History: Nero's Rise to Power

Every four weeks I will post a snippet of history to fully explain why certain things happen in the plot of "Weakness". This week is about Nero's early life a rise to power. 

Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus was the last member of the Julio-Claudian line to rule Rome. His family was exiled, but Emperor Claudius allowed their return into the imperial family. Claudia married Agrippina (uncle and niece) to seal his repentance, thus allowing Lucius to become part of the imperial family again. His name was changed to Nero Claudius Drusus Germanicus once he was adopted by Emperor Claudius and named Britannicus's guardian. Nero was also betrothed to Claudius's daughter, Octavia, which helped Nero take prominence over Claudius's son, Britannicus. 

As Nero grew older, Agrippina, his mother, began to become restless. She wanted to see her son become the Emperor of Rome. She began to place people into positions of power. In 54AD, Claudius was poisoned by Agrippina; this led to her complete seizure of power with the help of Nero's tutor, Seneca, and Praetorian Prefect Afranius Burrus. 

Nero became emperor at the age of seventeen. With the help of Burrus, Seneca and his mother, Nero's first five years as emperor were peaceful and fair. He ended capital punishment, secret trials and gave the Senate more independence along with reducing direct taxation. But once his mother began to become irritating and Seneca and Burrus were egging on his violent, drunken rampages, Nero's dark side was soon to become revealed. 

Sources:
http://www.roman-empire.net/emperors/nero-index.html
http://www.roman-colosseum.info/roman-emperors/nero.htm

http://www.thenagain.info/webchron/mediterranean/nero.html

Claudia Acte

Six weeks earlier…

“Claudia,” a familiar voice said to me through my sleep, “It’s time to get up.” My eyes blinked open to see Demetri sitting at the edge of my bed. His face lit up once he saw my heavy eyelids open. He smiled at me, and I smiled back.

            “Agrippina will be expecting her breakfast soon,” he added.

            “Of course,” I answered as I sat up. I kissed him on the cheek and got ready for my duties. Demetri went out to check on the other slaves to be sure that they were up and working as I went off to the already busy kitchen that was filled with cooks preparing food for political officials and slaves alike. I walked over to where I did everyday to the station where Grumio was working. I put the queen’s tray down as he slid the first of three plates over to me.

            “Good morning,” he greeted me with a smile.

            “Good morning, Grumio,” I answered pleasantly, “busy morning?”

            “Isn’t it always?” He slid me another plate. “How is she?”

            “Agrippina?”

            “Yes.” I adjusted the plates on the tray and waited for the last one.

            “She’s been more nervous lately,” I answered quietly.

            “I would be too if Nero was my son,” he commented as he handed me the last plate. “Wait,” he continued. He turned his back and searched a shelf for something. He held a cup in his hand. Once he found the special tonic, he poured a little bit into the cup and then put water in it.

            “Give her this,” he said, “this will ease some of her nerves.”

            “Thank you,” I said. He winked at me as I turned away. Right before I left, Publius ran up to me gasping for breath and holding a letter.

            “Get this to Agrippina,” he said.

            “Who is it from?” I asked. He looked again at the letter as if he forgot and shrugged.

            “No seal,” he said.

            I smiled, “This should be interesting.” I told him to put it on my tray and I continued on my way to Agrippina’s chambers.

I walked in and set her tray in her dining area. She was lying on her favorite couch in front of the table.

            “Good morning,” I said bowing and stepping away from the table.

            “Good morning, my sweet Claudia,” she answered. She lifted the paper off the tray and looked at it questioningly.

            “Who is it from?” she asked.

            “Publius didn’t know,” I answered, “and there is no seal.” She picked up the letter while she was eating and flipped the letter over and back as she surveyed the outside. She set it down and finished her breakfast.

            Once she was finished she stood up and took the letter. As her eyes moved from left to right, her expression turned to panic. She shoved the letter into me.

            “Burn this,” she said, “now,” she continued with a very stern edge in her voice. I took the letter and walked over to the fire as I quickly gazed down and saw three words: HE IS ALIVE. I threw the paper into the fire and watched it be consumed by the flames. I turned back to the door to see the queen with her cloak on as she held mine out for me.

            “We need to go see Seneca.”

            “Yes ma’am,” I answered as I took the cloak and followed close behind her down the hallway. I was almost running behind her with how swiftly her feet were moving.

            We came up to the Senate House and went directly to Seneca’s room. I shut the door behind me once we were in the room.

            “I got a letter today,” she said bluntly. He looked up from his papers on his desk and stood up.

            “What do you mean?” he asked all of a sudden concerned.

            “They have found him.”

