Lover's Clash

I remember watching him be pulled away by the officers. The dust floating up in the air from his shoes dragging across the sandy orange ground. Everyone in town gathered around and watched the love of my life be taken away from me, all for being wrongly accused of stealing an apple. 

Today I sit in my hammock that I have set up on the roof of my strong clay house. I look at the town, it’s beautiful as always. The sun rising over the horizon. The sky is lit up in orange, yellows, pinks, and a beginning of the beautiful blue which covers the world as a blanket almost every day. 

I don’t find the view as beautiful as I normally would. I feel nauseated, my stomach full of worry. I know they will not let him go. My beloved fiance. We are supposed to be married in a few weeks, but that may never happen. He is now known as a man in captivity for stealing.  

We are not poor, we are actually very wealthy. I attempted to explain to the police that it wouldn’t make sense for my fiance to steal an apple but they would not budge. The usual punishment for stealing is the loss of a hand, however, my fiance is very well known and disliked for his riches and defiant and disagreeing attitude. Law enforcement has been waiting for a chance to take him away for good. I haven’t a clue what is going to become of him. Of us.

I sit for the rest of the day pondering what I am going to do if he does not return. I come up empty. I don’t see how I can afford to feed myself without his money and I can not imagine living without his unconditional love. 

I am walking downstairs, leaving the hammock of my roof, when I hear a knock at the door. 

I swallow the lump in my throat and open the door. A tongueless slave hands me a letter and turns and walks away. I quickly open the letter in fear of what it may say. 

It reads:

Dear, whoever it may concern,

We have the pleasure of letting you know, Thomas Rouge, will be participating in the gladiator arenas. You will be pleased to know that he will die as a celebrity and will provide great entertainment for your fellow Romans. You may come watch his first fight on June 18th, 8am. We look forward to providing you with great entertainment and glory.

I am in shock reading this. It is impossible he is becoming a gladiator just for stealing an apple? This must be a mistake. I remember it happens to be June 17th today. They are throwing him in the ring quickly, eager to get rid of him for others' entertainment. 

I’ve been to the arena multiple times, my father would take me as a young girl, for it is the most popular event in Rome. I have always found it disgusting watching men and women be gruesomely murdered while people cheer in the background. Now those same people may be watching the love of my life take a sword through the chest. 

Tears begin running down my face. Slow at first, but becoming loud sobbing as I fall to the floor. 

Even if he survives, I'll have to watch him kill someone. Who’s to say they won’t put him in another match right after that. 

Most of these gladiators are trained to fight. The ones that aren’t forced into the ring have training for this, They are ready to kill in a second of another person's doubt. Knowing my fiance, there will be a lot of doubt. He is not a person to casually take someone's life, nor will he be able to. Thomas, My fiance, is used to the stuck up rich life. He has never laid a hand on another soul. He is tall and has a good build but I'm almost certain he will know how to use that in battle.

I spent the rest of the day worrying about his chances of life. I do not eat, I do not drink, In the night, I do not sleep. 

Come morning I have no sleep to wake up from. I run through the streets to get to the arena. Maybe I will be able to see him before his possible last moments. However when I arrive I am turned away by the guards. I must wait for the fight to commence. 

I begin mourning, sitting on the floor at the entrance of the arena waiting for the doors to open. Soon enough, they do. I push my way through the crowd rushing to get a good seat. I wait in agonizing silence for the battle to begin. I wait for a long time. I feel my entire body shaking. The Roman’s sitting next to me are discussing the chances of the opponents. My fiance apparently has none.

I hear the sound of a trumpet, as Thomas is led out into the arena. People in the crowd cheer for him like he is a celebrity. Girls swoon, causing a wave of jealousy to wash over me, my face turning bright red. My jealousy is washed away once the opponent is led into the arena. He is a handsome, very young man. Quite small compared to my Fiance. Maybe Thomas has a chance. 

The battle begins with the young man selecting a sword from the collection of weapons, and my fiance copies him, doing the same.

The young man is surprisingly ignorant, running directly at Thomas as fast as he can. But Thomas is prepared. He waits for the man to get close and then slides to the side and blocks the man’s sword. 

I hold my breath. The young man is aggressive, I don’t know how much my love can take.

Minutes into the battle, the young man seems to be running out of energy. The crowd has stopped cheering, getting bored. I notice my Thomas seeming to be full of fear, as well as energy that he has conserved. 

