XXXII
It took more than three hours to clear the darkened amphitheater after the final bout. Many of the spectators tried unsuccessfully to bribe the guards into letting them spend the night in order to hold their choice seats for the next day’s games. Most simply left dejected; others needed to be forcibly removed. A cleaning crew of slaves picked up the remnants of food and garbage. Some were assigned to clean bodily fluids and human waste from the seats and floor with buckets of reeking water.
Near the deserted podium in the flickering light of a single torch, Cassius Petra tapped his foot impatiently. Sitting in the dark cavea with Facilix and Tiberius Lupus, the procurator of the Roman ludus, was grating on his nerves, especially with so much work to do.
“The games resume tomorrow morning, and we have to sit here waiting for these two assholes,” he fumed.
“Careful how you speak of our editor, Petra,” warned Tiberius. “Roman politicians have long memories when it comes to those who defy them.”
“Well, what do they want of us at this time of night? Don’t they realize what needs to be done before morning?”
“I don’t know,” Tiberius said as he watched the last few slaves wiping down the seats. “I just got an urgent message for us to gather here and wait.”
Knowing the real story behind Lucius and his impersonation of Quintus, Petra had little patience with the scheming deviant. Now having to sit and wait for the swine just increased his loathing of the man. Finally, he heard footsteps echo in the tunnel behind the podium. Lucius and Julia stepped through the archway and onto the podium. Both showed calm, pleasant smiles.
“Thank you for joining us, gentlemen,” said Lucius. “So sorry to keep you waiting.”
“This better not take long,” Petra said brusquely.
Tiberius gave him a hard look and spoke in a more conciliatory tone to the financial backers of their games. “What Petra means is that we have a great deal of work to do and many wounds to mend.”
“Well then, I’ll come right to the point,” Lucius said. “I want to make a change in tomorrow’s games.”
Petra glanced at Facilix and rolled his eyes. Late changes in the middle of games was an eccentric annoyance tolerated only from an Emperor. Private editors were rarely afforded such whimsy.
“Day One was so successful, we feel we need a more dramatic finale for Day Two. I want to put the best gladiator and the two best venatores—one from each school—in the arena together to fight against twenty lions.”
The lanistae looked at each other in shock. “Primus palus gladiators do not fight animals,” Petra said, barely holding his temper. “Venatores fight animals.”
“I’m sorry. You misunderstand me,” Lucius replied. “The gladiator will not be fighting at all.” He looked at each of them and grinned a shrewd smile. “The gladiator will be tied to a post. He’ll be the ultimate bait. This is a test of the hunters’ skills, not the gladiator’s.”
Petra was dumbfounded. Facilix and Tiberius seemed more puzzled than before. “Why use a gladiator?” Tiberius asked. “Why not put a slave in with the hunters?”
Lucius broadened his smile. “Because it’s good showmanship. Who would the crowd rather see in peril? A simple slave? A virgin? A Christian? If the hunters lose, what’s the cost? Just another slave. No, to really get the crowd behind the hunters, the venatores must be forced to protect someone the crowd really cares about, one of their heroes. Say, the big winner of today’s games ... Taurus.”
Petra immediately saw the plan for what it was. He had heard enough. He stood up to leave, but Facilix and Tiberius remained seated. After a second, Facilix said, “You do realize he’s my best fighter?” Petra bristled at the Pompeiian’s reference to his fighter when discussing Quintus. “This man will be very expensive bait.”
Julia picked up the discussion. “We’re well aware that this will cost us more. We’ll pay you one hundred thousand sesterces each for the services of the two hunters. If either hunter dies, we’ll pay another fifty thousand to the appropriate lanista. If Taurus dies, we’ll pay another two hundred and fifty thousand to the Pompeii school.”
Facilix and Tiberius looked shocked at the unexpected windfall. Petra could clearly see where this was headed. “Absolutely not,” he said hastily, then turned to leave.
“Hold on, Petra. I think this is worth considering.”
Petra knew that amount of money would pique the interest of his new business partner. He stopped and looked Facilix in the eyes. “You’re not actually considering this bullshit?”
Facilix did not reply. The distant look in his squinting eyes told Petra he was busy running calculations.
