Wolf’s Empire: Gladiator (36 page)

“She has come to House Sertorian not out of anger or hatred but because of the love she bears for her countrymen. She wishes to see all Viridians unified with their enemies. Her transformation into this magnificent specimen demonstrates that a fragmented empire can be united. That all Romans can overcome their differences to see the way forward to universal brotherhood and enlightenment. Whichever house wins the Ludi Romani, I want to commend Accala on having taken the first step toward peace.”

Before the crowd could erupt again, Proconsul Aquilinus continued.

“I know you want to ask these mighty warriors about the tournament, but before I depart the stage I have an announcement to make that I think will be worth stealing a moment of your time—perhaps the greatest announcement of the millennium. There has been intense interest in my New Gods campaign across the empire, and I'm beset by billions of citizens begging to share in the genetic inheritance of House Sertorian. Moved by their petitions, I have performed a mighty act of creation.”

He raised his arms, and the air around the stage was suddenly filled with holographic billboards. In the distance, other billboards around the city flickered and changed as well. I had no doubt the same was happening all over the empire. These billboards showed not just majestically proportioned Sertorians in action, but also members of the other houses, arm in arm with Sertorians, fighting off barbarian invaders. Tullians and Ovidians, Flavians and Calpurnians, even Viridians. As allies. As genetic equals. The slogan beneath them revealed Proconsul Aquilinus' newest sales pitch:
AMBROSIA BY AQUILINUS. THE ELIXIR OF THE GODS FOR
EVERY
ROMAN.

XIX

G
ODS, HE WAS REVEALING
his own secrets. What kind of a game was he playing?

The audience went wild. News tickers on the billboard screens showed that the odds at the betting houses for the Blood Hawks dramatically fell and the payout for a Viridian win skyrocketed. He was winning the empire over right here and now, before the tournament had even begun. Aquilinus had just won the audience, bribed the galactic mob with the sweetest of promises. They'd side with him, with the Sertorians, the favors and decisions would all swing our way. And worst of all, I was the walking advertisement, the proof that he'd share what he had. I felt sick.

“As you can see from the treatment Accala has undergone in such a short space of time, House Sertorian is no longer the sole possessor of genetic superiority. I'm pleased to announce that I have bottled the substance that gives us our unique strengths so that it can be made available to all Romans.”

An Iceni slave stepped forward holding a red cushion upon which lay an elegant phial, the same as the one I saw in the casket in Licinus' cabin. The proconsul held it up before the bedazzled audience, which hung on his every word in grotesque adoration.

“This is ambrosia—the elixir of youth, of strength, of beauty. For the first time in human history, the ladder that ascends from dull mortality to the realm of the gods can be ascended by mere mortals. I offer it as a gift to be made available to every single Roman regardless of house or station!”

The crowd was delirious; a hundred hands clambered for the phial of ambrosia. The cheers were mixed with cries of astonishment. Questions flowed from the crowd below, but the proconsul only smiled and waved, refusing to answer them.

The cost! What is the cost?

Aquilinus was about to turn away from the podium when he made a deliberate pause, deciding to field one question after all.

“Cost? Do you charge for a gift? Ambrosia will be free, even to our Viridian friends here,” he said, motioning to the Golden Wolves. “All that is required in exchange is that you profess your belief in the precepts laid out in my book.”

The crowd was nearly stunned into silence. There was no precedent for generosity on this scale. But there were dissenting voices. The general gist of which was,
But I am loyal to my house! I cannot swear allegiance to House Sertorian.

“Nor would I ask you to,” Aquilinus said. “An affirmation of the precepts is an affirmation of Romanness, of the exercise of strength and power that makes us the great empire we are. I ask no man or woman to dishonor his or her house.” He put his arm around me again. I felt that I should have said something, but what was there to say? That the Sertorians would make use of me was to be expected, but I was naive as to the extent to which they would go at it. Standing beside him, I realized that like a good butcher, Aquilinus would use every part of me, let nothing go to waste.