The young man runs at him once more, striking his leg and creating a big gash. I watch as he attempts to kill my fiance once more, but Thomas is ready. He quickly slides out of the way and trips the young man to the ground. Swiftly thrusting the sword through his back.

I gasp in shock watching him stand victorious over the young man’s body. The crowd erupts in cheers. All I can do is hold my head high, acting unaffected. I am relieved to see Thomas is still alive, However watching him take someone's life makes my stomach churn. 

I begin to exit the arena with the rest of the Roman audience. When the anger in my body takes over. I walk up to a guard of the arena and begin to scream, demanding they let my Fiance go. They stubbornly decline. More guards here my yelling and approach to take over the scene. People gather around to witness what is happening. I am told I need to stop making a scene or I will be arrested like my Fiance, and he will be put against an opponent he will not win against. This angers me greatly. I let my anger take over and bunch the main guard square in the nose. 

I feel a man from behind my taking my arms and forcing them together behind my back. The same guard grabs me by my hair and begins dragging me away. “I hope that punch was worth it, gladiator. I should’ve known better. Now I will be thrown in the ring.

They lead me down a dark hallway in the arena, down a dark staircase and into a cell. It’s not a bad cell, actually it’s quite pretty, for a prisoner’s cell. They rudely shove me inside. 

“You fight tomorrow.” They inform me, and with that they walk away leaving me alone. It’s cold. The sun shines through a small window at the top of the back wall. I sit on the stone “bed” exhausted and in fear for tomorrow.

I spend the day pacing back and forth in the small space that will most likely be the last home I ever see. I go through fighting techniques I know and try to remember how the gladiators fought when I watched them as a kid. Come night time, I am surprisingly able to fall asleep. I wake up in the morning relieved that I was able to get some rest.

My relief does not last long, before I hear footsteps approaching me. 

“It is time to get you ready to fight.”

At this point I have accepted my fate, following the man down one of the cavern halls. He leads me into a room and I gasp seeing the beautiful gold and silver armor surrounding me. The guard gestures to a suit, gold and red. It is a very sexual looking armor. I am not surprised. This is for entertainment purposes, I suppose they get more enjoyment from women in skimpy armor. 

I accept the man to leave and give me space to change but he just begins taking the armor off the stand and helping me put it on. I find this very uncomfortable, but since I am about to fight for my life, I have other things to worry about. 

I have my armor on and look at my reflection in a mirror that leans against the wall. I am surprised by my beauty. I look like a gorgeous and strong warrior. I suppose this won’t be the worst way to die, looking like a goddess. 

I am led upstairs to a small room with a large wooden door and a lever. They explain to me that once this is pulled the door will open to the arena and I must exit or I will be killed on the spot. I nod in compliance and wait for the battle for my life to commence. I hear cheering coming from outside the door as my name is announced. Elizabeth Porter. 

I do not notice the level being pulled until the large door in front of me begins to rise. I walk out in my armor. The crowd erupts, clapping, and yelling cheers for me. It feels good. I wave enthusiastically at the stands. 

Suddenly the door across the arena begins to rise and I prepare to meet my opponent. 

Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. 

My Fiance emerged from the door, walking into the arena. The crowd cheers, but I do not hear them. All I can feel is my panic. One of us will die at the other’s hand. The crowd calms down and the trumpets sound, beginning the fight. I am frozen in place. I can’t bring myself to move. I watch as Thomas walks toward the weapons, grabbing a Gladius (a short sword). I grab a Pugio (a dagger). We walk slowly, cautiously, meeting each other in the middle of the arena. The audience is silent, so quiet you can hear the wind. 

Thomas drops his sword. “I’m not going to fight you, Elizabeth. He approaches me. “I know you would never hurt me.” He hugs me. I hug him back. The audience boos. 

“I love you.” He whispers. 

“I love you too” I say quietly kissing him.

“And I'm sorry.” I back away from the kiss, allowing the audience to see the dagger I have plunged into my fiance’s heart. He looks at me looking both shocked and understanding as he falls to the ground, a moment later, his body is limp.

The audience cheers, standing up in their seats. What I've done hits me like a pile of bricks, but I do not feel upset. 

I am famous. I am victorious. I am a gladiator.

It feels good.