Atilus the Slave by E. C. Tubb

Author:E. C. Tubb [Tubb, E. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Spartacus, gladiators, Roman Empire, historical, ancient Rome
ISBN: 9781479409785
Publisher: Borgo Press
Published: 2013-04-30T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

It was the custom for the holder of a munera to give a feast in the amphitheatre on the eve of the games. All contenders were present by right, and the public were admitted, most of them bringing presents of food and wine together with cheap trinkets and lucky charms. Degenerates mostly, men and women who slavered over the gladiators, touching them, patting, hands straying to private parts.

I pushed away a painted matron and then a raddled old man, both of whom offered money if I would accommodate them. The man seated opposite me at the long, narrow table shook his head.

‘You were too quick to refuse, Atilus. Money’s always useful, favours too, it always helps to have friends when you’re down and needing mercy.’

‘From them?’

‘From anyone.’ He was cynical. ‘And the more influence they have, the more they can help. That woman, for example, those clothes she was wearing didn’t come cheap. She could have sons, certainly a husband, maybe a lover or two on the side. She’ll have relatives and friends and, if you made up to her, she’d get them shouting for you from the tiers.’

I glanced to where she was walking off with a scarred pugile.

‘Her?’

‘Well, maybe not her, but there’ll be others and you have to think of these things.’ He helped himself to more wine. ‘You’re young, Atilus, but you’ll learn—given luck.’

Elebus was a velite, fighting with a spear attached to his body by a thong. He was built like a whip, his stringy muscles barely knotting under his skin, his face long and mournful. He was also getting very drunk.

‘To youth, Atilus. You have it, I do not, well, that’s life.’

‘You want to go easy on that stuff.’

‘The wine?’ He shrugged. ‘Eat and drink, my friend for tomorrow—you know how it goes.’ He leaned back looking at the gladiators, the others. ‘Look at them, mourners at a funeral. That’s how it all began, you know, the ritual feast to speed the departed soul. Then fighters were used so as to give the dead man the company of slain warriors. Now we have the ludi, the games. A bigger feast, Atilus, over a bigger grave. The grave of Rome.’

‘Careful!’ He had spoken too loudly, heads had turned in our direction.

‘I worry you?’ Elebus grinned. It was a grimace barren of humour. ‘You’re lucky, Atilus. Young and strong and not cursed as I am with the ability to read the future. You doubt it? Give me your hand.’

He took it, filling the cupped palm with wine, brooding as he stared at the ruby liquid.

‘A long life,’ he muttered. ‘Successful as these things are measured. There is pain and hurt, but there is also joy. Beware of men who smile too easily. Of those who talk too much. Stay clear of women who make promises and of boys who want to get too close. Keep edge and point sharp and your mind on your opponent at all times. And always remember to smile at the crowd.

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