisation that the bodies that littered the fields had bathed the ground in their own blood, and there were a lot of bodies. 

Turning in a full circle Krista saw nothing but dead bodies as far as she looked with insects in their mortally wounded flesh and crows pecking at their open eyes, and amidst it all she was alone. She did not know where to start looking for her friends or if they were even alive and the muscles in her body and mind protested so much that she felt ready to crawl back into the hole she had just escaped from, close her eyes and wait for the crows to reach her. And yet she could not do it. 

Taking a hesitant step forward, one foot in front of the other, Krista began to stumble in what could be called a direction although she did not know where she was heading. She tripped and fell continuously over the arms, legs and various other body parts of those sprawled out before her. As she fell again, her hands reaching out to steady her, Krista flipped her hair out of her eyes and that was when she saw the sword lying before her. Still lying flat on her front with what felt like someone's elbow digging into her rib cage Krista remained where she was and simply stared at the sword which lay stranded in the grass, examining it from the the handle to the tip of the blade. She did this because she recognised it. Getting to her feet, Krista picked up the blade and as she felt it in her palm she was sure that it was Artorius's, which meant that he must be close.