Sand of the Arena by James Duffy

Author:James Duffy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction/General
ISBN: 18132
Publisher: McBooks Press
Published: 2009-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

XVIII

September AD 65

The physician used his sharpest scalpel to cut the flax sutures from Quintus’s forearm. The German’s bite had left a distinct indentation in his right arm, although the physician’s liniment of arnica root and hypericum flowers prevented any infection from the barbarian’s revolting mouth. Now, back in the ludus infirmary, Quintus worked his wrist and fingers to be sure the wound did not impair his fighting arm.

“It’ll be a little stiff for a while,” warned Agricola, the head physician, “but it should be back to normal in a week or so.”

“You will be pulling on your rudis again soon, eh?” Lindani said, cackling.

The physician smiled. “I’ll bet that ‘rudis’ of yours will be kept busy from now on. The men tell me you’re acquiring quite a following with the ladies.”

“Ludus gossip doesn’t interest me much,” Quintus said casually. After a few more seconds of testing the suture-free muscles of his right arm, he glanced at the physician with an impish grin. “So, what else did they say?”

The physician and Lindani laughed. “Ah, so the unaffected, humble fighter is interested in his growing reputation,” Agricola said.

“Well, it’s good to keep up on one’s standing among one’s peers,” Quintus said with a broad smile.

Before he answered the question, the physician made a show of looking around to be sure they were alone. “Well ... I overheard Julianus say that they were thinking of jumping your ranking from tiro right to tertius palus, a third-level fighter.”

Quintus was stunned. That would mean skipping two lower classes in the meridiani, the mid-level rankings. More practically, it would mean better accommodations in the barracks soon and more money in his winnings purse.

“Be careful, sir,” Lindani said to the physician. “Soon the man’s head will be too big for his helmet.”

Quintus laughed. He watched Lindani’s eyes grow wider and a look of inspiration cross his face.

“You know...” Lindani continued, obviously formulating some sort of plan in his head as he spoke. “With helmets on their shoulders, every fighter looks the same in the arena. I think what ‘Taurus’ needs is something to set him apart. His persona must be unique.”

“I’ve seen him fight,” Agricola said as he returned his scalpel to the portable medicine chest. “His style is pretty unique.”

“No, I speak of something beyond fighting style,” Lindani explained. “He must stand alone in a crowd, even during the pompa.” He looked at Quintus, his face radiant with excitement. “Stigmates!”

Quintus felt his forehead wrinkle. “What?” The physician smiled. He answered for Lindani. “Stigmates. They’re a marking of the skin done with dye.”

“Like the Celt warriors with their blue faces?” Quintus asked, still puzzled.

“No,” answered Lindani. “These are artistic displays that adorn the body. Our tribal elders and the top warriors in Africa had the markings on their bodies. Once it is done it can never be erased, but when it is done right they are beautiful. They are a window to your soul.”

“And what sort of markings do you have in mind?”

“Well, you are now ‘Taurus.

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