Gladiators of Rome:Short Stories

VII

VII

Three years later . . .

Flipping the dagger in the air, Frieda caught it by the blade before she flipped it once again and caught it by the hilt. She did this repeatedly, each time throwing it a little higher. Domitius had given it to her after she had won her third fight outside of the gladiator school.

Letting out a sigh of boredom, Frieda watched the blade flip three times in the air before she saw a hand reached out and catch it. Frowning, Frieda tilted her head far back and saw Zeno stood smiling down at her.

"What are you doing?" Zeno asked, tapping her blade against his arm.

Still looking up at him upside down, Frieda replied, "I'm bored."

"Amara will be back soon," Zeno told her confidently, holding out her dagger for her to take.

Lifting her head back to its right position, Frieda got to her feet and turned to face Zeno, "Why do I always have to wait for Amara before I can do anything? Let's go a few rounds, you and me," Frieda suggested as she took her dagger back.

"What about Eione?" Zeno nodded across the quad to where a blonde girl stood hitting one of the training posts with her fist, practicing her technique.

Frieda scrunched her nose, "She still will not talk to me since I fought her last time."

"You did bite her arm for no good reason," Zeno reminded her.

"I do not know what she is moaning about," Frieda shrugged, "the bite marks healed remarkably well I thought."

"I need to go," Zeno laughed as he patted her shoulder and walked off, shaking his head.

Frieda watched him leave, still bored, wondering what she could do to occupy her time when she spotted the pillar near to the entrance from the front gate. With nothing better to do, Frieda shrugged and headed over. Stood at the base of the three foot wide pillar, Frieda placed the dagger between her teeth and hooked her fingers into one of the many holes. The holes, which had been caused by time and wayward target practice chipping away at the surface, varied between a few centimetres to a few inches wide, allowing her enough purchase to be able to climb it.

Frieda had done this so much that it became almost second nature and within a few moments she had vaulted to the top and was sat, with her legs dangling over the side, looking out across Domitius's gladiator training school. Sitting there, Frieda looked to her right and saw the front gates, the image conjuring up an unwanted memory.

Domitius had been right all those years ago when he said that the only way out of there was through those front gates. She had learnt from Amara that Eoghan had been caught the next day in the woods and Domitius made no secret that the tunnel in the kitchen had been well and truly sealed so future escape attempts were discouraged.

Frieda was not sure how she had felt about Eoghan being captured. She was sorry that he was dead he had been her kinsman after all, and she had seen enough of her kinsmen killed to last a lifetime, but he had betrayed her. He had promised that they would stay together and he had left, to save his own hide. Did he think that she wanted to stay there? Did he even care about what would have happened when he decided to leave her to the romans? No.

"Frieda!"

Pulled out of her reverie, Frieda leaned over the side and saw a guard stood at the bottom holding up an apple. Fried had climbed the pillars so much that they barely batted an eyelid at it anymore; she had shown her loyalty to Domitius plenty times over since that night.