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Authors: Christopher Lee Buckner
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that stood out even more with the oils that had been rubbed over his body and muscles before he stepped into the arena. In his hand, he carried two swords, no shield. One sword was curved, a falcate, while the other blade was a short dagger, about half the length of the other.
Once the crowd began to die down, each of the gladiators looked up towards the fat editor of the games. He was seated with several other men and women of notice, each dressed in expensive clothing and adorn with jewels and gold. Gaius recognized Varro among them too. He figured they were the financiers of the games, so were awarded the best seats.
Gaius turned his attention back towards the gladiators as each of them spoke the oath, “ We who are about to die, salute you.”
It took Gaius a few moments to realize that Calfax was going to be squaring off against the five gladiators on his own. And as the five men lowered their weapons, staring with focused attention on the lone Spartan, the crowd once again erupted into a frenzy of excitement.
Gaius felt his mouth dry as he watched, never taking his eyes off of Calfax, who stood, seemingly unconcerned. He kept his focus forward, on one of the dark-skinned gladiators who carried the trident, which he twirled, readied to attack any second.
Gaius looked down at Antony, who seemed to be climbing the bars as high as they would take him. He was yelling with the crowd as his eyes were fixated on the six men who were nearly close enough that the two boys could smell their sweat. And then, as Gaius turned, the first strike came, suddenly and without warning.
Gaius felt his heart skip a beat as he watched one of the white-skinned gladiators charge from behind Calfax, who shifted his stance s lightly as the first opponent lunged at him. That man’s thrust missed, coming a few inches from piercing the Spartan’s back.
Calfax struck down with his right blade, which cut deep into the man’s upper arm.
The man, who wore no helmet, screamed. However, his cries of pain were silenced a fraction of a second later as Calfax stepped quickly to the side and struck with his dagger, tearing through the nape of the man’s neck, severing his spinal cord before the tip of the blade tore through the front of his throat.
Blood squirted from the wound like a fountain of red water, which sent the crowd roaring as Calfax drew first blood, with amazing speed and ferocity.
Gaius glanced toward Antony once he realized his friend’s cheers had suddenly stopped. What he saw now was a pale-faced young boy bent over near the corner of the gate, vomiting up everything the two had eaten before the fight.
As he turned back around to the arena floor, Calfax ran his dagger through the stomach of the second dark-skinned man. His entrails spilled out from his gut, which the gladiator tried in vain to keep inside his body. However, Calfax ran behind him before he thrust his blade in between the man’s shoulders, silencing his screaming.
A sword came at Calfax’s head as his back was turned momentarily. Sensing that the strike was coming, he ducked just in time as the blade sliced across the red crest of his helmet.
Calfax sliced his sword across the man’s knee before he dropped hard onto the ground, clutching his wound as tendons were easily cleaved.
As Calfax rose back to his feet, he drove his bloodied dagger into the man’s face, sticking him through the left eye, where he kept the blade.
Gaius continued to watch as the remaining two gladiators struggled to overpower the veteran, who, despite his age was as nimble as a cat. A moment later, another man, the largest in size and height went down from another series of savage blows from Calfax, who drove the edge of his sword across the man’s throat.
The last gladiator, the dark-skinned man who carried the trident lunged forward, hoping to catch the Spartan off guard. As before, Calfax’s uncanny sense of the battlefield did not fail him as he weaved away from the heavy
Once the crowd began to die down, each of the gladiators looked up towards the fat editor of the games. He was seated with several other men and women of notice, each dressed in expensive clothing and adorn with jewels and gold. Gaius recognized Varro among them too. He figured they were the financiers of the games, so were awarded the best seats.
Gaius turned his attention back towards the gladiators as each of them spoke the oath, “ We who are about to die, salute you.”
It took Gaius a few moments to realize that Calfax was going to be squaring off against the five gladiators on his own. And as the five men lowered their weapons, staring with focused attention on the lone Spartan, the crowd once again erupted into a frenzy of excitement.
Gaius felt his mouth dry as he watched, never taking his eyes off of Calfax, who stood, seemingly unconcerned. He kept his focus forward, on one of the dark-skinned gladiators who carried the trident, which he twirled, readied to attack any second.
Gaius looked down at Antony, who seemed to be climbing the bars as high as they would take him. He was yelling with the crowd as his eyes were fixated on the six men who were nearly close enough that the two boys could smell their sweat. And then, as Gaius turned, the first strike came, suddenly and without warning.
Gaius felt his heart skip a beat as he watched one of the white-skinned gladiators charge from behind Calfax, who shifted his stance s lightly as the first opponent lunged at him. That man’s thrust missed, coming a few inches from piercing the Spartan’s back.
Calfax struck down with his right blade, which cut deep into the man’s upper arm.
The man, who wore no helmet, screamed. However, his cries of pain were silenced a fraction of a second later as Calfax stepped quickly to the side and struck with his dagger, tearing through the nape of the man’s neck, severing his spinal cord before the tip of the blade tore through the front of his throat.
Blood squirted from the wound like a fountain of red water, which sent the crowd roaring as Calfax drew first blood, with amazing speed and ferocity.
Gaius glanced toward Antony once he realized his friend’s cheers had suddenly stopped. What he saw now was a pale-faced young boy bent over near the corner of the gate, vomiting up everything the two had eaten before the fight.
As he turned back around to the arena floor, Calfax ran his dagger through the stomach of the second dark-skinned man. His entrails spilled out from his gut, which the gladiator tried in vain to keep inside his body. However, Calfax ran behind him before he thrust his blade in between the man’s shoulders, silencing his screaming.
A sword came at Calfax’s head as his back was turned momentarily. Sensing that the strike was coming, he ducked just in time as the blade sliced across the red crest of his helmet.
Calfax sliced his sword across the man’s knee before he dropped hard onto the ground, clutching his wound as tendons were easily cleaved.
As Calfax rose back to his feet, he drove his bloodied dagger into the man’s face, sticking him through the left eye, where he kept the blade.
Gaius continued to watch as the remaining two gladiators struggled to overpower the veteran, who, despite his age was as nimble as a cat. A moment later, another man, the largest in size and height went down from another series of savage blows from Calfax, who drove the edge of his sword across the man’s throat.
The last gladiator, the dark-skinned man who carried the trident lunged forward, hoping to catch the Spartan off guard. As before, Calfax’s uncanny sense of the battlefield did not fail him as he weaved away from the heavy
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