Guardian of Rome (#2 in Gladiator Series)

Chapter 23

Chapter 23

As Frieda returned from guard duty, her fingers curled around a bow, she topped upon the hill and gazed out over the camp.

The once bustling and boisterous encampment was now silent as nearly a quarter of their followers had succumbed to the disease.

Mainly women and children were the victims but a few good gladiators had joined them in Charon’s boat.

But despite all of the killing, the sun still managed to rise over the horizon and mark a new day for the world.

Frieda was struck in awe for a moment as she realised that, long after she and the people around her had died, that the sun would still keep rising and falling in its ancient rhythm.

Whether aided by the Gods or not, as some philosophers were now claiming, the world will keep turning.

It put their actions on this earth into perspective for a moment.

Frieda may die in the inevitable battle that was to come or she may die tomorrow, if the Roman’s decided to attack now in their weakened state, either way Frieda was going to die and she felt guilty.

She had seen a lot in her short life but throughout her time in slavery she had promised herself that at the first opportunity that arose, Frieda would leave Rome and look for her sister.

The only remaining blood family she had left in this world.

Frieda did not regret her decision to stand by Krista. She owed Krista her life and their work was valuable. No person, serf or high-born, deserved to be in chains.

Frieda only knew that she could not remain here forever. She needed to find her sister. Frieda had promised her that she would find her.

And Frieda kept her promises.

As the sun continued to rise into the sky, Frieda turned away from the beautiful sight and headed down the mound towards her first stop of the new day.

Gathering a bowl of breakfast with a few chunks of bread on her way, Frieda ducked around a crowd of starving people and hurried down through the tents.

Not bothering to knock, Frieda stepped through the tent flaps and called for Artorius to awaken.

Laying her bow down to the side, she handed Artorius a slice of bread before she took her seat on a stool and began to chow down on her first meal.

Artorius raised the bread in question, “Gratitude,” He rolled his eyes before throwing the bread at the bottom of his bunk and swinging his legs over the side.

“You need to rest,” Frieda informed Artorius as she swallowed another spoonful of food, trying not to think too much about what was in the bowl, only knowing that it was warm and filled her stomach.

“I am perfectly well,” Artorius waved her off and rose to his feet, taking a few seconds to balance himself before he reached for his clothes.

“You are not strong enough,” Frieda shook her head as she laid the bowl on the table; “You need to rest.”

“I will not sit in bed whilst Krista is out there,” Artorius strapped on his boots.

“You are no use to Krista, or the baby, if you collapse,” Frieda argued, placing a hand on her hip, “Take another day to rest. I’ve already sent out a messenger to collect Krista and the others.”