Chapter 1

Some weeks after the praetor’s visit, Kaelus was returned to the arena to fight a mystery opponent. This was a highly publicised bout that left not one free seat in the house. Kaelus stood on the sand, his bare, muscled torso glistening with sweat and his gladius held firmly in his right hand. From the entrance opposite him, a figure emerged.

It was a far smaller figure than Kaelus had been expecting, and it was trembling visibly as it stepped into the harsh light of the arena. The crowd’s murmur grew into a wave of confusion and shock. Kaelus’s opponent was a small boy, clad in armour that was too big for him, and dragging a sword that was too heavy. Kaelus felt his heart sink as he recognised the face of the terrified child.

‘Aulus?’ Kaelus whispered, his voice barely audible over the roar of the crowd. ‘No... ‘

His eyes widened in horror as he took in the sight of his younger brother standing before him. Aulus looked around the arena in fear and disbelief. His once bright eyes were now clouded with tears, and his small frame seemed dwarfed by the grandeur of the brutal setting.

‘Kaelus, I believe you are already acquainted with the newest member of my ludus,’ the master called mockingly. ‘Why don’t you show him the ropes?’

Kaelus’s sword shook in his hand as he looked from Aulus to the master. His mind raced, struggling to process the nightmarish reality of the situation. The weight of his promise to protect Aulus, the sacrifices he had made, and the love he held for his brother all collided in a crushing wave of despair.

‘No!’ Kaelus shouted, his voice breaking with raw anguish. ‘This can’t be happening!’

The master’s expression remained cold and unyielding. ‘We don’t expect a duel to the death, of course ... not this time. Fight him, Kaelus, and make sure you put on a good show for these people, or the consequences will be dire for both of you.’

Kaelus looked at Aulus, his heart breaking at the sight of the child he had sworn to protect. The crowd’s roar faded into a distant hum in his ears as he struggled to maintain his composure.

‘Aulus, I... ‘ Kaelus’s voice cracked, and he choked on his words. ‘I’m so sorry. You’ll have to ... I mean, we’ll have to ... I mean, I’ll have to... ‘

Aulus stood frozen, his eyes filled with confusion and fear, unable to grasp the situation fully but understanding enough to know that there was much at stake for both of them. The master’s patience was wearing thin.

‘Fight now,’ he ordered, ‘or these good people will get what they came for in a different way – a way that will inflict unforgettable harm upon you, Kaelus.’

Kaelus’s gaze was locked on Aulus. He could see the desperation and terror in his brother’s eyes, mirroring his own anguish.

‘I ... I can’t hurt you,’ Kaelus said. ‘I won’t.’

With sudden resolution, Kaelus threw his weapon to the ground. He walked slowly towards Aulus, his movements deliberate. The crowd’s cheers turned into a cacophony of confusion and disappointment. The master’s anger was palpable as he watched the defiance unfold.

Kaelus reached Aulus, dropping to his knees in front of him. He looked at his brother with tear-filled eyes, his hands reaching out to grasp Aulus’s. The arena fell into a stunned silence.

‘I won’t fight him!’ Kaelus declared. ‘I won’t harm my brother! No matter what you do to me, I’ll never hurt him.’

The master’s face reddened with fury, but the sight of Kaelus and Aulus in their desperation began to shift the mood of the crowd. Whispers and murmurs filled the air as the audience processed the dramatic turn of events. Some of them even started calling for both boys to be released there and then, not only from the arena but also from slavery itself.

But the master was certain that they would change their minds once he had given them the show they had come to see. With a sharp, commanding gesture, he signalled for the guards. Two heavily armoured men strode into the arena, their faces set in grim determination. They approached Kaelus and Aulus.

‘You’ve chosen your path, Kaelus,’ the master’s voice rang out. ‘And now you will face the consequences.’

Kaelus looked up at the master, his heart pounding. He knew that his punishment would be severe, perhaps even fatal. But no part of him was tempted to capitulate. He tightened his grip on Aulus’s hands, trying to offer some measure of comfort to his brother.

The guards moved swiftly, separating Aulus from Kaelus and dragging the small boy away to a corner of the arena. Aulus’s terrified eyes never left Kaelus’s own. The sight of his brother being taken from him was almost more than Kaelus could bear.

Kaelus was ordered to remain on his knees and clasp his hands behind his head. The master then decreed that he would be subjected to a relentless series of lashes with a whip, not only on his back but also on his chest and abdomen. Kaelus was well aware of the extreme and unremitting pain that awaited him, not to mention the danger of serious injury or even death, but his only regret at that moment was that Aulus would be forced to witness his suffering.

A guard carried out the order with mechanical efficiency, each crack of the coarse rope echoing through the silent arena. Kaelus gritted his teeth, his body tensing with every strike. The pain was excruciating, but he bore it with a stoic resolve, determined not to show any weakness.

The lashes cut through Kaelus’s flesh, leaving red welts across his muscled torso, each one a mark of his defiance. The crowd continued to watch in grim silence, their earlier excitement replaced by a sombre respect for the young gladiator’s bravery.

Kaelus’s gaze shifted to Aulus, who was watching, horror-stricken, from the corner of the arena. The sight of his younger brother’s terrified face, and the knowledge that he could not protect him, were profound sources of anguish. But Kaelus’s resolve remained firm, even as the physical pain threatened to overwhelm him.

The punishment continued unabated; Kaelus found himself struggling to remember what it had been like not to feel the continual sting of the whip. He was acutely aware of the agonising sensations of his flesh being torn open repeatedly and ragged chunks being ripped from the underlying muscle tissue, combined with the sickening feeling of his blood being spilt from his body.

The sound of the whip cracking through the air now melded with the relentless thudding of his own heartbeat, each pulse sending fresh spikes of pain radiating through his entire being. The sweat that soaked his skin mingled with his blood, making his body slick and his grip on consciousness tenuous. The torment felt endless, an eternal cycle of agony that threatened to consume him.

The pain was relentless, a constant reminder of his helplessness and the overwhelming cruelty of those who held power over him. He could feel his strength ebbing away with every drop of blood that poured from his wounds. But somewhere deep within him, a stubborn flicker of defiance remained, refusing to be extinguished despite the overwhelming odds. It was this that kept him clinging on to consciousness.

The world around him began to blur, the edges of his vision darkening, his body teetering on the brink of collapse. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth; he was not sure if this was from biting his tongue, or the result of some deeper internal injury. Not for the first time in his young life, Kaelus accepted the very real possibility that he was about to die.

Finally, jarringly, the punishment came to an end. Kaelus was left lying on the sand, his entire torso covered in blood. The master approached him, his expression a mix of satisfaction and disdain.

‘This is the price of defiance,’ he said coldly. ‘You will be confined to the cells for one week, and upon your release you will be expected to obey my orders – any orders – without hesitation. If I command you to strike down your brother where he stands, you will do it! Consider this your lesson in obedience.’