"One day in the life of a gladiatrix" By robblu (https://pastebin.com/u/robblu) URL: https://pastebin.com/4ZuRjYck Created on: Wednesday 21st of September 2016 10:30:58 PM CDT Retrieved on: Saturday 31 of October 2020 03:25:28 AM UTC One day in the life of a gladiatrix « on: September 19, 2016, 08:29:28 pm » Quote One day in the life of a gladiatrix I had never seen so many gladiators being packed together in the narrow corridors: men and women, middle-aged and young, veterans of the arena and novices like me. They came from different lands, as apparent from the colors of their skin, the different languages and the varied levels of fear in their eyes. We rubbed shoulders against each other, breathed in the body odor that mixed in the stuffy air through sweating which ranged from pleasing to repugnant. There was one thing we shared in common though. This could very well be the last day of our lives, for most of our lives to be precise. Someone told me that they had gathered more than five hundred of us here, all for the celebration fight in honor of the emperor for his new victory. And that number only included those on our side. Another two hundred were waiting in the corridors on the opposite side: experienced men, mostly Romans, who volunteered to fight and kill us, who were prisoners of wars or slaves. The numerical advantage gave us little comfort. They were experienced men who had fought and killed all their lives, many of them former legionnaires who were too bored with civilian life after they were discharged from their legions. For us, apart from a very limited number of seasoned fighters, like Carmina standing beside me, the pack was composed mainly of men and women, even girls like me, with little combat training or experience. The probability was we would be massacred whole-scale which was exactly the intention of putting up this show: Romans triumphant over the enemies of the Empire. For their “disadvantage” in numbers, they more than matched up in weaponry. Fully armored and given the best weapons from the arsenal, they would face us scantily clad, if at all, with rusty gladius, the short sword and worn-out little round shields, the parma. I was one of the luckier ones. Dressed in a white strophium that provided some decency by covering my breasts and a matching subligar that shielded my womanhood, I was also given a solid parma and a not-too-rusty gladius. I guessed the arms master rather liked me and wished to do his best to increase my chance of survival by giving me something proper, though it was a very small chance at that. On my left leg was an ocrea, made of boiled-leather. A slightly over-sized visored helmet with fish design on top and an opening at the back so that my honey-blond hair, tied into a pony-tail could come out swaying. This kind of helmet was supposed to downgrade me from a human to a sea-monster, to be killed by brave Roman sailors no doubt. Carmina was also in strophium and subligar. She was given a lance, the hasta, which she could thrust or use it as a throwing weapon. There was no shield for her though which would make her an easy target. She did not say a word at her being treated unfairly. She knew the reason why. The arms master had tried a pass with her and she had shunned him flat. Besides, fairness was not common currency in the arena. Not for our lot anyway. It would not be our turn yet. The commoners had filled the uncovered seats and the senators and their lavishly dressed women had begun to arrive. The emperor would not make his appearance until the first part of the program was over: the executions of criminals and anyone deemed unfit to live, by the Romans. They were in an even sorrier lot than us, being unarmed and with nil chance of survival. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise for the corridors to be so packed. Carmina and I were forced to give space to others and so we had to wait near the vomitoria, the door of entrance into the arena and from there, we could take a peep at what was going outside. It was not a pretty sight of course. The screams from both the victims and the crowd were disheartening. So were the roar of the beasts: lions and tigers mainly. I saw with my own eyes a pretty girl being torn apart by two tigers, fighting for their share of meals. There was so much blood on the sand. The drainage system would become a sea of red when the day was done. It was no mystery where the corpses would go. Apart from those ending up in the bellies of the beasts, they would be thrown into the Tiber, a watery passage that would send the carcasses into their watery graves. “Stay close to me, Angelina.” Carmina whispered into my ear. She had been very nice to me, like a big sister. Both of us knew that in all likelihood, we would not live for long. Yet, she was determined to give me whatever love and care she could spare and made me feel I was still human. “Thank