            “How?” he asked coming around the desk with all of his eyes on her.

            “He is a gladiator for Antony Facio Julius in Fetum Speī, a city three days north of Rome.”

            “How did he escape from Waleri?”

            “My cousin is dense,” she said throwing her arms up, “I can’t believe I gave him Milo in the first place!”

            “Did Waleri ever let him fight?” Seneca asked.

            “No.”

            “Well, you said he was a gladiator. He will soon die in the arena without good training.”

            “He has been a gladiator for over three months. If he was going to die, he would have died already!”

            “Agrippina, there’s no need to throw this out of proportion.” He lifted his hand to consol her.

            She slapped his hand away, “My overreaction is completely necessary! Don’t you realize that the people of Rome are going to realize something is going on when they realize the exact twin of Nero is a rising gladiator-”

            “In a distant province,” Seneca said interrupting her. Agrippina didn’t answer.

            “What else did the letter say?” Seneca asked.

            “It said that Antony was planning on coming to Rome.”

            “When?”

            “Whenever he could get in one of our spectacles.”

            “You must let him come.”

            “That is a dangerous thing.”

            “Having him strut around his province is dangerous enough in itself! What if he came here and died within him approaching the gates? What if he never made it to Rome?”

            “We will discuss this after I talk to my son,” she turned towards the door.

            “The gods will favor you in this,” he said.

            “His father will favor him! His father hates me for what I did!”

            “What choice did you have? Janus did not give you another option.”

            She shook her head, “I had a choice, and I chose to watch my son grow up.” Silence.

            “Come, Claudia. It’s time for us to go,” and we left Seneca in silence.

As we walked back to the palace, Agrippina would nervously look back frequently to see if anyone was following us. My guess was that someone was and her looking back was making us look guilty of whatever she was talking about with Seneca. This wasn’t the first time she had brought me with her to see Seneca about Nero’s brother, Milo. In recent months she had been more paranoid as her cousin would send her letter after letter telling her that he could not find Milo. Now, he had supposedly found this mystery man and was tracking him. Hopefully, this would pass quickly, but I had a feeling it was only beginning.

            I wondered if Nero had heard anything about this. What would he say? What would he do? Would he try and kill him mother? That was the worst crime to commit in Rome that even the Emperor of Rome could not get away with.

            When we came up to the palace, we found Vibius, one of Nero’s slaves, waiting for us.

            “My lady,” he said with a bow, “Nero requests the presence of your slave.”

            “This one?” Agrippina asked pointing at me.

            “He requested her specifically.”

            She sighed, “I do as the emperor commands even if he is my son.” She waved for me to go with Vibius and then she went in the other direction to her room. I looked back to make sure that Agrippina could not hear me.

            “Vibius,” I asked him, “what does Nero want with me?”

            “I have no idea,” he said, “but I don’t think he has good intentions.” Did Nero want to kill me? I didn’t know. He had just started to become insane with power. What could I have done to anger him? I felt the blood rush away from my face.

            When we walked up to the door Vibius looked at me and gave me a reassuring nod.

            “Don’t come in until he tells you to.” I nodded back at him. He knocked on the door and I heard Nero’s voice calling him in. I felt butterflies in my stomach and a chill went down my spine at the sound of his voice. Vibius stepped into the room keeping the door slightly open behind him.

            “Emperor,” Vibius said once he was inside, “I have brought the slave you have requested.”

            “Good,” Nero’s horrific voice said, “send her in.” I walked into his room and looked around at all of the lavish things that were on display. I bowed to him.

            “Your majesty,” I said and stood up.

            “Vibius,” Nero said, “leave us.” He bowed and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

            “I had heard that my mother had acquired a beautiful slave, but I wanted to see for myself. What is your name?”

            “My name is Claudia,” I said as I kept my head down so that I didn’t have to look at him. His words seemed to crawl into my ears like leeches that slowly wanted to watch me die at the slow sucking of my blood.

            “Why are you so tense?” he asked as he walked closer to me. He ran his fingertips softly up my arm and onto my chin as he lifted my face so that he could clearly see my face.

            “You are, indeed, beautiful,” he said as he rubbed his thumb on my cheek.

            “Thank you,” I said entranced by his eyes. They were sickly red, evil. They frightened me. I tried to look away, but I couldn’t.

            “You are more beautiful than the rumors described.” A smile drifted to his face. What rumors? I stared back into his dark eyes again. His hand trailed up my jaw line and into my hair as he loosened my bun and let my loose hair fall to my shoulders. I stared back into his dark eyes again. He fluffed my hair and stared back into my eyes. I broke our gaze and looked down at the ground.

