Wolf’s Empire: Gladiator (15 page)

The vox populi's morning news bulletin ran my defection to the Sertorian team as its lead story, so every citizen in the city of Rome had time to be shocked, absorb the news, and then come to the parade stocked with an ample supply of outrage and rotten food.

They lined the streets, Viridians and their allies to the left, Sertorians and their cohorts to the right, Praetorian Guards in between using their shock staves to keep the street clear. The Viridians, my Viridians, hurled insults my way.

The six other house teams had already passed ahead of us, and the mob had showered them with cheers and blessings. Julius Numerius Gemminus, the tournament editor, had refused my request that the Blood Hawks come out on the first float and get the whole thing over and done with quickly. “I do not modify my presentation to accommodate the feelings of the competitors. Do you know how much work I have done to prepare every last detail of these games? I am a very important man. The Blood Hawks will come last and on the heels of the Golden Wolves. That is how I planned it and that is how it shall be.” He was an obese old man with a cherubic face and, when he was done yelling at me, he reached out and tenderly touched my right cheek with a fat hand. “You have added some unexpected spice to the day. I suppose I have to thank you for that. Don't expect anything but suffering, sweet thing. You are a tender morsel, and the mob will want to chew you well before they spit you out.”

Crassus insisted I wear the plain black robes of a novice Sertorian gladiator—the garb of a child yet to pass her blood initiation. A small red talon insignia marked my breast, symbolic of the blood I would shed for my new house. Orbis was clipped on my belt, but Crassus had warned me not to use my discus or even take it in my hand. I trembled with humiliation and dread, my stomach lurching from side to side in time with the movement of the hovering float, my ears ringing. My mother's pin was clutched like a talisman in my sweaty hand. I whispered my brother's name, again and again, squeezing the pin tight, welcoming the distracting pain as it bit into my palm.

Near the front of the float stood Servius Tullius Lurco—Lurco Giganticus—the hammer-fighting bestiarii, moving from one side of the float to the other, revving up both sides of the crowd. Behind him were four gladiators I knew only by reputation—competitors from the Sertorian arena circuit. Gaia Sertorius Barbata—a female retarius, expert with net and trident. Lustrous dark hair curled about her face, accenting her arched eyebrows. Beside her were identical twin brothers—the famous charioteers Castor and Pollux Sertorius Corvinus, generally referred to under the collective title Dioscurii. In the old stories, the beautiful Leda was mother to the Dioscurii, though only Castor was born to a mortal father. Pollux was the son of Jupiter, who had adopted the form of a swan to seduce and impregnate Leda. When Castor died, Pollux begged Jupiter to let his brother take a share of his immortality, and both were transported into the heavens to become the constellation Gemini. This pair were stars in their own way—lean, handsome, built for speed. As I observed them, the twins turned to regard me with an unblinking, reptilian coldness.

Next to the Dioscurii sat the bestiarii Mania Sertorius Curia, a skinny and pale young woman with white hair tied back in a tight ponytail. She carried a bow staff, a hunter's weapon, and at her sides two needle knives, but she was so small. She didn't look like she could fight off a cold, let alone an alien beast. The girl was animated, excited, chattering away at the Dioscurii, who ignored her completely.

Standing apart from the others, up front, was our team leader, Licinus Sertorius Malleolus. He was right there, the man I'd dreamed of killing, within my reach for the first time, only I was powerless, constrained. How would I survive the voyage? Forced to take orders from my sworn enemy, suffering under his command; it would be impossible. Only the thought of Aulus gave me strength. For Aulus I could endure this.

Rotten food—tomatoes, pomegranates, apples—hit the force shield that protected the float, sliding down the invisible barrier, creating the illusion of the air surrounding me being smeared with streaks of waste. My countrymen screamed and spat—
traitor, whore, Crassus' bitch, wolf slut
—the insults all ran together. I hadn't bothered to check my fan page on the vox populi that morning; I knew it would be filled with the same kind of vile insults and threats. And the hatred that surrounded me in Rome would not end when I departed Mother Earth. It would be waiting for me on the arena world. The jeers of the audience, their continuous calls for my death would stir my cousins and allies to spill my blood and win the mob's approval. I was now the number one target in the Ludi Romani.

