The Sword of Jupiter
Copyright© 2021 by Lumpy
Chapter 16
Ky came out of his quarters the next morning to find two of the men from Carus’s detail flanking his door. He still found the concept of men guarding him around the clock to be strange. Leaders in his time had guards, of course, but everything was more hands-off. With the kinetic shielding enhanced clothing, satellite tracking, camera networks, and AIs monitoring signals traffic, facial recognition, and pattern recognition, assassinations tended to involve large scale suicide attacks. The last one that he had ever heard of, one of the early Emperors, had been killed by Lunar separatists using a small nuclear device.
They had wiped out a third of a major city to get one man.
“With the Emperor’s compliments, Consul. The procession for the tests will get underway in an hour. He would like you to accompany him into the Colosseum.”
“I’m ready now. Let’s go.”
The entire procession was similar to the first procession several days before, except for smaller crowds. Apparently, the first day was a public holiday, which explained the crowds. There were still a lot of people in the streets watching the Emperor and his party make the walk to the Colosseum, but it was not the overwhelming mass of people.
The other major difference was that there were fewer government officials with the Emperor, making his box feel smaller once they arrived and sat down. The emperor once again had Ky sit on his right-hand side, indicating that Ky should lean in to talk with him once they were seated.
“I think you will find today much more to your liking than the gladiatorial combat. The first exhibition will be feats of strength. Contestants will challenge each other to feats of strength, with anyone unable to complete the next challenge eliminated until there is one winner left. Winning the feats of strength is considered an accomplishment, with the winner receiving a bounty and often paid to attend parties and other events. After the feats of strength, there will be a series of boxing matches and then a series of wrestling matches. While those are contested fiercely, they do not hold the same place of pride as the matches that will take place on the final day of the celebrations. Finally, you will go on to perform.”
“I am still unclear; what type of performance are you expecting of me?”
“That is a good question. Normally the tests end with the wrestling contest. Your participation is unique. While this is intended to boost the spirits of the Roman people, your performance has an additional means. We need to reinforce your unique abilities, give the people a reason to have faith in you. The more you reinforce your exceptional abilities with the people, the more they will accept changes to their way of life.”
“Does this performance need to be just me, or should I do something that involves other people?”
“Whichever you think is most appropriate, as long as it’s impressive.”
Ky nodded and leaned back, thinking the situation over. He knew for sure he would not do anything that would bring harm to anyone else. The Emperor continued to make the point that he needed to keep the people on his side. He, so far at least, had not shown the same concern over what the upper classes of Roman society thought. They were the ones who would be most affected by Ky’s changes. Many of them had their wealth wrapped up in the landed estates worked by slaves. The very sections of the Roman economy that would feel the most seismic changes from what Ky was doing.
Ky assumed the Emperor knew what he was doing. Considering the amount the average Roman citizens outnumbered the elite, it made sense that the Emperor would be focused on them.
The feats of strength went about as the Emperor had described. Strong men performed in singles, in pairs, even one set of four. They lifted, pulled, pushed, and threw all manner of implements, usually items made of stone or steel. While some were performing true deeds of strength, others were faking it. One man who seemed to be lifting a giant stone boulder had hollowed it out. His performance was convincing and the patchwork to cover the entry point where it was hollowed out from was well concealed. Without the AI, Ky would have probably never noticed the discrepancy.
The boxing match was more brutal that Ky had assumed it would be. Boxing was not something from his time, but records the AI had on the sport had included images of men with padded gloves. The boxers here had only linen wrapping their fists. The actual fights were violent and bloody, with many broken noses and teeth. While Ky was not a fan but, since all the contestants managed to walk away, it was a step up from the previous combat he had seen in this arena.
Ky watched the wrestling with interest since it was something he would be expected to participate in. The AI had dredged up some information on wrestling and how the art was actually performed, but ancient sources were unclear on specifics. The sport was no longer practiced in Ky’s time. While the AI did find references in its databases to versions of wrestling stretching back for several thousand years after the Roman and Greek sources, any actual information was part of the many areas not covered in the AI’s hastily assembled databases.
He had instructed the AI to analyze all moves by the performers, cross-reference those moves against modern forms of physical combat in the AI’s system, and start to build a motion assist profile. Because of the games compressed nature, starting late as the city held its breath at the approaching Carthaginian army, the final day of the games was only three days away. The shortened timeline did not give him a lot of time to practice with the new settings.
For the first time since he had been forced to watch the various contests performed in the arena, Ky was disappointed when the event ended, and its winner was declared. He was not bothered by the end of the event because of the loss of entertainment, but because he still felt he had not gathered enough data on wrestling to perform to the level he knew he would need to in three days. If the Emperor thought it was important that today’s performance be spectacular to keep the populace on his side, it seemed almost certain that he would also be required to not lose during the wrestling competition.
While he made his point that he would not actively support the ludicrous notion that he was somehow divinely imbued, he had promised to not actively sabotage the Emperor’s propaganda either. While he could probably make the argument that these performances were a form of active support, it seemed best to follow the Emperor’s lead, no matter how distasteful it was. Ky thought it almost certain that he would destroy the notion entirely if he managed to lose the contest.
Once the victor of today’s match received his rewards and accolades and all the contestants marched out of the arena, the Emperor held up his hands, commanding silence from the crowd.
“The Tests of Jupiter are a special time for every Roman,” the Emperor said, his voice echoing across the stadium. “Each of you has the chance to step forward and prove yourself before the gods and your fellow countrymen. Today, however, is unique across the history of the games. We have been blessed by the presence of one of Jupiter’s own, sent to walk among us. As a special tribute to the games in Jupiter’s honor, the Sword has agreed to a display for your enjoyment.”