            “Do I make you nervous?” he asked.

            I looked back up at him and went with my instinct answer, “Yes.”

            His smile grew, “Good.” His hands trailed down my back, and he began kissing me.

Antony

Ferocious burning pain soared through my veins as my body trembled subconsciously, unable to free itself from the tar that smothered my bare skin. My eyes fluttered opened as I lifted my head to see the emperor pacing in front of my grounded stake.

            “Tisk, tisk,” he said, “what a shame that you brought this fate to him.” I looked past Nero and saw my dark, curly headed gladiator being consumed by flames.

            “If only your success and wealth hadn’t let you turn blind with ambition and dreams,” he continued, “maybe this wouldn’t have happened to him.” My mind was confused. Why did the emperor want kill this gladiator?

            “And to think,” he scoffed as he walked closer to my pyre, “that anyone had the chance to steal my power away from me! You have only confirmed my suspicions of your naivety and carelessness.” He stepped back and waved the sword as if he were preparing to fight.

            “The true power of my father is what separates me from my brother. I am the true side him! The only side that matters! The only side the Roman people care about and ever will care about.” I looked down at him to see the red vengeance that filled his ruthless gaze.

            “They will call me the greatest emperor that ever lived! The only one that set Rome into its rightful place! But why should you care? You will end up like him in a few short moments.” He snapped his fingers, and Benedict walked up next to him with a flaming torch in his hands. A sinister smile spread across his face as he handed the torch to Nero.

            “Don’t worry, Master. Your fate will meet you soon enough,” he said, and Nero threw the torch at the foot of my pyre. I watched flames burst at my feet and begin to consume me.

I gasped as I sat up in my bed. I felt sweat drip off my face. I rose up and dabbed my face with a cool towel. I changed my tunic and started to walk down to the barracks. It was still dark outside, so I knew Benedict would still be asleep.

            What would Nero want with this slave? He was just a slave; nothing special. I found him nearly dead three months ago. Why would he be so different now? He had proved himself to becoming one of my most prized fighters, but he was still just a gladiator. He could die tomorrow at the games or this morning in his cell. I knew where he would be. He would be in the same cell as Marius. The two of them had recently started fighting together and became widely known as the “Gemini”.

            Once I made it down to the barracks, I unlocked his cell and pulled him out of his cot. He fell to the floor in shock.

            “Stand up,” I commanded him. He stood up and said nothing.

            “Who are you?” I said.

            “I am part of the Gemini,” he answered. I looked over at Marius who was aroused by the early morning excitement. I stared at Marius for a second. Marius quickly stood up as well.

            “Do you know why I am here?” I asked Marius.

            “Because of the vision you had last night,” he answered unwavering.

            “How do you know of this?”

            “I had the same vision.”

            I turned to the curly headed one, “And you? I suppose you had the same vision as well.”

            He held his head high, “I did. The last thing I remember was Nero saying, ‘The true power of my father separates me from my brother.’” I tried to read his face, but there was nothing to show. He stood there expressionless.

            “Are you suggesting that I am Nero’s brother?” I asked, appalled by his inquisition.

            “I am suggesting that I am his brother.” I looked at him in disbelief, until I saw his eyes. Nero and him had the same look in their eyes of pride and vengeance, only Nero’s were red and his were soft green. The different between their struggles for power were immense.

            “What is your name?” I asked him.

            He held up his arm to show the light burn mark on his wrist with the name MILO.

“This was the name that was given to me, but I never knew my mother or my father. There is no way for me to be sure.” I threw his arm back down.

“I have never seen anything like this! How am I supposed to believe that you didn’t just burn that on yourself?”

“You can believe anything you want, sir.”

“I did not come in here to hear what you thought of me!”

“Then why did you come in here?” I stopped for a second to collect my temper.

“I believe that dreams come to us for a reason, don’t you?” Milo didn’t answer. I turned to Marius, and he didn’t respond either. Nevertheless, I continued, “ From the vision we all had, I can see that there is something miraculous that is going to unfold, so much that the Emperor of Rome will feel threatened.”

“He should feel that way!” Marius said as his voice rose, “Someone finally has the opportunity to take his power away from him!”

“How can he?” I challenged Marius.

“His brother is standing before you! Don’t you think he is enough to make Nero feel threatened?”

“Nero doesn’t even know that I exist!” Milo interjected.

“How do you know?” I asked him, “Why is Nero’s brother a slave?” That quieted them down.

“Oh, no one knows the answer?” Still not a word. “Well,” I turned to Milo, “keep yourself alive tomorrow, and I will get you to Rome.”