Tiberius suddenly stood up. “Well you can count me out, although I thank you for the very generous offer. My upside in this deal is only one hundred fifty thousand sesterces. I’m afraid that’s not enough for me to put my best venator on the line. And, going up against twenty lions, I’m afraid the odds just wouldn’t be in my favor.” He looked at Facilix, who still seemed to be running calculations in his head. “But I don’t know ... If I had four hundred thousand hanging in the balance like you do, Facilix, I’d certainly be considering this deal.” Tiberius brushed past Petra with a smirk and left the podium.
Facilix looked at Julia and counteroffered. “I’ll provide one hunter for one hundred fifty thousand sesterces, plus fifty thousand extra if the hunter is killed. Of course, by himself, he goes up against ten lions, not twenty. And we’re paid three hundred thousand extra if Taurus dies.”
Before Julia could respond, Petra dove at Facilix and grabbed the front of his tunic. “Are you insane? You’re risking two of our best men on a stupid publicity stunt!”
“Yes, a publicity stunt that could wind up paying us a half-million sesterces! Come off it, Petra. You know damn well that we can buy twenty more good fighters for that kind of money. How much did you pay for Taurus, anyway? I’ll bet my soul it wasn’t close to the three hundred thousand we’ll get if he dies.”
Petra released his hold, and the Pompeiian dropped back into his seat. Petra’s mind raced. He was not about to say that he had only paid one hundred sesterces to a pair of thieves for Quintus. But he had to talk Facilix out of this decision. Should he tell him the true reason Lucius came up with this bizarre idea? Should he explain that the person sitting in front of him was not really Quintus Honorius Romanus? How would Lucius react if he did? Lucius and Julia held the purse strings. If there was a scandal because of what he said now, the Pompeii ludus would surely not be paid for these games. It would mean a black mark against the new combined school. Then Facilix would probably come after him for the lost revenue. Petra could lose his ownership stake in the ludus. No, he could not risk all this for the sake of a single gladiator, even if that gladiator was Quintus. Petra glared at Lucius and Julia, but spoke to Facilix.
“You’d better start planning how you’ll spend the money, Facilix. I have a strong feeling that Taurus will not be leaving the arena alive tomorrow.”
The pleasant smile on Lucius’s face disappeared. He swallowed hard, then looked at Facilix.
“Your terms are acceptable to me, if they suit my aunt,” he said, obviously looking to close the deal before they changed their minds.
“I accept as well,” Julia said quickly. “We’ll modify your contract when we return to our apartment this evening.”
Petra had no choice but to put his faith in Lindani. Only the African’s hunting skills could keep his best fighter alive.
Like the other Day One fighters, Quintus was annoyed that he had been roused in the predawn hours just to march in the opening pompa for Day Two of the Challenge. Now, back in the staging area under the amphitheater, he was looking forward to the walk back across the Campus Martius for some relaxation time at the ludus before the journey back to Pompeii.
“We put in our time yesterday and emerged victorious,” he said to Lindani. “You’d think they’d let us sleep a bit this morning.”
Lindani nodded and walked away. He sat alone on a bench in a side cell. After a moment, Quintus moved across the crowded, dark room and joined him. A gloomy atmosphere seemed to hang over his friend. Quintus wondered if it was just the musty air in the cell, still ripe with the stink of sweat and blood from the previous day’s action.
“What’s wrong with you? You haven’t said a word all morning.”
“It is nothing. I am worn out from yesterday’s hunt.” Lindani forced a smile, but it was easy for Quintus to see it was not one of the African’s usual flashes of cheerfulness.
“You’re coming back with me this afternoon to cheer Amazonia from the tunnel, right?”
“Of course,” Lindani answered, then turned away.
Before Quintus could press him further, the arena manager’s voice boomed.
“All Day One fighters and hunters, line up for the walk back to the ludus. Now!”
Quintus stood and joined the line that filed out. As he reached the manager, the gruff overseer dropped the long leather handle of his whip.
“Not you. You’re staying put,” the manager said.
“What? Why?” Quintus asked.
“Your lanista will be down to talk to you. Take a seat with your friend in the cell.”
Quintus had assumed Lindani was in line behind him but instead found him still seated alone on the wooden bench. He had never left it to line up. Quintus returned to the cell and hovered over his friend. “What’s going on, Lindani? You know something.”
There was no response from the venator.