“Accala?” Crassus held out his hand. “Take it,” he said. “A public gesture so they know you're here of your own free will.”

“I'm not here of my own free will.”

“Of course not,” he replied pleasantly, “but it's important that the people think you are.”

*   *   *

T
HE NIGHT BEFORE, MY
uncle had walked casually about his shipboard office, plucking fat purple grapes from a large cluster in his hand as he explained what he wanted of me.

“You're asking me to betray my house,” I said. “I said yes to Crassus only to buy time. To work out a strategy for rescuing my brother.”

“Then allow me to save you some time. I've already got one worked out for you.”

“The Sertorians will put me to work killing my own family members for sport. I'll be despised, an outcast. There must be another way, or another person who can do this.”

“No, it must be you, and not just because of Gaius Crassus' infatuation. Your mother was in possession of a great secret, a secret that can destroy House Sertorian once and for all, and she meant for you to uncover it. Destiny is calling to you, Accala, and it's speaking one name—Olympus Decimus.”

He offered me some of his grapes, but I had no appetite.

*   *   *

Q
UINTUS
V
IRIDIUS
S
EVERUS WAS
career military. He served alongside my father in the legion, and before being elected proconsul he served as the head of the curiosi—the emperor's secret police. When I was a child, he would sit me on his knee and ask me to try to figure out which of the servants in the compound were spies from enemy houses. He was fond of grapes back then too, and would give me one, along with a sesterce for each correct guess. “Children see clearly,” he said to me, “but you have an especially good eye for uncovering secrets and to my mind that should be rewarded and encouraged. Secrets have value.” The servants whom I pointed out would quietly disappear, one by one. Once, when I looked into their whereabouts, all I turned up were obituaries. The next time he asked for my help I turned him down.

“But withholding a talent that can aid your house is positively un-Roman. You must always be willing to sacrifice your own needs for those of your house—that's what real Romans do.” And so I helped him one last time, a young kitchen maid who seemed to know how to reprogram a security panel. One last time, that was all he asked for. “A test, dear niece, to see if you have potential, to see if you have the stuff heroes are made of.” Those were powerful words to an impressionable young girl, but it didn't change the fact that for months afterward I had nightmares, plagued by the thought that I might have been wrong and sent innocents to their deaths.

*   *   *

A
ND THERE HE WAS
eating grapes again. The sound of them being crushed, seeds and all, by his back teeth was a reminder of how efficiently my uncle dealt with any enemies who threatened the billions of Viridian lives that were his to protect and command.

“Listen carefully, dear niece. What I tell you now is a state secret and of the utmost importance to the survival of our house.”

He walked around his desk and tapped at the built-in console. A hologram of a familiar ice world filled the center of the room.

“Your mother traveled to Olympus Decimus on a highly classified mission for me.”

“My mother was a philosopher, a scientist, not a spy,” I said. “Her research was her life.”

“What child can ever truly know her parents?” he said. “Now listen. I know this is the first time you've heard this news, but I beg your patience. Hold on to your questions until you're fully briefed.”

How strange. I was prepared to kill Crassus for slandering my mother's name, for branding her a spy, and here was my uncle confirming it.

“The Sertorians stumbled upon something of great importance on Olympus Decimus—we first cottoned on to it when they started buying up unusable land in the mountains and tundra about Lupus Civitas, the capital city of the Viridian settlement. Before long they were sending out expeditions into the wilderness. Frozen wastes, barbarian-infested hills, useless land. I needed someone to investigate and tell me what they were up to. It wasn't the first time I'd asked your mother to serve our house in such a way. She arranged her research expedition so it would venture near the Sertorian properties, and after several weeks reported that they were searching for some kind of mineral. I've since learned that they call it
ambrosia.
The Sertorians considered this ambrosia to be so important that they were willing to attack and invade Olympus Decimus to stop the news of it getting out.”