I walked through the quiet hallways beneath my amphitheater. Benedict walked close behind me. All the swords were in place. All of the helmets were in place. All of the shields. Special weapons.

            “Everything is in place,” I commented.

            “Yes, sir,” Benedict said behind me.

            I put my hands behind my back and clasped my fingers together, “Will the Gemini be ready for today?”

            “Yes, sir,” Benedict answered.

            I laughed slightly, “Will their competitors be ready?”

            “As ready as they can be.” I smiled; their opponents were never ready. How can they be? I felt as though they had been blessed by the gods.

I stopped walking. Blessed by the gods. Blessed by a god…

“Are you alright, sir?” Benedict asked me.

I blinked back, “Yes,” I cleared my throat and made my voice seem more sure, “Yes. Let’s continue.”

That thought was absurd. If that was true why was Milo here? Why wouldn’t his godly parent, or parents, save him from his slavery? I made my final preparations for the day and went up to where I sat to watch the games.

 The thought that Milo was godly danced around in my head. It could be true.

I thought again about when I had first saw him. Three days with no food or water and a freak accident. This man was most likely from the gods; he would save us.

But only time would tell.

The sun was unrelenting, but the shade I sat under was refreshing as a soft wind blew onto my face. The wine I was drinking was sweet and the berries I was eating were fresh.

            Benedict was standing in front of the gate on the sandy floor below. I looked out at the seats as people hustled in to sit down.

            This was the way I made my living: drugging the people of my province with gladiator spectacles as they bet their livelihood on their favored champions.

            I waited for the sun to be at its highest point. I stood up as the sun grew close and walked to the edge of my balcony as I looked down at the five readying fighters.

            The crowd began to cheer viciously once they saw me. The five gladiators that stood below looked up at me; they knew they would be dead soon.

            I held up my hands as a welcome to the crowd. The crowd cheered louder once the horn was blown. Benedict pulled the chains to open the gate for two of the greatest gladiators I had ever seen.

            “Gemini! Gemini! Gemini!” The crowd chanted. They had truly made a name for themselves in such a short time.

            They stepped out of the gate side-by-side as they surveyed their competition that stood before them. The crowd grew quiet in anticipation.

            “Uh!” grunted one of the gladiators as he threw a spear at Milo. The spear flew, and there was a noise to be heard. As the spear grew nearer to where Milo was standing, he quickly side stepped, and the spear struck the ground right next to him. The crowd roared again as he picked it up and threw it at one of the men that was running towards him. The man fell back onto the sand. Milo jumped on him and stabbed him to make sure he would not resurrect himself.

            “Here!” Marius yelled at Milo. He quickly turned and saw his counterpart fighting one of the heavily armed gladiators. Milo quickly killed another advancing towards him on his right and then rejoined Marius. Milo slashed at heavily armed fighter and made the brute drop his weapon. The blonde ran his sword into his throat leaving him lifeless. Two left.

            I sat at the edge of my seat. That was the quickest I had ever seen veterans like the ones I put before them go down as quickly as they did. I was fascinated by the way they fought together. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. Fluid. Flawless. They were always one step ahead of their competitors. And what astounded me more was the fact that they knew each other’s fighting style so well.

            I watched them effortlessly kill the last two gladiators. The crowd began to chant again.

            “Gemini! Gemini! Gemini!”

            But they hardly regarded the crowd as they went back through the gate. I clapped for them as I stood up from my seat to get more to drink. I turned to leave as a woman came running into my balcony. She was gasping for breath.

            “Why are you here? This is off limits!” I said to her. She looked like a slave.

            “I’m sorry, sir,” she said collecting her words.

            “What do you need?” I asked her.

            “I am a slave in the Emperor’s household and he sent me here looking for that man that just fought.”

Milo

I was a celebrity in Rome, but for nothing glamorous. I stood there gasping for breath in the middle of the Coliseum as I stared down at the dying man that lay in front of me. I heard the ear-splitting volume of the crowd as they chanted my name…

            “Milo! Milo! Milo!”

           I tightened my grip on the hilt of my sword and took off my helmet to see the bloodthirsty crowd. The violent, disgusting people that enjoyed every moment I spent here in the arena as I fought for my life. Many of them thought this was easy and even more would have liked to become someone like me, but they have no idea how much I have suffered and the responsibility that has been hanging over my head. I looked around at all the dead men that lay around me as their bodies grew cold.

Fourteen friends.

Fourteen dead.

And I would never be able to save them.

There was no chance of me saving them. I was a slave to the people of Rome. There was no way I could have gotten out of this. I had no choice of what the future held for me. I dropped my helmet next to my feet as I became weak with the realization of what would happen next. I ran my hand through my sweaty hair and looked up at the emperor for his deadly signal.

