Guardian of Rome (#2 in Gladiator Series)

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

 

Artorius spent his few spare minutes looking to the moon and thinking about Krista, knowing that it was the same moon that rose above her head as well.

Krista was always on his mind but tonight was different; he did not know why.

Maybe because he did not know where she was or what was happening to her but he prayed to all the gods that she and their child were safe.

Artorius knew how the chances of Krista ever being safe were minimal, the woman seemed to look for trouble, but he hoped she was safer than normal.

Right before they had parted ways, Artorius got to feel his baby move, kicking against the palm of his hand so fiercely that Artorius could still feel where it had tingled across his skin.

Gazing at the palm of his hand in wonder, it was not long before his name was being called and he was rushed back into the chaos.

If Pompeia had been able to inflict this disease on his people then she could easily win the war but as it was, the disease was born of their own actions.

Overcrowding, poor hygiene . . . Artorius kicked himself for not seeing it earlier but there was nothing he could do about the past.

No matter how hard he tried.

"Here you go," Artorius smiled at a young girl who called for water which he retrieved for her; her body was only small with pale blonde hair that was drenched with sweat and her skin was pale.

As the girl drunk from the cup he held, Artorius lifted his head and gazed around the tent where the people had been placed and suddenly felt overwhelmed by his task.

Coughing fits filled the air until he could hardly hear himself think; the air smelt of sweat and sickness and his skin crawled every time he touched their skin; it warm with sweat but cold at the same time.

Once the girl had slipped back into a restless slumber, Artorius left the tent and began to search for Frieda.

Artorius, Frieda, Leonidas and Cato had so far escaped the sickness; whether it was by their standing that they did not share in all the things of the masses or because they had simply gone through too much to fall to illness.

Either way, Artorius was glad that someone was still standing as they sorted through the hundreds of people and tried to separate the sick from the healthy.

Stood on an incline, Artorius looked around the camp when he spotted it. Rising smoke.

It was hard to see it against the night sky but the clouds of grey smoke were growing until they blew in front of the moon and stood out brilliantly.

Leaving camp immediately, Artorius rushed through the forest as his mind ran with possibilities.

Roman scouting group but he quickly dismissed that idea; even Romans were not stupid enough to locate their position.

Forest fire but soon that idea was thrown away as the smoke seemed to only stay in one place.

As Artorius whipped through the trees, the rising flames assaulting his sight, a final thought came into his mind and the thought made him falter.

Slowing down to walking pace, Artorius walked into a small clearing where Frieda and Leonidas stood, along with Cato, and gazed solemnly at the funeral pyre that had built.

Artorius swallowed in unease as he caught sight of the row of bodies that lay peacefully on the ground behind them.

Their eyes closed and looking to the sky, respectively lying by each other.