Amazonia passed by the bars of the holding cell as she was changing from her parade costume to her fighting armor. She stopped when she saw the two occupants. “What are you two still doing here? You don’t trust the Day Two fighters to win this thing?”
“We’d love to leave you to it, but they won’t let us go,” Quintus said. He studied Lindani’s impassive face as the hunter sat quietly. “It seems our friend here suspects something, but he’s not talking. He’s been like this all morning. It’s like his animal senses are telling him something.”
He left Amazonia to her preparations and joined Lindani on the bench. After a short time he heard Petra’s voice asking for them. As soon as the lanista appeared in the doorway, he could tell something was terribly wrong.
“I have news, and you’re not going to like it.” Over the next few minutes, Petra laid out their impossible task for the afternoon.
“Tied to a post! Ten lions! What kind of bullshit is this?” Quintus was furious.
“This is suicide, Dominus,” Amazonia protested, standing in the doorway.
Quintus paced the cell. “Don’t you see, this is just Lucius trying to get rid of me again to protect his little fantasy world? And now he’s dragging Lindani into it.”
As he said his friend’s name, he stopped pacing and looked across the cell. Lindani slowly raised his eyes to Quintus.
“You knew about this,” Quintus whispered. “You knew about this!” he yelled as he sprang toward the bench. Petra and Amazonia grabbed his arms before his sizeable fists reached Lindani. “You didn’t tell me, you bastard! How did you know about this?”
“I told him!” Petra yelled as he struggled to hold Quintus back. “I felt he needed the time to prepare, so I told him last night. He’s your only hope for survival.”
The look in Lindani’s eyes melted Quintus’s rage. The African’s voice came softly. “What difference if you had known last night or right now? At least you had a few more hours of peace. There is nothing you can do to challenge the Fates.”
Knowing this benevolent, unassuming man would probably not see another sunrise because of Lucius’s twisted plans, Quintus once again turned his wrath toward Petra. “You’re going to let that bastard get away with this? This is nothing but a plot to kill me! And in doing it, he’s probably going to kill Lindani, too!”
“Don’t you think I realize that?” Petra fired back as he pushed Quintus onto the bench. He looked around and lowered his voice. “How can I explain such a ludicrous story to my new partner? And if I did, do you really think we’d be paid for these games after causing the editor so much trouble? What happens to our ludus then? Facilix is already counting all the extra money the scheming bastard is throwing at us to make this happen. I had no choice.”
“Yes, but Dominus—” Amazonia began, but Petra cut her off.
“Look, like it or not, you are all my property to do with as I see fit. Now you’ll do as I say or you’ll feel the whip.”
Even as the harsh statement left the lanista’s mouth, Quintus knew he did not mean a word of what he said. Petra looked down at the cold, stone floor.
“Look, Quintus, you’ll have the best venator in the Empire at your side,” he said in a low voice. “I don’t agree that it’s suicidal. I think you two can do this.”
“Well, there’s not much I’ll be doing tied to a fucking post.”
Petra did not make eye contact with him. “I’m sorry. May Hercules be with you.” He walked out the cell door. There was silence in the room.
“So have you used the extra time to figure this out?” Quintus finally asked Lindani. Quintus could not tell if the young African was in a state of shock or already mentally rehearsing every shot he would fire at the lions. He hoped it was the latter, for both their sakes.
“When I was a child in my village in Ethiopia, the Axum chief recognized that I was the chosen one. I had the gift. I knew the animals. He told me that someday this power would lead me to good. When I was arrested during the Roman hunt, I thought he was wrong. The power only led to evil and suffering. But now I know the Axum chief was right. This is the day that the power will lead me to good. I have closed my eyes and watched the cats many times in my mind since last night. I have devised a plan of attack, and a second to bolster the first.” Lindani looked up at Quintus. “I swear to you, my friend, by all the gods in both our heavens, that I will not let you die today.” There was a passion in his eyes that Quintus had never seen before. It should have brought him comfort, but deep inside Quintus knew that Lucius would not allow him to escape the arena alive.
“I accept your pledge, my friend, and I thank you with all my spirit. But let me say this: Should the beasts disagree with your pledge, do not feel guilt or shame or remorse. I know that you will have done everything in your power to try to save me. You may not realize it, but you are only human.”
Lindani gave his friend a broad smile. “That is not what my elders told me. We shall see.”