Chapter Fourteen
In The House of Cicerius
As Batiatus predicted, their arrival was closer to midnight than sunset, but Cicerius and Selena welcomed them with open arms, and with copious amounts of wine and food. Xena and the gladiators were taken to the locked facility set aside for visiting warriors. Gabrielle and the other slaves were taken to Batiatus and Lucretia's bedchamber with instructions to remain there, and not to wander the villa. They were there only to serve the immediate needs of their master and mistress. The guards were housed in guest barracks.
The next morning at dawn all the gladiators were roused, fed, then sent into the arena for practice. It was twice the size of Batiatus' and was surrounded on three sides with walls that supported elevated seating for spectators. The fourth side had a similar balcony for Cicerius and his guests. While Xena and her four companions kept to themselves, Doctore talked with Skyrn, his counterpart, trying to discover just who Xena's opponent would be, but no one would say anything other than tomorrow was the day she would die on the blood-soaked sand.
Batiatus and Lucretia made an appearance near midday. With Cicerius was someone Batiatus didn't recognize. He was introduced as Otho. Batiatus only knew his name, and of his reputation as a very wealthy imperator who had powerful allies in Rome.
And after a satisfying midday meal Lucretia, Severa, Otho's very young wife, and Selena left to walk through the extensive gardens and talk of the latest gossip from Rome.
Cicerius, Otho and Batiatus went to observe the gladiators as they went through their practice routines. And despite his persistence, Batiatus could not get Cicerius to reveal Xena's opponent, nor even the opponents for the four he brought for the preliminary bouts. He couldn't help but noticed that Otho was strangely silent most of the day. As Cicerius gave them the grand tour of his brand new arena, Batiatus kept an eye out for any potential opponents, but none of Cicerius' gladiators seemed particularly threatening. If Otho had brought any competitors, Batiatus had no way of knowing who they were.
"And as you can see here," Cicerius was bragging as they walked the floor of the arena, "five hundred spectators is only a rough estimate. I'm sure we can accommodate twice that many if need be. And look there," he pointed at the balcony area reserved for the aristocracy, "Twice as much room as yours for seating guests, with entrances on both sides so the slaves can more quickly serve the wine and food."
"Yes," Batiatus replied, now becoming tired of Cicerius not-so-subtly pointing out the inadequacies of his own arena. "But tell me - this opponent of Xena's, I have seen no one who seems especially menacing."
"And the sand we walk on," Cicerius continued as if he hadn't heard, "imported especially from the lands of the Pharaoh - well known for its incredible property to soak up the blood that is inevitably spilled, then clumping into masses that are easy to rake, hastening the next contest."
The day passed quickly for Cicerius and his guests, but more slowly for the slaves, who did little but stand by, talking in low tones, and waiting in case Dominus or Domina required attention. Theirs was a long wait between the time Dominus and Domina arose at midday and retired just before midnight. Such was their excitement over the coming competition, mixed with their exhaustion from the journey, that Batiatus and Lucretia each used a slave to bring them both almost to orgasm before he mounted his wife. Fortunately for Gabrielle, Dominus chose Sateria, who was older, and knew exactly what he wanted and needed. Lucretia secretly wished for Barsis, but instead selected Hermes, known for his propensity for oral sex with an unusally long tongue.
But the day passed the slowest for the gladiators belonging to Batiatus. Their practice workouts were of the most generic kind, not wanting to show potential adversaries any of the tricks shown to them by Doctore or Xena. Even Xena laid back, resting, and wondering just who had Cicerius chosen for her.
The next morning the weather had changed from warm and balmy to cold enough one's breath could be seen. And again, the superstitious men took this as a sign that the cold hand of death was reaching down for them: someone, or possibly more than one, would die that day. And knowing that her adversary was likely to be horrific, many looked to Xena as the one to meet her fate. Some reveled in the thought, others were saddened that such a magnificent warrior's life was to end.
Of course Xena dismissed all such notions, unsuccessfully trying to explain it was just the weather. Winter wasn't so far off and Autumn temperatures always were unpredictable. But though he tried not to believe the talk, even Doctore was apprehensive.