The crowd clapped, not in thunderous applause but in uncertainty. Ky looked at the Emperor who turned to him, one arm still raised towards the crowd. He could not help but think the Emperor had been right. The crowds’ response showed they were still unsure of Ky and what his presence meant. He was not crazy about the way the Emperor manipulated everyone around him, but he could not fault the old man’s feelings for his countrymen. Which also meant there was a good chance he was right about the way to win them over.
Ky gave the Emperor a slight head bow in acknowledgment, both that it was time for him to perform and of his overall mastery of the situation. The Emperor returned the gesture with a knowing smile. Ky turned to Sellic, who had accompanied him into the box while the rest of his detachment waited outside the door to the box.
“Sword,” he said, holding out his hand.
Sellic seemed surprised, his eyes darting to the Emperor. Ky knew that Sellic trusted him, but the idea of drawing a weapon in the Emperor’s presence was not something Romans did without very good cause.
“Go ahead,” the Emperor said, watching the byplay.
Ky took the extended weapon, turned towards the arena, and, planting one hand on the stone edge of the box, vaulted over, dropping nimbly to the sand floor twenty feet below.
“I am not one for tricks or meaningless displays,” Ky said, letting his voice carry. “My performance will be simple. The Emperor has offered to give fifty thousand sesterces to the man who can touch me with a weapon of their choice.”
He looked back at the Emperor, who grinned at him, his shoulders shaking slightly as he laughed. Ky had just offered what was half again the yearly wage of a middle-class Roman. While not outside of the Emperor’s ability to pay, it was not a paltry amount. The Emperor read the offer, correctly, as a dig by Ky to pay back all the little surprises the Emperor had put in Ky’s lap so far.
“Any are welcome to challenge me. Just notify one of the guards, and they will bring you to me and arm you as you request. I promise you will not be injured and I will not touch you with my own weapon.”
A low murmur traveled across the crowd as they looked around, trying to see who would be brave enough to take Ky up on his challenge. Ky set his feet shoulder-width apart and held his hands behind his back in a relaxed parade rest.
“Deactivate the kinetic shield,” he said internally to the AI.
“Deactivation of protective shielding is not recommended, Commander. Current scenario allows for no forward preparation for hostilities.”
“I might get hurt, but I don’t think they will be able to kill me in one shot, and the nanobots should heal anything short of decapitation, even if they should get lucky.”
“Possibility of damage to protective flight suit also exists. Any damage beyond minor cuts and abrasions are un-repairable under current level of technology. The loss of your flight suit will remove the ability to generate kinetic shielding, increasing long term possibility of permanent injury or death.”
“Recommendation noted. I still want to take my chances. Deactivate the shield.”
There was a long pause. Long enough that Ky thought he might have to re-issue the order, which would be a serious problem in its own right.
“Understood, Commander. Kinetic shielding has been disabled.”
Ky watched as the first contestant came forward. He was a younger man clad in the standard belted, knee-length tunic that average Romans wore, in contrast to the elaborate togas worn by the upper echelons of Roman society. He had chosen a gladius as his weapon of choice.
The man stopped several feet away and glanced around him, unsure of what to do next.
“Proceed when you are ready,” Ky said, standing stock still, his sword at his side, pointing towards the ground.
The man was clearly not an experienced fighter. He did not so much attack as wildly charge first. Even if Ky had not been augmented, he would have been able to avoid contact. The man flew past Ky, his forward momentum carrying him past his own feet, sending him sprawling into the dirt. Luckily the sword had been held out in front of him, leaving him uninjured, at least physically.
Ky stepped towards the man and put a hand down to the man to help him up, only to have it batted away. His opponent’s face was flush with anger. Ky stepped back as, from his prone position, he swung up with his sword.
The attack was a better attempt than his last, but Ky was able to dodge it with ease as well. As the man’s sword arm sailed by, Ky reached out and grabbed him by the wrist, lifting the man one-armed and setting him on his feet.
The man’s eyes went wide as Ky lifted him with ease, much like an adult would pick up a small child.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. No one will touch me today, putting you in good company,” Ky said quietly to the man before looking out into the crowd. “Let’s have a hand for my determined friend. Do any others of you have the courage he displayed?”
Ky released his arm and gave him a firm pat on the back, pushing him back towards the gates that led up to the seating areas. The man gave one glimpse back before walking out of the arena, even managing a wave to the crowd as he left.
The next several were like the first. Unskilled Romans of the middle and lower classes without much in the way of military training. While most managed to stay on their feet, none performed any better than the first challenger.
The crowd, which had cheered Ky’s first opponent, had started to let their attention wander as the excitement waned. Ky was starting to think having people challenging him, rather than plan this out further ahead and picking his challengers, was a mistake. Admittedly, he had not settled on this performance until shortly before it actually started, leaving no time to line up potential challengers.
Ky was thinking about what his next course of action could be when something caught his attention, or rather the lack of something did. Up to this point, people were just being ushered onto the field, where they would take their shot. This time no one was ushered out. Instead, what Ky assumed was the normal announcer, since the man had announced the earlier competition and the previous gladiatorial games, began speaking to the audience.
“Now that the preliminaries are out of the way, the Emperor has arranged a special treat. Following his stunning twenty-seventh victory in the gladiatorial games, I give you Veremund.”
Ky turned from the announcer back towards the entrance ramp to see what could only be described as a giant. Ky was fairly average for his time, standing at an even six-feet. The beast of a man coming towards him was six inches taller and significantly wider.
More surprising than the man’s sheer size was the way he moved. While Ky would not call his movement graceful, it was both faster and more fluid than would be expected from someone his size. The giant strode confidently towards Ky until he was about seven feet away, and then broke into a run, the giant ax he carried in his right hand coming up diagonally over his left shoulder.
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