Free The Woman who Loved an Octopus and other Saint's Tales by Imogen Rhia Herrad

entertainment , can you believe it? The people in the audience, they were enjoying it.
    I hated it. I sat there and hated it, and I hated all of them. I kept thinking, this could have been us. Gwladus and Einir and Gwyn and Mother and Father and Grandfather and me, being killed like that. I heard the people in the arena scream and howl for mercy. And then I saw the looks on people’s faces around us in the audience. They were really getting off on it.
    I threw up on a whole row of them. I wish I could have puked on the whole amphitheatre!
    Don’t laugh, Arddun, it’s not funny. Really it isn’t.
    No, I’m not crying.
    Piss off.
    I’m going for a walk.

    * * *

    Oh.
    Arddun.
    Yeah, I’m fine.
    Look. I’m not in much of a mood for talking now. See you tomorrow, OK?
    No - it’s nothing personal. Honest. It’s nothing to do with you.
    Of course I’m still your friend!
    Well – it’s just... you don’t really know me. I mean – you know me from when I was a kid. I was nine when we left here, and I’m fifteen now and... well. I’ve changed , do you know what I mean?
    Exactly. We’ve both changed. And it’s really difficult here, you know? I keep forgetting words, I’m probably thinking in Latin. It’s like I’m half Roman now, and half not.
    I missed home so much when we got to Rome. I missed you . I didn’t have anyone to talk to. I kept thinking about home and missing it and really, really wanted to come back. Only there was no way the Romans would let us go while the fighting here was still going on. We had to wait and wait. And I was really worried as well.
    About you! I didn’t know if you’d been killed in the fighting or taken captive or what !
    And now I’m back and it’s really weird. It’s all so different .
    I don’t know... Like, it’s not just that I’ve changed and stuff, that I’m different from how I used to be. I mean, that too. But I’m different , do you know what I mean? I don’t fit in. Not in Rome. I’m still a sort of barbarian there. I thought I’d be OK once I got back here again. But now Prydain doesn’t really feel like home either.
    Oh, Arddun, don’t look like that.
    I just don’t know what I’m going to do now. And Nesmut’s bored out of her skull because she can’t talk to anyone...
    My friend. Nesmut – the one who came with us from Rome.
    Yeah, the dark one with the big eyes.
    She’s not stuck up – she just doesn’t understand what people are saying. She only speaks Latin and Greek and Coptic, and that’s not going to do her much good here, is it?
    What?
    Marianism. How do you know about that?
    Did I? Oh. Yeah, I think I did. When I was telling you about that godawful circus we went to...
    No, I’m not upset.
    Yes, OK, I am. It’s just... Oh, all right, I’m going to tell you.
    I knew one of the people there.
    One of the people in the arena. One of the gladiators.
    Abra.
    I couldn’t believe it was her there. I’d known she was training to be a gladiator, but the way she’d talked about it, I thought it was all for show. Like dancing, she said it was. Beautiful movements. Skill. A trained body. She said she’d always wanted to be a gladiator.
    I sat there and saw her fight and die. And then I was sick and we had to leave.
    Oh, Arddun, it was terrible. I sat there and saw her die, and I couldn’t do anything.
    I still have nightmares about it. I’m there in the arena holding a knife, and she’s on the ground with all her wounds and I try to run to her and kill her to stop the pain but I can’t move. I can’t move. And I wake up and think, Why do I want to kill her? She was my friend, she was only a few years older than me. She was my favourite slave in the house and I shouldn’t want to kill her in my dream, I should want to save her; but I always want to kill