Et tú, Clarissa?

Chapter ten

60 BC (Rome, Italia)

I saw how they closed the wicket gate into the cell and threw in the lad from earlier. He looked at me in a mixture of fear and admiration. Me, who sat on that cold, hard, stone bench, waiting on the time for me to die. Clearly, he had to find better role models. The only reason he could see me was that weak orange light the burning torches threw over the dark corners of our dungeon. Me, however, had never had difficulties seeing in the dark which I was quite grateful for when I was trapped with hundreds of killers, wanting to slit my throat.

It was humid and cold and the lad sat down on the bench on the other side of the cell. He still looked at me.

"Why did you help me?" he asked. "And why did you not attack me at the arena?"

I threw my legs over the side of the bench and rested my elbows on my knees. As I leaned my head to the side, he slightly withdrew, but it seemed like he understood just through my gaze why.

"I am Hermes." he said with a smile and I saw that he wanted to know my name too, but I did not see the point of it.

We are here to kill each other, not fraternise.

"Okay, don't speak. I don't care." he continued as the smile disappeared and I could not quite understand why he even bothered. "I owe you one, Celt. So, eventually you have to speak. But I will not force the words out of you. Unfortunately for you, some may take your silence a bit more serious than me."

I leaned back against the bars and looked at him over my chin. Reading him. Was he someone I could put my faith in? The question about how he would react if he figured out that I was in fact a woman clearly over toned the thoughts floating around in my head. I was a woman and if they knew that it has been a woman who has beat down and killed the most feared of men, I did not know what they may do. Women in this culture should not fight, so clearly, they had to punish me. If they knew, but as of yet, they did not. And I intended to keep it that way.

"We may die tomorrow." Hermes said, to no one in particular I presume, but mostly to himself until he turned to me. "You are one of them that I believe the superior wants dead. You are too good to represent any other than the people of Rome. They are scared of you so you have to be careful and win the crowd over."

I threw a glance over to him, but it did not stay long before I locked it on the stone pillar outside our cell again. Win the crowd. The crowd had to be out of their minds if you were able to win them over by killing people.

I surly live in an absurd time, I thought as I slide further down on the bench.

Suddenly an odd feeling passed me as fast as I was not quite sure I felt it. A strange, filling feeling that was gone just as fast. I looked at Hermes who had closed his eyes in an attempt to get some sleep.

What was that?

The crowd applauded before the gate opened and I dragged myself out on the arena.

"This man," the superior shouted and the crowd calmed down "has been shipped all the way from Londinium where he was the champion of the savages to show you what the provinces can do, but does he have a chance against our roman warriors?"

Everybody in the arena showed rather clearly that they did not think so. I looked around in the enormous arena and spotted the emperor and his daughter Julia, who we both met on our first day here. Suddenly the gates opened and gladiators came out from the dark dungeons. It was five of them, one with a net and a trident, a second with a spear and a round shield, a third with a curled sword and the rest with a sword and a big shield each. I looked down on my small dull blade and up at the others.