“Ambrosia? What's so important about it?”

“Why don't I let your mother answer you. This was her last transmission, just before the bombs fell.”

The projection of the planet gave way to the scene of an icy cavern. Mother was in the foreground, looking right at me, dressed in a heavy jacket. It was surreal to see her after so long, wonderfully surreal. There was no sign of Aulus. Her black hair hung loose about her face, the white shock at the front as visible as ever. She didn't have her hairpin.

“Quintus, I don't have much time—the Sertorian invasion fleet has entered the atmosphere and started bombing the planet. I've uncovered much but dare not share it all now for fear that this communiqué will fall into enemy hands.”

She spoke slowly and evenly, her usual unhurried pace, despite the looming danger. She always had a good sense of timing, how to communicate exactly what she wanted to say in the available time.

“What I can tell you is that the Sertorians are expending vast resources to covertly mine this world. They're digging deep underground, into the hives of the indigenous Hyperboreans, searching for a rare mineral that has unusual transformative properties. I managed to throw a wrench into the works, so to speak, but it doesn't look as if I'll be around to finish what I've started.” She looked away for a moment as the cavern about her began to rumble. In the background stalactites crashed to the ground. “I'm afraid I'm out of time. Listen carefully! I know how stubborn my daughter can be so make sure you show her this next part of the message.”

The entire cavern was caving in now. Mother continued talking with a Stoic resignation, making no effort to protect herself as the rocks fell about her.

“Accala. It's important that you come here to Olympus Decimus and find Aulus. I've taken steps to ensure that your brother will survive the attack. I've given him my pin, the one that's been in our family for generations. It's been modified so that the two of you will be able to use it to complete my work here and deny House Sertorian that which they seek. It will take both of you to finish what I have started. Aulus is the lock, but you are the key, Accala. The pin will ensure you work together. If you become parted, it will help you find each other, so guard it carefully. Know that I love you, dear daughter, even in the life after this.”

Finally, she stood erect, removed her jacket, and straightened out the creases in her robes. A serene countenance, like a goddess.

“Quintus, I trust that you will act as you always have, to secure the interests of House Viridian. Hail and farewell,” she said with a slight smile. “And now I pass into eternity.” Then the rocks fell upon her, breaking her body apart like matchsticks. The projection cut out, leaving me standing there with tears streaming down my cheeks, my lips trembling. Her last words were a quote from Catullus, written as he mourned his brother's death.

“I'm sorry you had to see that, but now you know why your mother was really on Olympus Decimus,” my uncle said.

It was difficult, reconciling what I'd just seen with the dream that plagued me each night. They had nothing in common and the discrepancy confused me, threw me out of myself so that I felt like I was standing outside of my body, watching myself act from a distance.

“What do you make of the message?” my uncle asked. “I'm interested in your analysis. Your first impressions.”

“My mother didn't know how things would play out. Something must have gone wrong. She must have sent Aulus into hiding somewhere underground, somewhere where he could safely wait for me to come for him, but she didn't anticipate that the Sertorians would find and capture him.”

“A good assessment. You said he was in a cryogenic system in the footage Crassus showed you. That might well have been her solution, the Sertorians simply haven't had the need to take him out of suspended animation.”

“They must have taken him out at some point,” I said. “In order for them to recover the pin.”

“Yes, the pin. It's Fate, Accala, don't you think? Whatever measures your mother put in place to cripple the Sertorians, they required three elements—you, your brother, and the pin.”

“Unless the Sertorians got their hand on Mother's message and this is some kind of trap.”

“No, I can assure you that it came to me via secure channels. There is no way they could have intercepted it. Only I, and now you, know her last words. That's why I had to intervene the moment Gaius Sertorius Crassus offered the pin to you. Did you have the chance to study it? Was there anything written on it? Any markings or signs that could suggest a message?”