Whenever there are games held at an arena or an amphitheatre, the massive machine that is Rome grinds to a halt. Shops close, and almost all the citizens of Rome bunk off work as they all proceed to the arena for a day and night of entertainment funded by the Emperor, or by some rich citizen seeking to curry favour with the masses.
Almost all the citizens of Rome.
One such group of citizens were in an inn located next to the city’s wall. It was a large building, but had the regular citizens of the surrounding area been there, they would have shook their heads in disbelief at the patrons who apparently preferred a night of drunken revelry over a day of games.
And that was exactly what the Arcani wanted the people of Rome to think.
In one of the basement rooms, an Arcani officer’s brow creased as he read the latest report from his spies in Egypt. The report, combined with his the shipping records from Ostia… it sounded crazy, too crazy.
He had to admit though- it was pretty unbelievable. Anyone without the Arcani intelligence network would have never seen any connection between these two… what? Crimes? As far as he could tell, nothing unlawful had been committed. In fact, it was only his gut instinct that was telling him there was something wrong here. And if he told anyone of his suspicions- why, they’d have him locked up!
He only hoped his latest lead would pan out-
“Sir! Sir!” an adjutant said breathlessly as he ran into the room.
“What is it?”
“That woman we were watching! Shiko! She’s in the gladiatorial games!”
“Jupiter!” the officer swore, placing a hand on his head. Although their intelligence indicated that Shiko was more than capable enough of taking care of herself, there was always the chance-
“it gets worse, sir! That girl from the gladiator school, that Britannian-”
“Let me guess- she’s in the games too?”
“Worse, sir- she’s up against Shiko. What do we do, Centurion?” the adjutant said, addressing his superior by his title.
Centurion Vespasian leaned back in his chair, his fists clenched over his eyes. It was at times like this that he should have listened to his mother and stayed a Consul. (1)
(scene change)
“We who are about to die, salute you!”
Brutally honest though the oath was, Kiminax was thankful for it, as it sobered her up to the upcoming battle, and from what she could see, she was in a lot of trouble. Everything about Shiko’s equipment seemed to be streamlined for combat.
Her torches, for example, weren’t just there for show; when the two combatants closed for a few moments in the opening minutes of the fight, the heavy blows whoosh of the wind as they cut though the air told her two things: that the spikes at the bottom of their handles weren’t the only dangerous things about them, and that Shiko was a whole lot stronger than her lithe body made her out to be.
And that lithe body was another problem. The seemingly random pattern of the clothing she wore, all black with patches of green (or vice versa), combined with the bright green afterimages left by her torches and the generally dull light of the arena served to make her a much harder opponent to hit. Kiminax was reminded of the way her own countrymen would dab woad on their bodies to hide their outlines when attacking at dawn- (2)
Kiminax suddenly had an idea, and through the slits of her helmet, her eyes narrowed. If her idea worked, then both she and Shiko would be able to get out alive… but first things first. She had to give the Romans a good show, and with not a sound escaping her lips, she charged Shiko.
Seeing her opponent charge, Shiko broke out into a grin. This fight had barely started, and she could already see that this was no ordinary opponent. As her leather-clad foe came closer and close, Shiko dropped into a defensive crouch with her torches held crosswise across her chest, ready to spring into action if she needed to-
“What?” she said in disbelief as the other woman suddenly took a running leap over her, flipping in the air to land behind Shiko- but she followed up with a clumsy downswing that Shiko found all too easy to block with her torches.
“And you were doing so well,” Shiko said sarcastically. She threw her opponent back, then brought her torches down-
-onto thin air. A cloud of dust to her right told her where the other woman had jumped to, and was now charging from-
-with another flurry of amateurishly done sword swings. Geez, Shiko thought in disgust, as she easily blocked the attacks, it’s almost as if she doesn’t want to hurt me.
She had to admit, amateurish they may have been, they did look good. Well, two can play at that game.
Shiko jumped away
Kiminax’s brows were creased in concentration. She had to make sure that this fight looked good, but at the same time she had to make sure that Shiko (who for all her theatricality, fought better than some of the professionals earlier in the day), didn’t end up, well, killing her.
