The Forgotten Legion - Kane Ben. Страница 37

'Remember what I said,' the Gaul muttered. 'Hold him off for a while. Then do what you have to.'

Romulus had just enough time to nod before the lanista looked at both. 'Begin!' Memor quickly stepped away to safety.

Just as Brennus had predicted, Lentulus rushed forward. Romulus raised his shield, moving out to avoid being caught on the ropes. But the Goth didn't attack with his sword. Instead he rammed the big scutum straight into Romulus' chest. The impact knocked him back on to the hot sand. Air rushed from his lungs. Desperately he swung at the secutor's legs, but the blade swept harmlessly off the greaves.

Lentulus stamped the gladius from Romulus' hand, crouching low. 'Stopped me fucking that Nubian bitch.' His eyes were merciless dark pits. 'So now I'm going to gut you.'

'You couldn't have got it up anyway.' Romulus felt for the hilt of his dagger and pulled it free. He would have only one chance.

His enemy drew back to thrust downwards and Romulus acted fast. He lifted the knife and stabbed it into the Goth's foot with all his might, pinning the leather sandal to the ground. Lentulus roared in agony, allowing him to get up safely. The shield was still on his arm, but Brennus' sword lay very close to the secutor.

Lentulus had fallen to one knee, still screaming in pain. Romulus paused, wondering what to do. Eventually the Goth dragged the blade free with a groan and hurled it outside the ropes. He stood with difficulty, the wound bleeding freely.

'You have no gladius. No dagger.' Lentulus raised his weapon, moving towards Romulus more cautiously. With each step, a trail of blood stained the sand.

Romulus eyed his sword, knowing he'd have to recover it as fast as possible. Otherwise there would be no chance of killing Lentulus.

For a short time, the pair circled each other, loud jeers egging them on.

Memor glowered from the side, irritated. Whatever happened, he would lose a gladiator who had cost good money. Brennus watched intently, his jaw clenched.

The Goth was now wary of attacking. Romulus was waiting for a chance to retrieve the gladius, but every time he edged towards it, Lentulus stepped in the way.

'Finish it!' Memor was losing patience. 'Or I'll send in Sextus.'

The little scissores grinned, lifting his axe.

Lentulus' face hardened and he advanced purposefully. The Spaniard would attack the weaker fighter in the ring. He had to kill fast.

Unsure what to do next, Romulus risked a quick glance at Brennus. The Gaul mimed a movement of his shield arm and he remembered. The young man let Lentulus come closer, bracing himself for the barrage of blows.

'I'll break both arms and both legs,' Lentulus panted, 'before I slice open your belly.'

'How's the foot? Looks painful.'

The Goth hammered his sword towards Romulus' head. The parry was difficult, his arm shaking under the force of the blow. But Brennus' shield held firm. He shuffled back a step, instinctively making Lentulus use the injured foot. The secutor cursed and stepped after him, taking a wild sideways slash. Again Romulus held it off, the impact almost numbing his arm.

Abruptly Lentulus changed tactics, stabbing straight at his chest. Romulus had just enough time to deflect the thrust. The wily Goth followed through with a huge shove, knocking him to the ground for the second time. Desperate to finish the fight, Lentulus swung his blade in the air.

Romulus did the only thing he could. He thumped a fist down on the Goth's wounded foot. It wasn't a very hard blow, but it didn't have to be. Lentulus screamed in agony, unable to deliver the coup de grace. Romulus rolled away and stood up, panting.

Tears ran down Lentulus' face as he swayed in front of Romulus. Time was of the essence. He seized the opportunity and ran straight at the Goth, shield raised as if shoulder-charging.

Lentulus braced himself.

At the last moment, Romulus swept the sharpened edge down in a scything blow with all his momentum. It took off all five toes on Lentulus' right foot.

The Goth shrieked in agony. Blood spurted on to the sand.

Romulus ran to pick up his gladius while Lentulus slumped to one knee, gripping his foot in a futile effort to stop the bleeding. He seemed dazed, staring fixedly at the neat stumps in front of him. The spectators, who had remained silent for some time, began to chant.

'Rom-ulus! Rom-ulus!'

He touched the point of his sword to Lentulus' chin. 'Why did you get involved with those murmillones?' he said. Although Romulus didn't like the Goth, it seemed brutal the quarrel should end like this. But Memor had decreed one of them should die, and it was not going to be him.

Lentulus let go of his foot. Fresh blood poured from the gaping wounds. If the surgeon didn't attend to him shortly, the Goth would collapse from shock. 'I cannot stand.' His voice was taut with pain. 'And I'll never be able to fight again.'

'Finish him!' Romulus heard Sextus yell. The cry was taken up by all.

Except Brennus, whose face was proud but sad. Romulus is like Brac, he thought. A natural. And he doesn't want to kill an unarmed man. Brac wouldn't have either. The Gaul closed his eyes.

The lanista would allow only one outcome.

Noise filled the enclosed yard, recreating the arena's claustrophobic atmosphere.

Romulus saw Memor nod.

It was time.

Heart pounding, adrenalin coursing through every vein, the young man moved closer. Against the odds, he had won a gladiator battle. Romulus did not want to execute Lentulus, but Brennus' advice echoed in his mind. Kill or be killed.

Still he held back, oblivious to the fighters' roars.

As if in a dream, he saw the Goth lunge clumsily at him with a short blade that he 'd concealed under the leather manicae. Romulus was too close to stop the thrust, but managed to deflect it from the groin artery with Brennus' shield.

The action saved his life.

Romulus staggered back, vision blurring, the dagger buried deep in his right thigh. Teeth bared, the secutor tried to knock him over, get close enough to finish the job.

It would only be a few moments before shock took over. Slamming the scutum downwards, he caught Lentulus' wrist with the sharp edge, drawing blood. The Goth cursed and pulled away.

Romulus waited no longer. He leaned forward and stabbed in one side of Lentulus' throat and out the other, severing the major vessels. Bright red blood gushed over his arm in a warm spray.

Lentulus gurgled as the back of his mouth and throat filled with fluid. Clawing uselessly at the iron, he stared into Romulus' eyes. The Goth seemed more startled than anything. He tried to speak, but could not.

Anguish filled the boy.

'Rom-ulus! Rom-ulus!' He was aware that the chanting had grown louder. Kill or be killed, he thought grimly, twisting the gladius as he pulled it free. Lentulus fell face forwards into the sand with a soft thump and did not move again.

The pain was suddenly overwhelming. Romulus staggered, staring at the hilt protruding from his leg. Dropping both sword and shield, he reached towards it.

'Stop!' Brennus was at his side.

Romulus toppled back into the Gaul's arms. Gently the huge gladiator lowered him to the ground.

'I let my concentration slip,' he said, voice tailing away as shock began to set in.

'Get the surgeon!'

The words came as if through a fog. Head swimming, Romulus could no longer focus. Pain surged upwards from his thigh, radiating in agonising waves. It took superhuman effort not to scream. 'Am I going to die?'

'You'll be fine.' Brennus took his hand in a grip of iron. 'Well done, lad.'

Romulus' last memory was hearing his friend roaring again for the Greek surgeon.