you, Carmina.” I was grateful. It would be even more terrible to die without knowing that you could still be loved and deserved to be loved. I was glad too that we would enter the arena together, through the same vormitoria and not from opposite sides. It would mean that we would not have to face the possibility of fighting against each other, though, I would readily lay down my life for her if that was the case. She was so beautiful. I was not bad looking myself but she looked like a goddess with her stunning blond hair and great height. If anyone deserved surviving this fight, it should be her. And she was good too. “Are we going to fight en mass?” I asked. Carmina nodded. “Yes, until one side is wiped out, most probably our side.” “All five hundred of us? Someone must have paid a heavy price to stage this.“ “Of course. We are expendable but we all carry a price-tag.” Carmina smiled. “Not a big deal to them. They told me that last year, the emperor staged a sea-battle in the big amphitheater and more than nineteen thousand men took part in it.” “How many came out alive at the end?” She turned her head away and did not reply. Trumpets were heard. From the small space between the iron bars of the vormitoria, Carmina and I could see the emperor and his wife, preceded by musicians and guards moving towards their seats. The people stood and cheered and the emperor, a man in his forties, slightly bald, waved back. This probably was the only place and time that the Roman public could be on almost equal footing with the emperor. He might even obey their wishes to spare the life of a particular gladiator, or to have him, or her, killed on the spot. “Get yourself ready!” The one in charge roared. Carmina helped me to buckle up my helmet and gave a pat on my shoulder. I almost broke into tears. “Thank you, Carmina. I would not forget you even if I…” “Just stay close to me!” She did not give me the chance to finish my sentence. The heavy iron gate was raised and we rushed out in droves. After staying in the dark and crowded corridors for so long, it was blinding to be flooded with sunshine. The crowds roared, not to cheer us, but to condemn. After all, we were supposed to be the villains, fit only to be slaughtered. We formed into ranks. Carmina and I found ourselves among other gladiatrices in the second row from the front. I was amazed to find that all of these women were young or relatively young, and good looking. “What a waste?” I said to myself. “They would be beautiful corpses very soon.” Then, I remembered that I would probably be one of them. It was no time for self-pity though. The gate at the other end was open and the men whom we were supposed to fight entered the arena. This time, the crowd cheered. It was to be a scaled down battle. And there was only one rule: kill, or be killed. Hundreds of archers ringed the arena to ensure everything would proceed as they planned. Our opponents began to advance in tight formation. The men and women on our side looked at each other, knowing not what to do next. “Fools!” Carmina cursed. “We would be slaughtered like pigs if we stay this way.” Then, she lifted her gladius and gave a shout. “Charge!” The pack rushed forward as if put on fire. The distance between us and the other side diminished so fast that there was no time to think. I just followed Carmina who by now was leading our column. Then, there was a clash of weapons and shields. The men on the other side was equipped with scutums, large oblong shield that provided better protection though this somehow restricted their mobility. To compensate this, they closed ranks and thrust their weapons, swords and spears, between the shields. Men and women began to fall, on our side. “Aaarrrrrgh!” A very pretty girl from Gaul got one of her breast stabbed by a sword and she crumpled next to me. Her strophiem had been sliced and her breasts were exposed. There was so much blood. I could see the despair in her eyes as she fell, holding out her hand during her fall as if pleading for help. None was forthcoming of course and she disappeared under trampling feet from those behind her. We could not break the wall of shields. Men and women were dying like flies. The crowd must be cheering now but we did not have time to pay attention to that. The noise of battle, or rather massacre, was deafening. I blocked two sword thrusts with my parma and brought my gladius into action by hitting hard on the shield. But it was useless. Their scutums were too strong. We were doomed. “Give me your shoulders!” Carmina shouted. A man on our side responded and bent down slightly. Carmina stepped back a short distance and made a sprint and stepped on the offered shoulder. I saw her being catapulted over the shields, her gladius in full swing as she landed behind the first line. She was making big risks doing that as she could easily be impaled by the weapons of those behind