The Chariots Slave (19 page)

“You should watch as your little friend from the auction is
next!” Barachius whispered into her ear. The stench of his
breath curdled her stomach, and she lost her reserve and
began to cry.

“You monster!” she screamed as she struggled to free
herself from his grasp to no avail.
“That is true, and soon I will be your monster!”
Taking a moment to compose herself, she thought about
Nadria. Although they were never really friends, she knew
she needed to offer the girl one last act of kindness before she
died.
Opening her eyes, Sellah focused on Nadria’s face. She
was afraid to look anywhere else for fear of seeing the fallen
bodies of those before Nadria.
Their eyes met, and in Nadria’s stare Sellah could see the
pain and hurt from the past weeks of her life with Barachius.
Death was now a welcomed friend to Nadria.
Sellah smiled and placed her hand over her heart, mentally
sending Nadria warm thoughts. And just as the blade was
raised and ready to fall down upon Nadria’s back, she
screamed forth words that Sellah would never forget.
“You are all slaves!”
The steel rushed downward, cutting through her delicate
flesh, a look of peace washed over her tormented face.
Sellah tried to turn her head against Barachius’s fleshy
arm. She could no longer stand to look upon the girl whose



broken body now bled out upon the stone ground. Yet despite
the tragedy before her, Sellah was perplexed with what
Nadria had yelled. What could she have possibly meant?

Focusing on her meaning helped Sellah forget about her
surroundings until Barachius opened his mouth to speak.
“Did you enjoy the show?” Barachius laughed, once again
causing Sellah’s body to shake alongside his.
Sellah refused to respond to him and instead focused on
Nadria as the guards dragged her body away with the others.
Some of the charioteers began their processions around the
square, and the crowds cheered for their favorites.
The sounds of the wheels on the stone, the clicking of the
horses’ hooves, and the shouts of the onlookers still did not
drown out Barachius’s heavy breathing.
All Sellah wanted was to run away and leave this place of
death and the sickening touch of Barachius. But as much as
she struggled, she could not break free of his grasp.
He spun her around in his arms to get a better look at her.
She closed her eyes knowing she would not be able to look at
his face. “I will enjoy my time with you,” he said as he
leaned toward her.
“You will let her go!” Thaddius growled as he drove his
chariot through the crowds to Sellah’s side.
Was she dreaming or did Thaddius actually hear her silent
pleas and come to claim his property?
“I said let her go! Do not make me come down from this
cart!”
Diana shook her mane and stomped her foot as if to reflect
Thaddius’s anger.
Supporters of the blues came rushing over to him, pressing
Sellah and Barachius closer together.



Sellah opened her eyes and looked upon her captor’s face.
The hint of fear he showed brought wondrous relief.
Thaddius was there—she was not dreaming.
Barachius shoved her out of his grasp, and she fell to the
ground. Tears of liberation pooled in her eyes. A strong and
familiar hand reached down to her. When her fingers
wrapped around his, a fire burned within her chest. Having
him there and holding onto him allowed her to feel a brief
moment of freedom.
“Come up in my cart, and I will take you back to the
stables,” he said as he lifted her effortlessly beside him.
Once she was sturdily planted on top of the chariot, he
moved his feet so he stood behind her. With his strapping
arms wrapped around her waist to keep her secure, he led
Diana and the team away from Barachius and back to the
safety of the stables.
Women hollered jealous remarks as they saw Thaddius
give another rival a ride. They wanted to be the ones he
wrapped his arms around, the ones pressed up close to him.
Though through all the evil glares she received, Sellah
couldn’t help but feel safe.
Vettius and Simeon came running to Thaddius when they
pulled into the makeshift stables.
“What happened?” Simeon asked as he reached up and
helped Sellah down. He wrapped her in his arms and pulled
her into his embrace.
“I wanted to see what was happening,” she said as she
looked up to Thaddius.
In truth, he was the real reason she was in the crowd. She
had never seen him race and wanted to catch a glimpse.
“And…they killed Nadria!”



She collapsed into Simeon’s chest, tears flowing freely.
He rubbed her back and whispered soothing comments into
her ears, while he looked over at Thaddius as if to ask why
this had happened.

Thaddius choked back the emotions that rose within him
upon seeing Sellah in the arms of Simeon. He cleared his
throat and tried to sound composed when he spoke.

“The Emperor had a blood sacrifice to start the games.
Nadria, the other girl from the auction, was among them,” he
explained.

“That crazy bastard!” Vettius growled.
“Watch your tongue when speaking of the Emperor,”
Simeon warned as he looked around to ensure no one had
heard his father speak the treasonous words.
“He is not my Emperor. He is men like Barachius’s!”
Vettius handed a water-soaked sponge up to Thaddius.
Thaddius took the sponge and wet his lips. Then taking
one last look at Sellah, he pulled on the reins and directed his
chariot to the start of the race. He shouted back some advice.
“If you want to watch me beat those bastards, there is a
good spot at the end of the via. We will be using the army
roads for the race as they are wider and straighter.”

tight space between the other two blue drivers. He pulled far
enough in so that Diana and the horses could rest their snouts
on the starting gate.

“Are you two ready for this challenge?” he asked knowing
full well by the looks of fear on their faces and the awkward
stiffness in their stances that they were not.

“Of course you are,” he tried to encourage. “Now heed my
advice. The road of this race is the same one used by the
army. That means it will be ruined by ruts caused by the
wheels of the army supply carts. Stay to the side of the road
at all times. Do not direct your team down its center. If you
catch a wheel in the rut, you could risk losing it. We only
have to go around this course once, so focus on completing it.
Don’t worry about winning. If you finish, then we can
continue your training and have you better prepared for the
next stage of this tournament.”

