Descendants of Rome (#3 in Gladiator Series)

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

A chill ran through Krista’s body.

It was a summer’s evening, the air was warm with plenty of blankets thrown over her body, and hence there was no reason for her body to be shivering. But it was.

Rousing her from sleep, Krista’s eyes fell upon Artorius sleeping form beside her; his body curved in such a manner as to shield her.

Thinking that he failed to achieve the task as she rose to her feet, Krista perceived her surroundings of forest floor and trees, a half burnt campfire lying a few feet from her.

So it hadn’t been a dream. She had hoped it was only a nightmare. That she would awake and find Cassia and Zeph tottering about their hut as a new day dawned.

But once again Krista found herself in the same woods she had occupied a lifetime before.

Walking softly, as to not wake the others, Krista knelt by her satchel and removed the waterskin from the strap.

Raising the container to her lips, Krista tilted her head back and felt the refreshing water slide down her throat.

It was only as she fastened the top back on that Krista discovered her son was missing.

His blankets, where he was meant to be sleeping, were empty.

Krista tried not to over react as Artorius had instructed her the night previous when they left Rome. Lazarus could be reliving himself or he could have gone for a night time walk. Krista remembered that he did that when he was younger, walking in his sleep in the early hours of the night.

Krista and Artorius used to spend alternating nights watching his room, checking he was constantly safe. As he grew older the wanderings lessened before ceasing completely.

But, being this close to Rome and counting that the dreams had stopped years before, Krista was becoming less and less composed and her anxiety was returning.

There was one final thing that settled Krista’s that something was wrong; Lazarus’s sword was gone.

Slipping her own from the ground where it rested beside her blankets, Krista went after him in a similar way she used to when he was younger.

But the worst thing that could have happened when he was a child was that he may get a little lost in the woods. Now, being this close to Rome, he risked death.

* * *

Sat atop a boulder, Lazarus contemplated his fate with the stars.

But the heavens barely glistened with the silent foretellers as darkness impended upon him, sending his mood spiralling further downward.

Staring intently at the only shining orb, which hung ominously in the sky, Lazarus felt anger resurface.

He would not be contemplating his fate now if his parents, and family, had left him alone in that arena.

Lazarus would be training with the other gladiators, dreaming about the next day’s fight and the glory it would bring him.

Sighing inwardly, Lazarus turned the sword in his palm absentmindedly.

He hadn’t been able to sleep, too restless to settle. His legs wanted to walk back to Rome, to re-volunteer for the arena.