Chapter Eight
The Games
The morning of the Games began cold, foggy and dreary, not a good sign to many, so superstitious were they. But it made no difference to Xena, weather never was much of a concern to her. It was what it was, and she had no illusions that it was controlled by the gods, other than the lightning bolts of Zeus, and even then, she knew his were not the same as in thunder storms.
Doctore had chosen a half dozen of his best for the preliminary contests. By agreement between the House of Batiatus and the House of Cicerius, they were not be to the death even though iron and bronze weapons would be used. Too much money and time had been invested in purchasing and training the combatants. Of course, accidents happened. Also, if one of them proved too cowardly or too inept, his death was acceptable to both Batiatus and to Cicerius.
This was not the case for Xena and her opponent. Many gold Aureus coins, each worth twenty five silver denarius, were wagered on the outcome, such was the rivalry, and the confidence of both men in his champion.
The Games began at midday, the morning being set aside for the late breakfast feasting for Batiatus' household and his guests who had arrived the previous night. By the time the first contest started they had consumed many goblets of Batiatus' finest wine, saved for occasions such as this. Consequently, the enthusiasm, and the wagering, was loud and boisterous.
No one was handed his weapon until let out of the holding cell when it was his turn in the arena. And upon the conclusion, it was returned to a guard as he passed through the locked gate leading back to the dining area where his wounds were treated by the physician. The holding cell was situated so they were able to watch the contests, to cheer on their compatriots, and to make their own wagers of food, or sexual favors.
But Xena hung back to allow Doctore to decorate her. Her face had black paint around her eyes and then encircled with red. Black and red streaks were painted on her back running from her neck to her waist. Her breasts were encircled with red, and red was applied to her nipples to make them stand out from a distance. A red streak ran from the base of her neck, between her breasts, to end at her pubic area, with red stripes representing ribs radiating out from it that continued around her torso to meet at her spine.
But she wasn't completely naked. A loin cloth was worn just high enough that her buttocks held it from falling off, and the back of it was brought up between her thighs and fastened in front with a copper clasp. And she would fight barefooted.
Looking down at herself, Xena could only mentally shake her head at the ridiculousness of it, but protesting would get her nothing but grief from Doctore, and she needed to stay in his good graces. But she had a plan. She knew the red represented blood, and if it was blood they wanted, blood they would have.
She was only mildly interested in the outcomes of the contests. And so far it was even, three of Cicerius' fighters had triumphed, as had three of Batiatus'. And even though blood had been spilt, no one was seriously injured enough that his ability to fight again was ended.
And then it was Xena's turn. She was let out of the holding cell, and was surprised that Doctore was beside her. The guard handed her the swords and she spun them slowly to feel the balance and weight of them. Doctore knew what he was doing - they felt almost the same as her practice ones.
And she waited until her opponent was introduced. He was a big man, as tall as Doctore, but heavily muscled. The sword he was carrying was much longer and heavier than hers, and his shield was twice the size of the practice ones she used. Its outer edge was covered with bronze, and there was an iron cone in the center sticking out the length of a man's hand. He wore an iron helmet with fabric made of small iron rings linked that covered his head, neck, upper chest and back. Xena knew she had her work cut out for her.
She started forward a step, expecting her name to be called, but Doctore stopped her. And then a second opponent walked to the center of the arena.
"There are three of us against the other?" she asked.
"No. It is two against you."
Xena's other foe was wearing the same links fabric and helmet as the first, but instead of sword and shield, he was wielding a form of trident and a net. The trident was made from a single piece of flat iron, split into five prongs and spread out like fingers of a hand, each prong sharpened to a razor's edge. She noticed there were no barbs on the end, allowing him to stab repeatedly without having to struggle to pull it from her body. On closer inspection, she realized the net had barbed hooks fastened all over it. Once she was caught with them, the only way to escape was with them ripping out of her flesh where they had hooked into her.
Xena looked up at Doctore as her name, "Amazonia, the Amazon Warrior!" was called. He didn't meet her eyes, and she entered the arena.