No sign of weakness…no sign of weakness.

He wasn’t looking at me; he was staring down at the man who was reaching out his trembling hand in the emperor’s direction.

“Plee-e-ease, your ma-ajest-y,” he groaned pleading for his life to be spared. The look on the emperor’s face gave little hope for the dying man’s efforts. I looked down at my closest friend, Marius, as I thought about how the emperor had plotted for that to be me in today’s battle. When the emperor and I rejoined our gaze, I could feel the loathing seeping from his hateful eyes.

A sick smile grew across his face as he lifted his thumb up signaling for me to kill the man at my feet. He knew who Marius truly was. He was the only one besides Antony that truly knew Marius’s worth to me. I looked down into his eyes for the last time.

“I have fulfilled what has been prophesied,” Marius said. “You knew my death was inevitable. Always remember who you are and why you were born, Milo. Remember…” he choked out his last word as his eyes blinked quickly, and the life within him was gone. I thrusted my sword into him before the crowd realized he was dead.

I stared down at the man I had just killed wishing that he could have died a humane death, but none of us were graced with that opportunity. I jerked my sword out of his chest and lifted it into the air above my head. I showed my sword off to the crowd as blood dripped down my arm. Their savage cheers rang through the Coliseum like an earthquake.

My triumph at the expense of other’s death; the sword became heavier as I thought of all those who had died at its hand.

Keep up the theatrics, and Nero will let you live.

That was all Antony ever told me, but I knew inside of me that it was a lie. Needless to say, it was the only thought that was unnatural in my head as I fought. Everything about the fight came easy to me, but my words and actions had to be filtered.

Once every angle had been shown my sword, I turned towards the emperor who sat beside his wife, Octavia. The queen sat there softly clapping her hands in half-hearty enjoyment. She looked unhappy as she looked down at me, but our gaze was quick. She turned back to her husband.

My eyes retreated to the other side of the throne where Claudia stood with her head bowed and her eyes closed. I could tell that she was crying.

I looked back up at the emperor and saw him stand up with his blood red toga flowing to the ground. His curly hair held a wreath in place. He was putting on a show for his citizens, and I knew what he was hiding. He then held up his hands as he silenced the crowd.

“Congratulations, Milo,” his deep voice boomed through the Coliseum with an overwhelming tone of sarcasm and anger. “Yet again, you have done exceedingly well. You have risen up from the ashes of being a slave and have proved yourself to be a rare jewel of our great empire.”

The crowd roared again as the emperor smiled down at me and motioned to an opening corridor. Round three was over. I looked over at the opening gate and felt some relief, but I would rather be lying dead with my friends. Where I was supposed to be. How much more did he want to do to me? Hadn’t he had enough? I picked up my helmet as I walked towards the gate. I glanced up at Antony who had been waiting on me. He held up his hands and pointed to his lips as they broke out into a smile.

The crowd must love you! That is the only way to win Rome.

I turned back to the crowd as I gave them my last farewell giving them a rare but practiced smile and wave. The crowd cheered even louder. The crowd loved me. I looked up at the emperor and saw his loathing glare. The gate descended slowly to the ground as I turned and walked down the descending walkway.

“It seems that your sword has not failed you,” Antony observed. I swung it around my hand. The weight of the sword was perfectly balanced with my body.

“Your father has blessed you with this gift.” I smiled as I slipped my sword into my belt.

But I was not yet satisfied. My side of the prophesy was not complete yet.

*   *   *   *   *

Now, I’m smart, don’t get me wrong, but I can rarely keep my thoughts and instincts in control. That was how I got tied up in this mess in the first place.

            I hated the way I was treated while I was a slave. I wanted to rebel against it. I always had a feeling in my gut that this was not where I was supposed to be. But the punishment for a slave killing his master was death. I was not going to take that chance, so I did the next best thing.

            I ran.

            I went to the barn and took my master’s most prized possession: his horse. I quietly put reins on him and gently pulled him out of the stables. He trotted behind me, and we stayed quiet until we came to the edge of the forest. Then I jumped on his back and sped off. We made it as far as the Roman outpost. I slowed him down and thought of what I would do. I looked forward and saw no guards standing out by the gate; all of them were inside, and I could hear their laughter from where I sat at the edge of the forest.

            I trotted up to the gate and kept going past the outpost. A guard ran out to try and stop me.