“If you have any doubts, watch my warriors perform,” he continued. “Watch them dominate in the arena, and ask yourself, wouldn't you like to be just like them? Stronger, faster, more intelligent. Study Accala and know that if we are prepared to transform our enemies, you can be certain we will do the same for you.”

He finished to rapturous applause. However much of a threat Licinus and Crassus were, this man, their master, was without a doubt the most dangerous man in the galaxy, and I was a pawn in his game. I risked a quick glance at my uncle, seeking some reassurance that he had expected Aquilinus' revelation and knew what to do next, but he was already delivering a speech to the Caninine teams.

Proconsul Aquilinus spread out his arms and drew Licinus, Crassus, and me aside, speaking quietly but deliberately to us so we could hear his voice over the noise of the crowd.

“Tribune Licinus, it seems that Gaius Crassus' approach has merit after all.”

“Yes, Proconsul,” the sour-faced tribune replied, head lowered, abashed. I'd never seen him like this before, cowed like a contrite son before a strict father.

“If she can survive your tests, has she not proved she has enough power to keep her place on the team?”

“As you say, Proconsul.”

“I am well pleased with you, Accala. You will help many of your people. I look forward to seeing what you are capable of in the arena,” he said. The thought that I might win his approval sent a tingle of excitement coursing through my body.

“Thank you, Proconsul,” I replied. The words galloped out of my mouth like wild horses fleeing before I could bring them to rein.

“You've made a bold move today, Proconsul,” Crassus said. Did the announcement come as a surprise to him as well? It seemed so.

“Those who wish to embrace greatness must never fear to exercise their strength,” he said, and, as Aquilinus made to leave, Crassus and Licinus each took one of his hands and kissed them reverently.

Handlers led the Talonite teams to a transport that carried us through the streets to the contestants' complex.

It seemed that this tournament, much like the war, was as much a battle of perception and politics as it was an exercise of force and power. Licinus said that the war hadn't stopped, that it had merely relocated to Olympus Decimus for the duration of the games. He was right. Now I must pretend I hadn't known about the ambrosia they'd been slipping into my tisane.

“What have you done to me?” I demanded of Crassus. “That's what you've been giving me, isn't it? Ambrosia.”

“I thought you'd be pleased,” he said. “Why do you think your transformation has been so rapid? You must have suspected the change was more than just cosmetic. You are what I said you would be: a symbol of a new future. Be honored, you are the first non-Sertorian ever to receive it. Right now there's an empire's worth of citizens who long to obtain even a taste of what you've had in plentiful supply. Don't worry, you saw the proconsul. He is pleased with you. That is everything. For both of us.” He put his arm around my shoulder, and a warmth spread through my body.

Cheering people lined the streets as we passed. Some priests in purple robes led a parade of fifteen enormous white bulls through the snow on the way to the city's local arena, where the opening ceremonies would be held the following morning. One would be sacrificed to Jupiter for each day of the event.

The purpose-built athletes' village was part of the emperor's upgrade of the planet—a round dome, separated into eight sections like a cut-up pie, permitting accommodation for each house team. It was an imposing classically designed complex fronted by a traditional portico with Doric columns and wide steps. Banners of imperial purple had been unfurled along the columns.

Inside it was luxuriously warm, with tropical palms and ferns transported from Mother Earth's equator along with a humidity to house them.

“Thank Mars for this heat,” Barbata said. “I'm tired of that biting cold already! It's playing all hell with my skin.”

“You'd do well to watch your tongue,” Licinus snapped at her. “We don't let the old gods slip into our thoughts or speech!”

Barbata turned pale. “I'm sorry, I … it was a slip of the tongue. Don't tell the proconsul,” she pleaded.

Licinus smiled and said nothing, but I had the sense that later, in private, she'd pay some penalty.

Before we were permitted to retire to our quarters, the games editor, Magistrate Julius Gemminus, summoned all the athletes into the welcoming hall, a round room at the center of the building.

“Welcome, welcome. I know you're all going to put on a splendid performance. You know, I've never put so much thought into a course before. I think you'll all find it quite stimulating.”

Out of the media spotlight, groans and complaints were thrown freely, mostly to do with wasting valuable recreation time.