Easier said than done.
Nevertheless, Kiminax kept up her ineffective assault, making sure that Shiko always had ample room to deflect or dodge her blows. All she had to do was keep up the fight for a few moments longer-
“Didn’t see that, didja?” Shiko yelled triumphantly as she planted her foot squarely in her foe’s stomach, knocking the other woman skidding several feet away onto the ground.
The crowd went wild. Gasping for breath, Kiminax scrambled around frantically for her sword, when she saw it a few feet away. She reached for it, but it was too late. Shiko’s foot came down upon her hand, hard.
At least, that was how Shiko planned it.
What happened instead was that her adversary simply moved her hand a few inches to the side when her foot came down, and then, with a speed that impressed even Shiko, grabbed the Dacian’s foot and pulled her down. Shiko only managed to get up in the nick of time as the other woman somersaulted over to her own sword and picked it up.
“Oh, you’re good,” Shiko snarled, as the two combatants circled warily. “Got any more surprises for me?”
The other woman didn’t reply at first. Instead she simply moved her hand under her helmet and Shiko took this opportunity to charge, raising her heavy torches-
“Just one,” Kiminax answered, dropping her helmet as a stunned Shiko halted in mid-stride. Now wasting a moment, Kiminax swung her sword and knocked Shiko’s torches out of her hands, and in that same seamless flowing motion high-kicked Shiko to the ground.
Roaring in approval, various members of the crowd, yelling “Mitte! Spare her!” gave a thumbs-down sign, or waved their handkerchiefs, while an equal number pressed their thumbs to their chests and shouted “Lugula! Cut the throat!”. Shiko’s eyes, however, were not looking at them. Her eyes were on the Emperor. (3)
The roars of the crowd only grew louder as Nero rose from his seat. He looked down at the two women in the arena with a nonchalant smile, before extending a hand, and the crowd held its breath, waiting for the Emperor’s decision.
“My dear Dracus,” he said, waving the crowd into silence. “A good fight, wasn’t it? Pity about your slave, though- to be beaten by a mere Britannian gladiatrix. Not much of a threat to anyone- least of al… you, is she?”
“Of- of course not, Great Caesar,” Dracus mumbled.
“But of course, one must always make sure,” Nero said, before pressing his thumb to his chest in a slow, stabbing motion. (4)
Down below, Kiminax’s heart sank. She didn’t know much of gladiator culture, but by the suddenly malicious tone of the crowd’s roars, she knew- she knew she hadn’t been good enough, and her distressed eyes turned to Shiko…
“Well, what are you waiting for- Saturnalia?” Shiko snarled over the roar of the crowd. (5)
But Kiminax could not bring herself to do it, even knowing that they would both probably end up killed. She couldn’t for many reasons, but greatest among them was that if she did this, she would have lost the one of the deepest connections she had to her home, where the lives of people had far more worth than sport- where the lives of friends had far more worth than sport-
Got any more surprises for me? Shiko had said…
“Get up,” Kiminax said, holding her sword down at Shiko, pointed at the Dacian’s throat. “I said, get up!” she shouted, the steel in her voice audible even above the thunderous roar of the crowd, which only grew louder in approval.
Shiko knew this was coming, but it was still an effort to make herself stand up. She stood stiffly, her back straight and her eyes open. Even then, though, she felt a twinge of pride. From somewhere deep inside her, she felt proud to know that of all the people she had fought through her life, the fact that it was Kiminax who defeated her made it- made it all right, she supposed.
In that slight, light-headed haze that seems to come over people when they were about to die, Shiko noted that Kiminax, if anything, had the ‘arrogant gladiatrix’ look down pat, and it made her look real good in the torchlight…
Kiminax’s eyes narrowed, and her slightly shaky grip on her blade stabilized. She leaped forward, sung her sword-
-and missed Shiko completely. But Kiminax wasn’t finished yet. As the attention of the crowd and Shiko focused on the missed blade, Kiminax took her chance. With her free hand, she reached behind Shiko, pulled her close-
-and kissed her as passionately as she could.
