CHAPTER 59

The speed of the attacks caused Mansuetus to operate on pure instinct and adrenaline. He barely noticed the pain in his right foot or his inability to pivot and cut as quickly as normal. Right now everything was defensive. He just had to survive this initial melee.

He hunkered behind his heavy convex shield, putting his left foot forward and relying on Cobius to cover his back. He fended off an equites who came flying by and landed a blow that deflected off Mansuetus’s shield and rocked him back. He quickly regained his balance and found himself and Cobius surrounded by four gladiators from a rival school. Mansuetus lashed out, taking on two men at once, undercutting one’s shield and disemboweling the man with a single stroke.

He heard Cobius cry out behind him and quickly glanced around to see his friend bleeding where a blade had sliced his shoulder. Enraged, Mansuetus lunged at the remaining gladiator in front of him, raining down one blow after another on the man’s shield until he lowered it just enough that Mansuetus could land a fatal blow to his neck.

He turned to help Cobius, and they finished off the other two gladiators in a matter of seconds. But there was no time to relax. A retiarius’s net entangled Cobius and dragged him to the ground. Before Mansuetus could react, the gladiator drove his three-pronged spear into Cobius’s midsection, and Mansuetus’s young friend let out a death moan.

Something snapped inside Mansuetus. He went on the attack again, this time recklessly, killing three more gladiators in less than a minute. His sword was red with blood as he flew forward in a rage, descending on anyone close to him. Bodies of men and horses now littered the arena floor, but Mansuetus didn’t pause even for a breath. He turned and attacked, driving his sword through another man’s side, then ripping it free so he could whirl and attack again. His nostrils filled with the smell of blood and sweat and other men’s fear. His chest heaved in great gasping breaths.

Rage fueled him. Rage at Caligula for this needless slaughter of valiant men. Rage at losing his friend Cobius. He had never fought this hard before, never been this rabid for more blood. He struck another man down, a thunderous blow that nearly took off the man’s arm, then moved to the next gladiator. Someone else could finish the last one off.

With fallen gladiators all around him, he reared back, looked up to the heavens, and let out an insane roar. The rain pelted down, and there were still skirmishes throughout the arena. But who dared take on Mansuetus?

An impulse made him turn just in time to fend off another blow, his fury now kindled against the man who had sneaked up behind him. As he beat that man backward, he felt a searing pain in the back of his left shoulder. It staggered him but still he fought on. When the man in front retreated, Mansuetus glanced over his shoulder and saw the spear that had lodged there.

He dropped his sword, reached back, grimaced, and yanked the spear out with his right hand. The piercing pain turned the world black and made him momentarily dizzy. Disoriented, he managed to block another blow with his shield and then quickly crouched down and picked up his sword.

He fought on, but now he could barely carry his shield, and he was losing blood. There were only a few other gladiators left, and the roar of the crowd was deafening. Mansuetus tried to shake off the dizziness as the last two gladiators came at him. They were both from the same school and looked determined to finish off Mansuetus before they turned on each other.

He let his shield drop, his left arm useless as the gladiators circled to opposite sides of him. He was exhausted now, his one arm hanging at his side, his right foot throbbing. He had no way to defend his exposed body. He would lunge at the man on the right, try to make short work of him, and then pivot before he took a sword in the back.

Mansuetus made his move, but the gladiator deftly sidestepped, and Mansuetus stumbled. The gladiator swung his sword, but Mansuetus rolled just in time. He scrambled to his feet and wondered what had happened to the man who had been in position behind him. By all rights, Mansuetus knew, he should be dead by now.

When he looked, he saw the other gladiator tangled in a net, a three-pronged spear draining his lifeblood.

Cobius stood there, his midsection covered in blood, listing to the side, grinning. “You’re on your own for the last one,” he said.

Even without the use of his left arm, Mansuetus could not be stopped. He attacked the remaining gladiator, relentlessly moving forward until the man got too close and the swing of Mansuetus’s sword sliced open his right arm. The man dropped his sword. Mansuetus grabbed the man’s shield, pulled him close, and thrust his sword through the gladiator’s chest.

When the man fell at his feet, Mansuetus stood there, staggered, surrounded by the carnage, wondering what had come over him. The crowd was cheering and stomping on the wooden bleachers. Cobius slumped over, his hand on his side, trying to stanch the bleeding.

Mansuetus was the last man standing.

The crowd began throwing sestertii into the ring. The bodies of forty-four gladiators and four horses littered the wet sand like a battlefield.

Caligula stood at the front of the imperial box, yelling, waving his arms, trying to make himself heard.

Mansuetus glared at him from the other side of the arena. He would never walk over and salute the emperor. If he managed to get close enough, with his dying breath he would kill the man.

When the boisterous cheering ebbed, the trumpets blew and the crowd quieted. The emperor could finally be heard through the driving rain.

“The fight is not over!” he yelled. “There are two gladiators left, not one! Whip them into action!”

Mansuetus couldn’t believe his ears! Several of the men moaning in the sand were still squirming and hadn’t yet bled out. His friend Cobius would be lucky to survive the night. Yet the emperor wanted more blood?

Mansuetus took a few staggering steps toward the middle of the arena. He stared at Caligula for a moment, raised his sword over his head, and planted it firmly in the wet sand. He took a step away from the weapon.

“You have seen enough death!” Mansuetus yelled. “Enough brave men have died so that cowards can be entertained!”