the first rank. But she succeeded and this took the other side by surprise. More men and women from our side followed her example. Some made it, others came to a ghastly death with spears or swords running through them as they tried to land. We lost a great number of fighters but the shield wall was broken! The fight turned into a melee in which everyone was for himself, or herself. I found myself facing a Roman with a sica, the heavy curved sword that was the terror of many. I wanted to turn and run but there was no space for me to do that. I was boxed in by the others. The man charged and I raised my parma to block his sica. I knew immediately that I had been so foolish as the impact of the sica hitting my puny shield would break my arm with ease. The man knew that too and there was an evil grin on his face. I thought of death and prayed the pain would be short. Then the grin on the face of the man changed into that of surprise. He stopped abruptly in his race for a kill and looked uncomprehendingly at the spear sticking out from his right side. In a distance, I saw Carmina standing, her hands empty. I had been saved, at least for the time-being. I nodded to her and she nodded back. But just then, I saw something and it filled me with terror. A Roman on the other side was aiming his javelin at the disarmed Carmina. “Watch out!” I shouted. The man cast his missile. I nearly screamed. But Carmina was fast and making a side-step, she let the point of the javelin past her and caught the projectile on the shaft. Without even thinking, she cast it back and the man sank to his knees. I rushed to her side and if we were not in the thick of battle, I would embrace her and kiss her. But this was not the time to do something so sentimental. Deaths were all around. The arena was carpeted with fallen men and women. Much of the sand had been dyed crimson and at some places, the blood had caked. Carmina had picked up a gladius from a fallen comrade. A man charged at her with raised sword. But he had underestimated the fighting skill of his adversary. She parried the downward cut and landed her own sword upon the side of his neck. The man groaned and sank to his knees. He knew he was dying and he even braced his chest for the killing thrust. Carmina obliged him. At least this one was brave. Things were not frequently so good for us though. A young woman close to me was ensnared by a throwing laculum, which was lead-weighed at the perimeter. She stumbled and her opponent, finished her off with his trident and made three bloody holes in her chest. She dropped without making even a moan. The man was trying to free the net now and he was looking at me. I knew I was targeted as his next victim. Without knowing where the courage came from, I charged, dodged his swing of the pole-weapon and buried the blade of my gladius into his waist. He screamed in pain and backed away. Somehow, my gladius had cut his belt and his loincloth fell. It should be kind of funny to see a gladiator without his loincloth, his manhood dangling. But nothing was fun in this field of slaughter. I rushed him and plunged the blade through his navel. That was my first kill. I had fought in arena fights before but every time, the plead for mercy was given. I was spared twice and two of my worsted opponents also came out of the arena alive. Somehow, I did not panic, or was filled with joy. The killing, the taking of another’s life, seemed so unreal. I just stood there, looking at the bloodied blade. “What are you doing, Angelina?” Camina’s warning shook me back into cruel reality. Men and women were fighting and dying around me: more men now, less women than when we started. Many of the pretty girls had become pretty corpses. It was a miracle that I was still standing. I fought my way as I tried to close rank with Carmina. I knew she would try her best to protect me. And I would readily give my life to protect her if needed. I got the chance. An arrow was cutting throw air towards her and she was not even aware of it. I jumped and caught the missile with my parma. The shaft was still quivering when I looked at it as I sprawled on the ground. Carmina helped me up and glared at the arrow and then at the direction from which it came. An archer, outside the arena, was shaking his head. He was disappointed that the arrow had not landed at the spot which he had aimed: Carmina’s back. He was a legionnaire which made him immune to our striking back. I knew what it meant: Carmina was doing too well and someone did not like it. We disregarded him. Or rather, Carmina left him there and I took steps to guard her back. She cut down one Roman after another. Now with all these surprises, our numbers began to tell. The Romans were suffering severe casualties now, though the number of our dead and wounded, which also meant they would be slain quickly, was far greater. Fewer and fewer were left