Companions (The Parthian Chronicles) (27 page)

‘Take off your boots.’

Surena was taken aback. ‘Why?’

‘Why,
sir
,’ snarled Domitus, ‘remember whose company you are in, boy.’

Surena bristled at his words but I pointed at his boots and he reluctantly pulled off his footwear, as did I. The sand felt warm and soft underfoot.

Drenis stepped forward. ‘You need to forget everything you have been taught about fighting. In the arena you fight barefoot.’

He pointed at Surena. ‘Just like a legionary you have been instructed to fight as part of a unit. You now have to learn to fight as a single gladiator, alone and facing a multitude of threats.’

Arminius walked forward. ‘But it is not just about fighting; it is also about putting on a show in front of thousands of people. You both have an advantage in that you have been fighting and training for years, at least you have Pacorus.’

He pointed at Surena. ‘Tell me more about yourself, boy.’

‘I’m not your boy,’ replied Surena. ‘I am an officer of cataphracts in the army of Dura.’

He held Arminius’ gaze with a steely intent.

‘It is important that we all work as a team,’ I said, ‘if we are to survive the festivities at Ephesus. Surena, you will give an account of your life before you came to Dura.’

I pointed at the three hard-faced veterans before me. ‘And you three will desist from provoking my former squire.’

Surena twisted his right foot in the sand as he told us of his time among his people in the marshlands, first as a boy fishing and helping his parents, later as a fighter killing the soldiers of Chosroes. He finished with an account of the ambush where I first met him. Drenis looked at Arminius and nodded.

‘That’s enough to work on. And you, Pacorus, you still desire to step into the arena?’

I nodded.

‘And have you given any thought of what type of gladiator you should be?’ asked Arminius.

‘There seems to be a wide variety to choose from,’ I said.

‘Naturally,’ replied Drenis. ‘Variety is an integral part of the games. No point in having gladiators dressed and armed in the same way fighting each other. Now young Surena, here, is obviously suited to the role of
Retiarius
.’

‘What’s that?’ enquired Surena.

‘A net man,’ answered Arminius. ‘You grew up wielding spears and nets to catch fish so wielding similar equipment in the arena should be easy enough.’

‘Of course your face will be uncovered,’ warned Drenis.

Surena was confused. ‘What does that matter?’

Drenis smiled. ‘Gladiators are considered among the lowest orders of Roman society, infamous if you like. A gladiator is a misfit and outcast from respectable society. For such an individual anonymity is often welcome.’

‘I do not wish to hide my face,’ announced Surena. ‘I wish the crowd to recognise me.’

‘
Retiarius
, definitely,’ said Domitus.

‘And you, Pacorus?’ asked Drenis.

‘What Spartacus was,’ I answered immediately.

‘Then it is settled,’ he said.

‘And you two, what were you?’ I asked Drenis and Arminius.

‘A Thracian, like Spartacus,’ answered the former.

‘A
Provocator
,’ said the latter.

Drenis told us that he would supervise the construction of our armour and weapons, drawing on his experience in Capua where he had first met Spartacus. I asked Arminius about the
Provocator
and he informed me that this type of fighter was heavily armed and armoured, with a helmet, chest protector, protective sleeve covering his sword arm and a greave on his forward leg. He gave Surena an evil smile.

‘No armour for the
Retiarius
, though, they are as naked as a new-born.’

‘The net men rely on speed to surprise and stay alive in the arena,’ said Drenis.

‘Suits me,’ shrugged Surena.

‘And what about you, Domitus?’ I said. ‘What role will you be assuming in our little drama?’

He rubbed his hands and smiled. ‘Your owner, of course. You are looking at the
lanista
of the
Ludus
Palmyra. Being successful I naturally have a beautiful wife, who happens to be a blonde-haired vision that I acquired in Gaul.’

‘What?’

‘I’m sure Gallia won’t mind,’ he informed me. ‘After all, you want our deception to be convincing.’

Drenis raised an eyebrow at Domitus. ‘In what world would a woman such as Gallia be interested in a wizened sack of leather like you, Domitus?’

Domitus held up his hands. ‘Just remember that out of us all only I am a Roman. So it makes sense that I should be the
lanista
.’

‘But why do you have to have a wife’ I asked.

Domitus raised his eyebrows. ‘What other role would you have her assume? A female gladiator, a slave? At least as my pretend wife she will be safe.’

‘I will see if she is agreeable,’ I said, not wholly convinced.

Drenis nodded. ‘Good. Training begins tomorrow. Don’t be late.’

Gallia laughed and thought the idea was most excellent when I informed her of Domitus’ scheme. I still did not understand why she wanted to go to Ephesus but she said that it was her destiny to go there.

‘Why?’ I asked.

She did not know. ‘All I do know is that Dobbai told me that Ephesus would give me the opportunity to bring matters to a close.’

‘What matters?’

‘I do not know.’

The next afternoon, under a blazing sun, I again walked to the armouries where my instructors waited to introduce me to the weapons and equipment I would be using at the games. Surena was already there when I dismissed my escort and walked to Dura’s makeshift arena. Outside the open entrance was a table, upon which was laid a variety of weapons, shields and helmets. Arminius waved me over and told me to take off my boots, leggings, tunic and vest. Surena was already barefoot and half-naked.

Soon I was in the same state as I put on the loincloth made of wool, the purpose of which was to cover my genitals, and the large, thick leather belt that covered the lower belly.

‘The Romans call it a
balteus
,’ Drenis told me. ‘It will stop an opponent slitting open your guts and littering the sand with your intestines.’

He passed me what looked like a leather windsock, which was actually overlapping leather segments attached to each other and fastened with straps.

‘It’s called a
manica
and protects your sword arm.’

