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.