As usual, the first matchup began just at midday. The four preliminary matches were mostly uneventful; exciting at times, but no one was seriously wounded, and as Batiatus had foreseen, the men Cicerius had chosen weren't up to the quality of his, and they lost. At first Batiatus was somewhat puzzled as to why Otho had no men to challenge his, until he realized he had to be the one who brought Xena's adversary, and was not just an invited spectator.
But the final contest was the one everyone was waiting for, and as the event drew closer, the wagering became more intense. The betting among the crowd was mostly even. Xena's reputation from her previous encounter swayed many of them, but the element of an unknown challenger who must be one who could win caused many of them to bet against her.
In the balcony, Batiatus wagered heavily on Xena despite slight misgivings about doing so against an unknown quantity. He knew Cicerius was no fool. And he also knew that Otho would not have come so far unless he thought his man could stand toe to toe with Xena and defeat her. Lucretia also was concerned, but as was her place, could only offer harmless advice and encouragement, hoping he wasn't exceeding his ability to pay off the wagers if Xena was defeated.
In the holding cell, Doctore was preparing Xena for her combat. Again, she wore only the loin cloth; no boots or sandals, and bare breasted. But instead of using her own blood for effect, she had Doctore procure a bucket of cow's blood from the local slaughterhouse. She realized any loss of her own blood could possibly weaken her just enough to put her at a disadvantage.
While random thoughts of Gabrielle ran through her mind, her opponent entered the arena from some unknown entrance, and the crowd erupted into a volcanic din. As he walked to the center of the sand, even Xena was awed, and felt a measure of fear.
He was the largest man she had ever seen, not counting Gareth, Goliath or the Cyclops she had blinded. He was fully half again as tall as she was, and could possibly stand eye to eye with a centaur. His bulk was at least three times that of a normal man. He didn't have the muscular definition of the strongest she had seen, but she knew he was stronger than any man, or any beast of his size. He was wearing an animal skin, it looked like bear, that crossed one shoulder and covered his lower half like a skirt. His left shoulder was bare, and he was exceedingly hairy all over.
The only armor he was wearing was from the knees down. It was obvious someone had passed the word about how Xena had disabled the man with the trident. He wore no helmet, but as tall as he was, who could reach his head? He carried a small shield in his left hand, obviously to protect his heart. But Xena knew that even someone as big as he was had more than one weakness. She was surprised that his weapon of choice was an oversized club, hewed from a tree trunk. It had a large bulbous head and tapered down to fit his enormous hand. It was then that Xena realized Gabrielle was right every opponent she faced was going to be bigger and stronger and deadlier than the one before.
As Xena was studying him, she suddenly heard a familiar name. And turning to Doctore she asked, "Did someone just say 'Hercules'?"
"It was Cicerius. He claims that your opponent, Gaulus the Destroyer, is the only mortal to have knocked Hercules unconscious."
Xena laughed out loud. Of course he never did that! It was just something to excite the crowd. But if he were to catch Hercules unaware, and from behind, and used his massive club, it just might be possible. He was certainly big enough, and possibly strong enough.
Then Xena heard her name called out - "Amazonia the Amazon Warrior!" And just before she entered the arena, she had Doctore dump the bucket of blood over her head, shoulders and the rest of her body, front and back, making sure none got into her eyes. And as she was supposed to do before, she ran into arena, twirling her twin swords over her head in figure eights, the bright sun glinting and sparkling off the blades, screaming out with a bloodthirsty war cry, leaving a bloody trail behind her. And again the crowd yelled out its approval.
She ran to the center of the sand, then circled around Gaulus, watching his eyes as he watched her with no movement of his head nor any discernible expression. It was like there was no intelligence in his eyes. She came to a stop, spun her swords and then stabbed them into the sand, then went to one knee in deference to Cicerius and his guests. Then, as she stood up, swords in hand, crossed over her head, blades in an X pattern, and ready to do battle, she saw Gabrielle. This time she was not off to the side, but standing next to Domina. Her hand went to her right ear and gave a nod for Xena to do what she had to do. But Xena was too far away and couldn't see the tears, and the terror, in her eyes.