            “Halt! Stop!” he yelled after me, but I didn’t stop. I rode faster. I was out of their sight before they could collect themselves enough to ride after me. I hauled the horse to a stop and listened to how far behind me they were. It was silent for a few minutes, so I relaxed and took a deep breath.

            Then I heard the shuffling of the hooves from their horses as they stormed through the forest. I heard the one guard that yelled at me before ordering the others. I kicked my heel into my stolen horse, and he jetted forward. We rode for at least four hours until we came to the edge of another city. I felt the horse start to slow. I saw in my peripheral a shed in the midst of tombs. I directed him to the front of the closed doors, and I dismounted. I listened again to the pounding hooves against the ground, the clanging of the guard’s chain mail against their armor, and the ordering of the same guard.

            I sent the horse off to continue on the same path, slipped into the shed, and waited for the guards to come and find me. I quickly looked around the shed, but couldn’t find anything to use in a fight. I looked down at my torn slave shirt and I realized that I wasn’t wearing any type of protective clothing. I slipped into the darkest corner of the shed behind the opened door as I thought through what I could do.

            I ran my hands through my hair as I thought and then I shrugged; it looked like I was going to have to improvise.

            I leaned against the wall and heard at least eight guards trot up on their horses.

            “He might’ve gone that way,” the same guard ordered, “Go check.” I heard two horses hurry off to the side where I sent my horse to go. The horses outside the shed in the road huffed and shifted their hooves uneasily as if they knew something was wrong.

            “You two come with me. You three stay here and wait for the others to come back. We need to get back to the post before the Centurion comes back.” I heard five “Yes, sir” responses and then the three idiots came through the opened door of the shed with their shields up and their backs to one another. Their swords were at the ready and waited for my return.

            I closed my eyes and took two deep breaths and let my instincts take over.

            I jumped from the shadows and punched one of the guards in the face. Another jumped at me, but I easily dodged his blow. As he passed my body, I elbowed him in the throat, and he dropped his sword. I picked it up, jabbed it into his side, and stood ready for the next guard.

            All in one fluid motion.

            The one guard I punched earlier yelled for the others to come into the shed, so I killed him next. The last guard stood with arrogance as he held his shield up and swung his sword around his wrist. While his sword was circumventing around his hand, I sidestepped and slashed at the hand that held his shield. He was confused and dropped his shield to the ground.

Before he could do anything else, I quickly thought back to when my master had taught his boys how to fight and I was happy to remember the three easy steps.

Right foot, left swing.

Left foot, right swing.

My final step forward was with my right foot as I thrusted my sword into his neck. I watched his eyes as surprise and agony filled them. I pulled my sword out as he fell to his knees and then to his face, dead.

I stood over him with a sense of victory, but I realized there were three more guards waiting for me outside the doors. I started to sneak along to walls of the shed and towards outside, but my strength left me. I fell to my knees and couldn’t get myself up.

A bright light began to glow outside. I fell on my stomach. Why couldn’t I get up? My eyelids became heavy. No! Don’t pass out! Stay awake. Stay alive!

“Hail!” yelled the guards outside. The horses reared and neighed in confusion.

“Hail, Holy Caesar!”

And my world went black.

A rough hand gripped my black, curly hair and jerked my head back.

            “He’s one of the new ones,” a voice said. I slowly blinked my eyes open to see the sun beating down on my face. The light burned my eyes, igniting my headache. The man who held my hair threw my head back down once I closed my eyes again.

            “He looks weak. How long ago did you find him?” the deep, raspy voice said.

            “Three days.” I had been asleep for three days? I opened my eyes and looked up to see the man with the deep, raspy voice staring down at me. I was confused as I looked around at men dressed in enough clothing to give them some dignity with chains on their wrists, ankles, and neck. I looked down at myself and saw that I was dressed the same way. Then I realized I was being sold again. My escape attempt was futile! It was childish of me to think that I could have escaped anyway.

            I looked up again at the man that was trying to figure out if he wanted to spend money on me or not. He wore a harsh expression, and his thick build made him look wealthy. His dark brown eyes gave him a juvenile appearance, which made his silvering hair and frowning lips seem out of place.

            “We have others,” the salesman continued.

            “Stand up,” the wealthy man commanded me. The chains were heavy and loud as I stood for him. The sun beat down on me unmercifully making my body overheat. I was dehydrated and black spots started to appear in my eyes. I felt as though I would pass out again. I gasped for breath once my knees locked, but I showed no weakness.

            No sign of weakness…no sign of weakness.

            “Where did you say you found him?” the wealthy man asked the salesman as he walked around me. He surveyed every inch of my body.

            “The Roman guards said they found him in a shed outside the city gates,” the salesman said to him. He stopped his circumvent and put his hands behind his back.

