Free Swords of Rome by Christopher Lee Buckner

iron tips of the trident.
    The crowd released more of their building rage of excitement as Calfax swung down with his sword, cleaving into the dark-skinned man’s wrist. The sword, now duller than it had, could not cut all the way through the bone, but on the second strike, the hand separated from the man’s body, hanging loosely by a narrow strip of skin.
    The dark-skinned man screamed in agony as he lost his grip on his weapon. The audience went wild with anticipation as Calfax stood poised before the quivering gladiator as a stream of hot piss ran down his leg.
    Gaius was close enough to hear the dark-skinned man begging for his life, or so he assumed. He spoke a dialect that he’d never heard before, but regardless Calfax held no mercy for the man who cradled his severed hand in his other.
    Calfax swung; the tip of his sword sliced across the dark-skinned man’s throat. Blood squirted out, splashing over Calfax’s body like rain as he stood where he was, looking down at the defeated man, who choked on his own blood. It was not a quick death as the dark-skinned man’s agony lasted several more painful moments before Calfax raised his sword, and plunged it into the man’s gullet, ending him.
    Gaius did not blink, not once as he watched Calfax claim his victory. He did not enjoy the show, not like he thought he would, but he wasn’t mortified by it either, unlike Antony.
    As the cheering crowd stood to their feet, Calfax removed his helmet, allowing the adoring audience, and Gaius to see his bald, scarred and one-eyed face clearly for the first time.
    Flowers drifted down across the arena floor as the mob showered Calfax with their admiration, respect and fear of a man who was impossibly powerful and deadly. He did not seem. However, to care for the affection that was being bestowed on him. He looked down at the dead that lied on the floor; the thick pools of blood and guts, mixed with flesh and bone covered the sandy floor of the arena, showered by the beauty of the flowers turned Calfax’s stomach. And then Calfax turned his gaze toward Gaius.
    For a moment, their eyes locked, and for the first-time, Gaius truly felt fear as he looked into the single good eye of the man, he had watched kill so easily, and without mercy.
    As Calfax flared at him, he saw nothing but hatred in his soulless eye, that if he could, the Spartan would kill every Roman, man, woman and child. No matter, how much applause he might receive, even now, as his name was hailed, Calfax was a slave.
    He finally pulled his gaze away from Gaius, turning once the far gate was opened, allow ing him to leave the arena as several men rushed out with hooks in hand to drag the bodies back inside. A moment later the fat editor of the games returned to his podium and began his closing statements to the adoring crowds.
    By now, Gaius lost interest in hearing anything more. He stepped away from the barred gate and turned his attention towards Antony, who sat with his back up against a wooden support beam, clutching his stomach with both hands.
    “Is it over?” Antony asked as he looked up at Gaius.
    “Yes, it is over,” Gaius replied as he reached down and lifted his friend to his feet. “We had better get you cleaned before your father sees you like this, or it will be both of our backsides that feel his wrath.”
    Antony nodded as he and Gaius left, having seen what they wanted. Now, both just wanted to forget what they’d witnessed and salvage their day before they had to head back to the country, leaving the wonders of Rome behind.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER FIVE
     
     
    The summer sun was high as Gaiu s, along with Antony and Julia walked along the crumbling stone wall that led up to his modest home. The same slave who had watched over the trio during their time in Rome was with them now, escorting Gaius home as Varro had ordered.
    Gaius was returning about the