A gong sounded, and Xena barely was able to backflip away from the massive club that was swinging through the empty space where she had been only a heartbeat ago; he definitely moved faster than his bulk would suggest. The sudden movements from both excited the crowd, but as Gaulus continued to chase after Xena and as she continued to dance away from his swinging club, she knew that soon the spectators would tire of this swatting-at-a-pesky-fly exhibition.
She decided to see just how tough the armor on his lower legs was, so instead of skipping away from him, on his next attempt to hit her, she made a diving roll that brought her near enough that she was able to take a hard swing at his Achilles Heel, and was rewarded with a dull double clank.
"Clever," she thought. "Two layers of armor. So much for that."
But her speculation distracted her attention just enough that when she was getting to her feet, Gaulus gave a mighty back-handed swipe with his shield, hitting her hard enough to throw her a dozen steps away, knocking the sword out of her left hand and leaving her face down in the sand, the breath partially knocked out of her. But she quickly rolled to her back in time to see the club come crashing down at her.
Xena barely had time to roll over again far enough that the club missed her and hit the sand. She was looking up at him, the sun in her eyes, so she tried using her sword to reflect the sun into his eyes. He blinked, then used the shield to block the brightness, but it also momentarily blocked her from his view, and as the club came crashing down again, she was already on her feet and away.
And for the first time she heard his growl of anger and frustration, and she smiled she had him now! She immediately hit at his shield and heard a loud metallic clang; it was solid iron. But when he swung at her again, she was out of range. She let him chase after her until they were close enough to one of the walls for her next move. And as he swung at her and missed yet again, she ran at the wall, jumped up to almost her own height, pushed off the wall with one foot and dived at him.
As she flew through the air with another war cry she took the sword in both hands and as she got close enough, she slammed it down on top of his head. And if he had been a normal man with a normal skull, the weapon would have split it in two, killing him. But instead it glanced down to one side, peeling his scalp down to his left ear. Screaming out in pain and anger, he put his left hand with the shield to his head, holding the flap of skin in place as blood ran down his arm to drip off his elbow.
"That's one hand I won't have to worry about," Xena said. "Now for the other."
As Gaulus continued to pursue her, Xena waited for her chance, and when it came, she forward-rolled past his armored legs, spun around as she got to one knee, behind him. And hoping the armor stopped at his knees, she drove the point of her sword through the bearskin garment into the back of his right thigh until she felt it hit bone, slicing through muscles and tendons. And again he roared out in pain.
He turned as quickly as he could but she wasn't there. Xena had back-rolled away and was on her feet. He chased after her for several steps until his right leg gave way and he fell to his knee, the head of his club in the sand for support. Xena immediately aimed at the hand that was holding the club and cut off several fingers.
Another bellow of pain resulted, but instead of losing his balance and falling onto his face as she expected, he rocked back on his knees and straightened up, putting them face to face. Xena took five quick steps backward, then ran at him and launched herself at him feet first, kicking him six or eight times in the face in rapid succession, and with a final double kick, back flipped to land within arm's length from him.
Dropping her sword, she then used the first two fingers of both hands to jab specific spots on his neck several times as fast as she could. And she watched as his eyes grew large as the muscles in his neck began to spasm, first closing down his two jugular veins, increasing the pressure in his head until blood began to run from his nostrils. And as he gagged and clawed at his neck, the spastic neck muscles began crushing down on the carotid arteries, cutting off the blood to his brain.
Xena, knowing he would be dead in twenty breaths or less, calmly bent down to retrieve her sword, then walked around behind him and with a mighty kick between his shoulder blades, put him face down in the sand. And with a horrific war cry, and again using both hands, brought the sword down and through his neck, decapitating him. She then picked up the head by the hair, showing it off to the crowd, who was strangely silent.
Xena carried the head high, with blood dripping from the neck, until she was twenty paces from the balcony. She stabbed her sword into the sand, and then jabbed the head down onto the handle of the sword, making sure it was tilted upward, the dead eyes looking at Cicerius.
And with both hands wide over her head, fists clinched, she screamed out, "THE HOUSE OF BATIATUS!"