As he gave his directions, he looked over their chariots
and then their gear. “Where are your gloves?” he asked when
he noticed their bare hands.

One of the drivers sheepishly diverted his gaze while the
other one found courage to speak.
“We noticed you do not wear any and wanted to be like
you.”
“Then you are both idiots. The reins will tear through your
hands and you will have nothing left to grip. If the chariot
becomes of balanced, which they normally do, you will fall
out of your cart and be trampled by the drivers behind you.
Look at my hands,” he instructed as he held his palms out for
them to see. “They are calloused and scarred. For me, the
gloves are pointless.”
The men hurriedly grabbed their gloves and pulled them
on. Thaddius tried not to smile, but he couldn’t resist.
“Just do as I have taught you, and you will be fine.”
The trumpets sounded announcing that the race would
begin in a few short moments. The crowds screamed
alongside the trumpets. They beat their hands on their wine
vessels, stomped their feet, and waved the flags of their
teams.
Thaddius found his familiar foot grooves, rewrapped the
reins tighter to his forearm, and ran his hand over the rough
wood of the cart. He then closed his eyes and listened for the
breathing of his horses.
When he had managed to block out the roar of the crowd
and the taunts of the other drivers and just focus on Diana’s
breathing, he knew he was ready.
He matched his breathing to hers and listened for the
sound of the gate’s clasp releasing.
The trumpets ceased to make sound and the crowd stilled
as they watched the mappa slip from the magistrate’s finger
and float to the ground. It was a moment that seemed to



suspend time, and it was that moment that separated a winner
from a loser.

The others responded when the mappa touched the ground,
but not Thaddius. His cue was the sound of the gate opening.
He did not watch the mappa cloth drop. He did not absorb the
cracking of the other driver’s whips. He simply listened for
the gate to open. It was this sound and this alone that would
propel his chariot forward.

He braced himself, clutching tightly to the chariot’s frame,
knees bent and ready.
As the cloth was about to touch the ground, the small
sound of metal scraping on metal, the sign he waited for, met
his ears. The clasp had been released from the gate.
“Hijah!” he screamed, springing Diana forward.
The horses responded immediately and used their bodies
to push the gate the rest of the way. Their bond to Thaddius
was stronger than that of the drivers who motivated with the
whip.
The crowd gasped as the cloth touched the ground and the
doors swung open. They turned toward the start line to see
Thaddius and his team almost completely free from the gate
at the head of the pack.
“Right!” he yelled as the horses veered off following his
direction.
They circled the square and prepared to head down the
straight stretch of the via.
The crowd cheered and threw cloths onto the circus track.
As he passed them, they raised their arms, causing a wave of
hands to follow his path. He loved it when they did that,
when the crowd became one with the race.
He had the lead on the others and took a brief moment to

“Hijah!” he screamed, telling his team to speed up as he
wrapped the reins around his waist.
When they were secure, he found sure handholds on either
side of his cart and then pushed his body above his head with
his hands.
The crowd became a crazed machine as they pointed and
cheered for him and his dangerous stunt. Diana led the horses
down the road as Thaddius, with his back to his destination,
smiled and winked at the driver behind him— one of the
greens— before swinging his legs down and regaining proper
control of the chariot once more.
The sounds of cracking whips came at faster intervals as
the green drivers grew desperate to catch up. He was careful
to keep his cart to the side, away from the well-worn paths
that previous carts had taken. But the others were not so wise.
In an effort to pass him, one of the greens directed his chariot
into the center of the road.
Almost immediately his wheel slipped into a rut, causing
the whole cart to twist sideways and flip over. The driver
jumped free as the cart started into a death-dealing roll,
turning multiple times before coming to a halt.
The crowd loved the violence of the race. They screamed
in pleasure as they watched the injured horses struggle to
stand, and the charioteer as he attempted to dodge chariots
that drove straight at him. They shrieked and applauded as he
was narrowly missed by a chariot in his attempt to get off the
track.
Thaddius wanted to look behind to see what had caused all
the commotion, but he could not. His team was coming up to



the end post. He needed to focus on bringing the team around
the tight corner.

The crowds lined the turn, leaving little room for one
chariot, let alone two, to squeeze by.
“Left!” he called out as he pulled on the reins.
“Left!” he screamed again when his cart was taking the
turn too wide.
In his attempt to miss any bystanders, he over
compensated with the sharpness of his turn and ended up
scraping his cart along the side of the post.
This slowed him enough for another driver from the
greens to gain ground on him. As he straightened out of the
turn, the green driver cracked his whip down on Thaddius’s
back. Thaddius collapsed forward into his cart and clenched
his teeth through the pain.
“Apologies, I was aiming for my horse,” the driver
taunted.
Thaddius had no time to seek retribution other than to beat
the bastard who had whipped him. He ignored the pain and
righted himself as he guided his team to the right side of the
road.
“Let’s lose the wretched merchant!” Thaddius yelled to
Diana and the team.
Although Thaddius was still in the lead, the green driver
was right on his tail. And now they had to race head-on
against the few chariots that had not fully made it down the
track. Dust created a cloud, causing visibility to be limited
and he had to direct his chariot through debris from wrecked
carts.
One of the green drivers spotted Thaddius and out of
malice turned his chariot, directing it toward Thaddius’s. This