I slipped it on and found that it covered the whole arm from the shoulder to the hand. My legs were also protected, by thick padding that wrapped around them, over which I put on a pair of highly polished bronze greaves called
ocreae
.

‘I feel like a gaudily dressed actor,’ I complained as I fastened the leather straps on the greaves that ended above my knee.

‘The games are above all a spectacle of slaughter,’ said Arminius.

Drenis picked up a helmet. He held it out to me.

‘Your helmet, Thracian. The armourers worked all night to fashion it but I think they have done a good job.’

It was a heavy bronze piece with a horizontal brim like a hat and had a full visor that closed in the middle and opened out sideways. The lower parts of the visor halves had outward-projecting rims to guard the throat, and their hinges had metal guards over them as a defence against weapon strikes. Like the scale armour worn by the horses that carried Dura’s cataphracts, the eyes were protected by the helmet’s thick bronze circular visor gratings. On the forehead was an embossed palm of victory and it had a distinctive griffin crest.

I pointed at the crest. ‘Dura’s griffin. An auspicious omen.’

‘You will see a lot of those at Ephesus,’ Domitus told me, ‘because in Roman culture the griffin is the guardian of the dead.’

‘It is heavy,’ I said.

‘Fights in the arena are mostly short,’ said Drenis as I placed it on my head and he assisted me in fitting the visor halves together and securing the hinges. ‘So unlike in the army you are not required to wear it for hours on end each day.’

He then handed me a small shield no more than two feet square. It was made of wood and faced with leather, being convex shaped and adorned with a red griffin motif. It was called a
parmula
and had no central boss. I thought it quite ridiculous. As I did the sword that Drenis handed me, a weapon that had a blade around fifteen inches long. Curiously, towards the point it had a bend of around twenty degrees.

‘Did the armourer have a bad day?’ I asked.

‘It is called a
sica
,’ said Drenis, ‘and is designed to get around an opponent’s shield and stab him in the arm, side or back.’

‘What about my chest?’ I asked. ‘It is completely exposed.’

‘It’s meant to be,’ said Arminius. ‘A gladiator exposes his torso to demonstrate his willingness to die if necessary, and a means by which his opponent can bring his end about.’

‘How reassuring.’

I was almost jealous of Surena. Almost. Compared to my absurd appearance he presented a much more modest display. Bare headed, he too wore a
manica
, though on his left arm, and a strange heavy bronze plate also fastened on the top of his left arm secured by means of a leather strap across his chest. It was called a
galerus
and projected some five inches above the shoulder, thus protecting the neck and most of the head from lateral blows. The upper edge was bent slightly outwards, thus retarding sliding blows and allowing the wearer’s head more freedom of movement.

‘This is not like any fishing spear I’ve ever used,’ complained Surena as he held the trident in his hand. ‘The prongs are too short and they are not barbed.’

Arminius snatched the weapon from his grip. ‘Of course they aren’t. You won’t be hunting fish in the arena. The last thing you want is to have your main weapon stuck in someone’s guts and be unable to retrieve it.’

He pointed at the net Surena held in his left hand. ‘And barbed prongs can get caught in your net.’

Surena grinned and cast the net before him. ‘Not in mine. I have fished with nets since I was a small boy.’

His net was made of strong hemp-rope with small lead weights attached to its sides for balance. It had a stronger thread around the outside so the
Retiarius
could tighten it around an opponent. The net was also fastened to Surena’s wrist with a cord to make retrieval easier.

To be fair Surena was a model pupil, wielding the net and trident with ease as he sparred with Arminius and Drenis. Though I had worked with weapons since I had been a small boy I initially found training difficult.

As the days passed Arminius and Drenis screamed and shouted at me to move more quickly. They were equipped with the swords and shields carried by Dura’s legionaries, though after a week Arminius attended a training session wearing a full-face bronze helmet with a large metal crest that resembled a fish’s fin. Like me he too wore padded armour on his sword arm but only wore one greave. He told me that he was armed and equipped as a
Murmillo
, the ‘fish man’, whose opponent in the arena was the Thracian.

‘Keep moving, Pacorus,’ Drenis shouted at me as Arminius tried to pin me against the wooden wall.

‘Use your mobility to dart in and out of range of his strikes. Look for a gap in his defences. If he traps you against the wall you are finished.’

I advanced a couple of steps but he charged and rammed his shield into me, throwing me back against the wall. Winded, I could not prevent him pinning me against the wood with his shield and holding the point of his sword against my chest.

‘That’s a kill,’ shouted Drenis.

Arminius backed off and removed his helmet as I coughed and spluttered. I too removed my helmet. Drenis ran over.

‘You are fighting like royalty, all honour and meeting the enemy head-on.’

‘How else should I fight?’ I pleaded.

‘Like a gladiator,’ replied Arminius. ‘Forget your upbringing and the battles you have fought. A Thracian gladiator is lightly armed and therein is his advantage.’

I looked at him blankly. He pointed his sword at my bare feet.

‘Quick footwork, Pacorus. Weave around your opponent, run away if necessary.’

‘Run away?’

Drenis laughed. ‘There is no honour in the arena, just death, shit, piss and blood. Use your mobility so your opponent strikes air with his weapons. Tire him out. If you are tired then kneel before springing into action.’

‘Above all,’ said Arminius, ‘avoid the wall like the plague. You have great stamina, Pacorus, so use it.’

While I got back my breath Drenis put Surena through his paces. Already experienced in the use of a net and spear, albeit ones that had not been adapted for the arena, he had little difficulty in wielding his weapons. Domitus strolled over to where we were standing as Surena danced around Drenis, trying to entangle the latter in his net by either throwing it forward of deliberately leaving it on the ground so Drenis would step on it.