standing. The crowd had fallen silent. The great victory of the Romans over the barbarians had not materialized. We fought on. I made a second kill. The killing made me feel guilty but I knew I had to do it. Finally, there were only four of us and three of them standing. “Get them!” Carmina said. We charged and in panic, our opponents started to run. A young and very pretty woman was close to getting one of the fleeing Romans when a javelin caught her in the back with the point coming out in front. She stopped in her track and looked at the protruded part with her blood on it. Then, her knees buckled and she fell flat. I saw her body twitching in the bloodied sand a few times. Then, she was still. I was filled with rage! This was so unfair! I shouted and went after the fleeing Roman and with one blow, cleaved his skull open. But then another one was turning round and charged at me. I raised my parma to black his glaudia but the blow from him was so powerful that it sent my flying across the sand. My over-sized helmet rolled off me. He came after me and I had to block his attack with my parma. The blow shattered my shield and I was left with only my gladius to protect myself. He went in for the kill. I made one parry but his blade slip through. I inched back just in time to escape being sliced into two halves from the top. But my strophium was cut into two halves and my breasts bounced out. Perhaps I had really beautiful tits. The man was stunned by the sight for the time enough only for the blink of the eye. It was enough. I used my blade to sweep up sand into his eyes and when he was trying to get his sight back, I cut his tendon of his right leg and he sank down, only to meet my blade aiming at his belly. I stood panting and saw Carmina standing over the corpse of the last Roman. We had won! Carmina and I were the only two who had survived this mock battle. We faced the emperor, our bodies covered with blood and sweat, as we waited for his verdict. “He is going to free us, right?” I asked naively. Carmina did not reply. She knew better. The face of the emperor was so clouded. It was not good news. “What was he trying to do? Should we please him by letting them kill us off instead? “ “Perhaps, it IS better.” Carmina sighed. She was right. Perhaps that would be better. The verdict came. I was to fight Carmina, to the death. The winner would be crucified. We faced each other. I, naked waist up, with little battle experience, would be no match for Carmina. But I had to fight. I had to fight and win to save her from the agonizing death on the cross. Carmina! Let me kill you! I do not want you to suffer that! I charged. I landed blows and blows with my gladius and she parried. She did not counter-attack. There were tears in her eyes. I knew what she was thinking. Like me, she did not want to see my twisting in agony on the cross. It might take days to die. Yet, she could not bring herself to kill me. I knew it was not out of fear for the consequence. No one wanted to die in this terrible way but Carmina did not kill me because she truly loved me. It was one thing to try killing out of compassion and another thing to actually do it. I struck again and again and my arms soon got so tired that it was becoming more difficult to raise my sword. I knew I had the strength only to make one more thrust. And then I felt my blade sink into her at her waist. But my arm was now so tired that the thrust was only skin deep. Then, I felt the cold of her blade entering my body, gliding through my rib-cage and penetrating my heart… Warm blood oozed from my mouth. I looked at her, shaking my head… “It is the only way, Angelina…” And she threw her own body forward and my own blade went in and stopped only when her body hit the hilt. We stayed standing, for a while and stared into each other’s eyes. “Thank you, thank you.” I tried to voice my gratitude with my weakening voice. She smiled. And we fell together. I landed with my head resting on her proud breasts, which was still covered by her strophium. One of her hands was cupping my bared breasts. I felt her fleeting warmth… They were running towards now, probably to crucify us when there was still time. The order of the emperor was not to be thwarted. They would strip both of us naked, nailed us to the beams and then had the cross erected for all to see and shout their humiliating remarks at us. We would be left there until we were no more than cadavers to be pushed down the wells at the end of the dark corridor so that they would be washed out to the Tiber and then, the sea. I cared not. Carmina had stopped breathing though I still could struggle to take in a breath or two. I would be dead soon, much sooner than the emperor and his blood-thirsty senators and mob would like me to be. And I would be with her. What a nice way to end the day for a gladiatrix! I closed my eyes and waited for the long untroubled sleep…