            “They just found him?” he asked the salesman not believing what he had just said.

            “That’s what I was told.” The wealthy man just walked in front of me and tilted his head making his final decision.

            “I’ll take him,” he said turning his back to us and walking over to his cage on wheels. The salesman immediately unlinked my chains that were attached to the stake. He pushed me forward towards the cart. When the door opened into the carriage, five pairs of eyes turned towards me. They all looked as though they had been tugging heavy bricks for a living, and they could break me in half if they so desired. I stepped into the cart and sat on the bench, and all of the men shifted away from me uncomfortably as I sat down.

            I broke away from their stares to look down at my raw wrists. They had been rubbed constantly against the shackles. They had cut deep into my skin and most of the blood had dried on the metal, but I was sure that it was all not mine. I felt my ankles, and they were in the same condition. I tried to take a deep breath, but my neck strained from the clamp of the shackle. I lifted my hands to try and give it some relief, but that only made my wrists hurt more. The rough road didn’t help either.

            As I sat there, I thought through every detail of what had happened. Every. Single. Detail. What I could have done better was already haunting. And what haunted me the most was the fact that I couldn’t get up to run. I felt as though quick sand had taken me over, and there was no hope for me being saved. There was no way I could have escaped this fate. The thought would haunt me for the rest of my life.

            I was doing great until that stupid light showed up and made me black out. What was the deal with the light anyways? The guards seemed completely infatuated with it. It would have made an easy escape for me. Was it the light that truly made me pass out? Why were the guards praising it?

            I smiled to myself; the guards had probably drunk too much that night and were making the light a bigger deal than it was.

            “Benedict!” I heard the cart driver yell out at the gate. A younger man ran out from one of the doors and unlocked the gate, allowing us to enter into the courtyard. The cart stopped, and the person who I guessed was Benedict came to the back of the cart and let us out.

            “Come on,” he said harshly as he directed us to a holding cell. As we followed him, I watched Benedict; the way he walked, the look in his eyes, how he held his keys, memorizing every inch of whom he was. Everything having the ability to be used against him.

            My instincts were soaring once we were locked in the cell. I looked around at every detail that was around me; the walls, the locks, the horses, everything. I figured out how to crack the cell open easily, but I couldn’t. Not yet.

            My eyes retreated to Benedict as he walked over to where his master was standing. Benedict looked like a nervous man compared to his master. His master stood there with undeniable overconfidence. I smiled to myself as I instantly wanted him to fail.

            “Antony,” Benedict whispered, “are you mad?” Antony looked over at me, but before he could see my eyes on them, I looked down at my shackles and pretended to be preoccupied with them.

            “What are you talking about?” Antony asked talking down to him.

            “I-I thought you said,” Benedict cleared his throat, “I thought you said you were only going to get five.”

            “The sixth one,” he said, “is different. I didn’t intent on getting five, but there’s something different about him. He looks like a fighter. I can see it in his eyes. Besides, you should not worry yourself about numbers. I am the one that pays for their food, their training, their livelihood rests in my hands. Do not worry about the decisions I make.” I lifted my head slightly to see Antony’s face. He looked compassionate yet authoritative as he talked to Benedict, but I knew I wouldn’t trust him for awhile; Antony would need to prove himself to me.

            “Yes, sir,” Benedict answered as he bowed his head.

            “Now,” Antony said putting his hands around his back as he showed off his rotund waistline, “take those six to the field to have their first practice.

            “Yes, sir,” Benedict said again as he turned to us and unlocked our gate.

            “Follow me,” he said to us. I looked back at Antony as he watched us enter the hallway. He looked as though he truly cared about us even if he was harsh with Benedict. I turned and focused on where we would be going. To the field? Practice? Training? For what?

            Benedict unlocked another gate to a huge courtyard. Dust and dirt swirled around a line of roughly fourteen men standing beside each other with a slave uniform on.

            “After I take off you shackles go to him and he will give you your new clothes,” Benedict said as he pointed to another slave standing behind a basket of clothes. One by one, the six of us got our new clothes and changed in front of the others.

            “Now, go stand in line with them,” Benedict said once we were finished. We did all the he commanded and by that time, Antony had made his way to the field as he made his way to middle of the line as he surveyed us from left to right. His expression hinted at his approval.

            “The glory of Rome rests with her army,” Antony began, “but the people of Rome couldn’t care less about the victories and the vast extensions of the lands. Caesar needs his army. The people need his gladiators. Gladiators!” he called to us. “You are the bravest men of this empire. And whether you want to fight or not, most of you will be dead by the end of the week.” He burst into laughter, “We’re all dead men anyways.” He smiled as he walked over to us, the six newcomers, and opened his arms to welcome us.