It seemed as if the whole world had stopped, and in a way, it had. A stunned silence filled the arena, and even the battle-hardened Shiko was too shocked to do anything but give in.
Kiminax herself was having second thoughts. She had never kissed anyone before; her father had steadfastly refused to entertain any questions she had on the subject, and all her knowledge of the act had come she managed to overhear from her village’s gossips.
She hoped she was doing it right; it certainly felt that way…
Suddenly, Kiminax’s mind pulled the rest of her into the here and now. Remembering where she was, Kiminax broke off the kiss, and like the crowd, stood in nervous silence- for a few moments. If there was anything her short gladiatorial training had taught her, it was that her nerves must be overcome, that each moment must be seized- or die. And so, steeling herself once more, Kiminax turned to face the Roman crowd-
“Are you not entertained?” she yelled. “Are you not entertained?” (6)
The next thing she knew, she was assaulted- not by any weapon, but by a wall of sound so loud it almost had a physical presence that pushed her over, a massive, singular shout from the throats of thousands, all crying out one word: “Amazon! Amazon! Amazon!”
High above the two gladiators, Nero turned back to the sweating Dracus. “Well, this puts me at an impasse, Dracus,” he said, in a low whisper that nevertheless seemed to penetrate the voices of the crowd.
“What do you mean, Great Caesar?” Dracus asked nervously. “I mean, you should let her live, right? It is what the people want.”
“Ah yes, that’s the trouble, isn’t it? What the people want? It’s so hard to predict what they want, that it is better that in the end that rulers decide it for themselves. A week from now, perhaps, we shall have another round of games, and the people will have forgotten this,” Nero said, bringing his thumb back to his chest-
A messenger, panting and out of breath, rushed up beside Nero and whispered in the Emperor’s ear. Dracus could not hear what was being said, but by the way the Emperor seemed to relax, it must have been good news, and Dracus hoped that he would allow-
“However,” Nero said after the messenger had finished, as if his conversation had not been interrupted. “Sometimes, we must indulge the people as we would indulge a child we love, dom’t you agree?” he said, and then, jabbed his thumb firmly downward.
An exhausted Dracus could only nod.
Historical Notes:
(1) Told you you wouldn’t believe who this guy is- like the Arcani, I’m taking great liberties with Nero’s true successor (OMG spoilzorz) (1a). Renowned as an honourable man (according to the historian Suetonius) he was elected Consul of Rome in 51, but retired soon after, only coming out of retirement in 63 to become Governor of Rome’s African provinces. I couldn’t find any sources which detail his life in those 12 years, so…
(1a) I say ‘true successor’, as Nero was succeeded by Emperors Galba, Otho and Vitellus, in that order, before Vespasian took the throne.
(2) Woad (rhymes with road) is a certain dye obtained from a plant of the same name in Britain, and, as is noted by Kiminax, was used by British warriors to paint themselves blue during early morning ambushes, and sometimes in regular battle (although its use then was more mystical than practical). I’d go into the process of making the woad body paint, but this is a kid-friendly site, and the paint involves bodily fluids you young ‘uns ain’t s’posed to know about.
(3) Contrary to popular belief, the thumbs-down sign didn’t mean that the gladiator would be sentenced to death- in fact, it meant the exact opposite, as it signified the victorious gladiator putting down his/her weapon. Waving a handkerchief also meant that you wanted the fallen warrior to live. However, pressing a thumb to the chest signified a sword thrust…
(4) The Emperor or the Games’ sponsor(s) had final say on whether a gladiator would live or die, as determined by rank.
(5) Saturnalia was a Roman solstice festival from the 17th to 23rd December, and is usually credited as one of the major inspirations for the Christian celebration of Christmas.
(6) Like I’d write a story in Ancient Rome involving gladiators without making at least some reference to the movie. This line and other materiel derived from it is copyright David Franzoni, Dreamworks and Universal Studios.