“Be patient, athletes. I've summoned you here with important news! You should know before we reveal it to the media outside.” His voice boomed around the vast dome and instantly grabbed everyone's attention.

“Yesterday, several of the course technician stations were overrun by indigenous barbarians.”

“Those Hyperboreans?” Vibius Viridius Carbo called out.

“Yes.”

“How many?”

“Quite a lot,” Gemminus said evasively. “It turns out there's a lot more of them than we initially anticipated, and it would be fair to say that the natives are restless. There's been something of an uprising among the beasties. They're led by a bull, a large warrior who seems to act as their chief.”

The news caused some squabbling and outrage, and several team leaders and trainers started objecting that they hadn't had enough prior warning, that they weren't prepared to have the spirit of the games violated or their athletes' energies spoiled by putting down a local wild animal problem when they should be reserving their killing powers for the games.

“Yes, I understand, I understand,” Gemminus soothed. “Fear not, the emperor has approved that we include them in the fun, but they will not be permitted to interfere in any way with the running of the games. They'll be included for sport, nothing more.”

“And if there are too many?” Publius Ovidius Bibaculus, the gruff Ovidian leader, called out. “If they swarm?”

“Trust me, you have nothing to worry about, I will not allow the spirit of the games to be violated. The ice monkeys will have as much chance of killing you as you do of them, but no more. The majority of audience members polled believe it will add spice to the games.”

Mass swarms of Hyperboreans were not on anyone's schedule of daily drills, and the level of complaint and swearing when Julius Gemminus withdrew was intense.

Praetorian attendants separated the teams, ushering them to the segregated house quarters.

“This is the emperor's doing, he's playing with us,” Licinus grumbled.

“All of you have been assigned private rooms,” Licinus said. “Enjoy your last night of comfort and rest and forget everything you just heard. Don't give the barbarians of this world a second thought, let the other teams worry about that. If you see a Caninine fighting a barbarian, take the opportunity to stick him in the back. The Blood Hawks will claim a minimum of two dead enemy contestants per day, preferably Viridians. After that, all I care about is that one of you stays alive long enough to cross the finish line and seize the laurel crown for House Sertorian.” Once we were in Sertorian quarters, the Praetorians seperated us again.

“Sweet dreams.” Mania smiled at me as we split up.

I hadn't felt her presence in my dreams since the night Bulla died, but then I hadn't been having any dreams to speak of. The small woman used to unsettle me, but now I had the sense that the tables had turned and she was slightly unnerved in my prescence. Out of all of them, she sensed most keenly my desire, my need, to make the Blood Hawks suffer and bleed.

I signaled to Julia that I needed to see her at once, but as I left, Gaia Barbata sauntered up to me and spoke in a conspiratorial tone. “Don't think I don't see what's going on between you and the redheaded grease monkey.”

“Nothing's going on,” I said carefully. “Except that she knows how to make herself useful. We were bunked together on
Incitatus.
”

“Useful?” she asked with a smirk. “Don't worry, I understand. Sertorians take what they want, and we all have needs, don't we? It's the ambrosia, you know. One of the side effects is that it makes me want to fornicate and execute all day long in equal measure. It makes life sharper and the taking of it all the more sweet. We were all wondering, taking bets on how long you'd be able to divert Crassus' advances, but now I see you're seeking satisfaction in other areas. You could have come to me, you know. I don't know what you see in that low-born mismatch of genes. Redheads are unlucky; we culled them from our gene pool centuries ago.”

“It's like you say,” I replied. “She serves a need … and doesn't have the code to shock me.”

“Well, you'd best not let Gaius Crassus find out if you want to keep your little pet.”

It suited me for Barbata to think I was using Julia for sexual release. It would help explain if Julia was caught in my room on other business. I did feel the urges Barbata talked about, but I channeled them, turned them into fuel that kept me focused and accelerating toward my goal. I hadn't revisited my night with Julia or engaged her in conversation much since Bulla's death. I'd been too busy with preparatory training drills, and if my redheaded immune had been disappointed by my lack of attentions, she hadn't made mention of it.