The Storm of Heaven by Thomas Harlan

Author:Thomas Harlan
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2001-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FORTY

The Practice Yard, The Ludus Magnus

Narses crossed the sand with a slight limp, leaning on his walking cane. In youth his body had been powerful and strong, but years in the Legion and the arena had taken their toll. The stump of his left arm was bound across his chest with a leather strap. Today, with the sun high and heat sizzling from the sand, he was stripped down to a loincloth and sandals. His muscular body was etched with scars and old, puckered wounds. Short gray hair frizzed the top of his head. Sand crunched under his sandals and squeaked under the tip of his cane.

The Amazon, Diana, was waiting for him at the center of the practice yard. The school mirrored the oval shape of the Flavian, in a quarter-scale replica. Seats under painted canvas shades and behind a tall wooden wall surrounded an oblong of white sand. The practice yard lacked the Flavian's various elevated platforms and hidden doors, but it served. Narses had canceled morning practice so he could consider his new prize.

She waited quietly as he approached. Archers stood ready atop the barrier wall, bows taut. Narses did not think he was in danger, but there was no sense in taking chances. Hamilcar followed him, lean and sun-bronzed, carrying a pair of wooden practice swords.

"My name is Narses," he said, coming to a halt. He approached her from the south, with the sun at his shoulder. Her eyes were gray slits, but she made no motion toward him. The lanista pursed his lips, looking her over. After a moment of observation he circled her, keeping two strides away, looking her up and down with a careful eye. Her only garments were a soiled breast band and loincloth. Narses returned to his original position.

"What is your name?"

The woman regarded him, then a half-smile passed over her lips. "Diana."

"Fitting. Is it your real name?"

"It is now."

Narses nodded, squinting a little with his left eye. "May I see your hands?"

"You need to ask my permission?" Thyatis' voice was filled with brittle humor.

"I am asking your permission," Narses responded, leaning on the cane. "Out of professional courtesy."

"I'm not a gladiator," Thyatis snapped.

"No." Narses smiled himself. "You are a soldier. I was a soldier once. May I?"

Thyatis held out her hands, palms up. Narses stepped to her, aware of Hamilcar stiffening with tension, poising to leap to his defense. Too, the archers on the wall sighted and drew their bows, ready to loose them. The woman did not move. The lanista ran his right hand over her palms, thumbs, wrists, feeling the calluses and tracing the pattern of scars on her arms. When he was done he stepped back. Narses seemed sad, even regretful.

"You shouldn't be here," he said. "You're a soldier, not one of these toys."

"Toys?" The woman almost laughed aloud but she restrained herself, clasping her hands behind her back. "I don't think your friend likes being called a toy."

Narses could feel Hamilcar's anger too, but he just chuckled.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.