            “We hope you enjoy your short stay here on my estate,” he looked over at me and made eye contact, “some of you will be here longer than others.”

The six of us were immediately separated from the rest of them, and Antony put us through a series of tests that tried our endurance and fighting ability. None of us were stellar in these drills, but I would always outperform the others. I had never had any sort of training in my life; all of this seemed to click with me instantly.

            As the day went on, I could feel my face burning from the sun and sweat pouring down my back from the heat. We stood straight for Antony as he surveyed us again as he did earlier that day.

            “Marius!” he called out to one of the groups. One man came running towards Antony and stopped just before him. He was fit and built. His broad shoulders and tall physique immediately made him look from superior than the others.

            “Marius,” Antony said, “grab those wooden swords and bring them over here. We need to place these men into their proper training groups.

            “Yes, sir,” his deep voice answered, and he ran away to get the wooden swords.

            “Now you will be placed into training groups,” Antony said. “These are put in place so that you can improve on your skill quicker and more efficiently. There are three groups: blue, red, and violet. Blue is superior to violet, violet is superior to red, and red is the lowest. Know that in any group you can move to the next group and likewise you can be moved down. It doesn’t matter what group you are in while you are in the amphitheater; it only matters here. Your rations are not different, just the amount of respect you will get from the others. When Marius gets back he will have two wooden swords. Marius is one of the four that are in the blue group. He is one of our most advanced swordsmen.”

            Marius came back holding one sword in each hand.

            “You,” Antony said pointing at the man that stood at the end opposite of mine, “you are first.” He was weak from what the day brought, and he was placed into the red group. The next two men were violet. Then one man blue. Then a violet again.

            “Your turn,” Antony said to me. I walked up to where the sword was. I knelt down and picked up the sword out of the dirt. I stood up and looked at Marius. He looked down at me with arrogance, and I could see that he thought I was an easy target in his eyes. I took two deep breaths as I waited for Antony’s signal for us to start.

            Once he did, Marius was the first to make a move. His wooden sword came down on me with all of his strength as he tried to jam it down my throat. I blocked it easily and came onto the offensive. With one swing to the left and one to the right, I took a step forward and stopped my sword in front of his throat. He would have been dead if the was a true blade on the edge of my sword. I smiled at the panicked look in his eyes. I stood up and looked over at Antony.

            “Again,” he said. I stepped back as he collected himself. I watched his entire demeanor change. His pride had dwindled down to defeat.

            I ran my hand through my hair and took two deep breaths as he prepared himself. I started our second meeting the way he started our first. He blocked my offensive and pushed my sword off to slide down. He jabbed at my chest, but I moved quickly and diverted his offensive as I slashed at his arm. He twirled his sword and came underneath my blow as he knocked my sword out of my hands.

            His smile started to come back to his face. He came down on my shoulder and I somersaulted backwards and landed on my feet. Right underneath my foot laid my sword.

            Lucky.

            I stayed close to the ground until he got close enough for me to make my final move. I watched the five seconds I had dwindle down till he was one step away from me. At one upward glance, I saw he left his arm unprotected.

            I swung my sword up at his wrist, and he dropped his sword instantly grunting with pain. I hit the butt of my sword on his foot and twirled my sword to jab up at his stomach.

            I had beaten the most talented swordsman twice in one duel.

            “Blue,” Antony said. I stared at Marius as I stood up, and a blue marking was pressed into my chest.

            “That is all the training that I have for you today,” Antony said. “You may join the rest of your fellow gladiators at dinner. Marius will lead you there.” I looked around and realized that everyone was gone. Marius led us to where the men were eating.

I held a bowl of stew in my hands and realized that this was the first time I had eaten since I was had run away. The stew was thick and full of vegetables. This was better than anything they made on the plantation I was at previously. It quickly filled my famished stomach, and the cup of water quenched my headache.

The sun continued to fade into the horizon, and I could tell Benedict was getting restless. He directed us that it was time for all of us to go back to our cells. He walked up to me before we went down the hallway.

“Antony has instructed me to have you stay with Marius,” he told me.

“Yes, sir,” I answered. When Marius entered a cell, I followed behind him. I could tell that he wasn’t happy about his recent rooming situation, but he didn’t have a choice.

We didn’t say much to each other, and I soon fell asleep.

Once my eyes were closed, I felt heat overtake my body. The dream that flashed before my eyes made me wake in a cold sweat.

The dream wasn’t just a dream; it was a prophecy.

My death was closer than I had expected.