Her instructions were to enter the arena running, with the swords spinning and singing, but instead, she walked determinedly, dragged the swords behind her, leaving ruts in the sand, until she was near the center, her back to the balcony. Then with a loud war cry, she whirled around, swinging the blades twice, spinning her hold on them so she was able to stab them into the ground as one would a pair of daggers. She then went to one knee in deference to Batiatus and Cicerius, but only for a moment.
With another war cry she pulled the swords from the sand and crossed them in front of her, and with one quick swipe, sliced the outside of each arm - deep enough to bring forth blood, but not enough to do any real harm. Then with another double stab into the ground, she crossed her arms, filling her hands with her own blood, then wiped her face from forehead to chin with her fingers, leaving bloody trails. With the blood still pouring from her arms, she filled her hands again, and rubbed them over her upper chest and breasts. And one more time on her belly down to where the waist of the loincloth was.
She wiped her hands quickly on the loin cloth, leaving just enough sticky blood to give her a good grip on the sword handles, then grabbing them, she spun them twice, then threw her arms wide over her head, the tips of the swords crossed, forming a diamond, and erupted with another victory war cry. And the spectators on the balcony, always appreciating different and exciting spectacles, erupted with a roar of enthusiastic approval. Everyone was on their feet, yelling and applauding, including Batiatus, Lucretia, Cicerius, his wife Selena, and all the invited relatives and friends. Even the slaves in attendance were stirred.
Xena regarded them in triumph, as if the contest was already over, and then she saw her -- off to one side was Gabrielle! Even at this distance their eyes locked. Gabrielle, shocked at Xena's appearance and performance, slowly put her right hand up to give her earlobe a gentle tug - a coded gesture between them, telling Xena she was alright. If she had pulled on the left, it meant danger or a threat of some kind. So Xena, relieved her soul mate was in no immediate distress, let her eyes travel back along the balcony at Batiatus and the three rows of guests he had invited.
Looking at them all, Xena began to fanaticize.
She had her Chakram, and with one well-placed throw, it ricocheted off the stone wall, then quickly and efficiently cut the heads from everyone who was not a slave. And at the same time, Gabrielle was able to wrest a spear from a dying guard and together they....
Suddenly, Xena was jerked back to reality as she heard Batiatus yell out above the crowd, "Let the contest begin!"
Seeing movement from both sides of her, Xena began spinning the swords over her head to keep both men at a distance. As they circled her, she moved in concert with them, making sure neither would be able to attack without her knowing. As they danced, the sun broke through the clouds and it glinted brightly off her whirling blades, and she smiled. Maybe the gods, whoever they might be, were on her side. Momentarily the thought of Ares ran through her thoughts, then she dismissed it - it wasn't his style; it wasn't flashy enough.
As they circled around, Xena watched both warily, trying to decide who was the more dangerous of the pair, and she decided it was the one with the massive shield and oversized sword. So she moved in his direction, hit his shield with a quick blow, then dived and rolled toward the one with the five-pronged trident, rolling under the spinning net, and with the tip of one sword, slashed an ankle, cutting to the bone and bringing him to one knee. At the same time she wrapped the net around her other sword, not worrying about the trident, and jerked it from his hand.
The other gladiator charged, swinging the heavy blade in an X motion, but Xena was able to roll out of the way. And coming to her feet, she stabbed her free sword into the ground, and was able to unfurl the net and threw it at him. He blocked it with his shield, but when he tried to throw it off several of the many hooks caught into the small metal circles, causing the entire fabric of links to become twisted around, almost dislodging his helmet.
But the other gladiator had gotten to his feet and attacked Xena with his trident, catching her in the back with two of the outer prongs into and through her side, the tips emerging from the front. Momentarily stunned, she wasn't able to stop him from pulling it out and stabbing at her a second time, but she was just able to turn just in time and with a hard backhand spin, her sword cut through the links and buried itself halfway into his neck, and as she continued spinning, slicing almost completely through his neck, he fell to the sand, blood pouring out as he died.
By now the other gladiator had thrown off his helmet and threw away his net-entangled shield and links fabric, and attacked with only his sword, swinging and flailing it as he ran at Xena. Again she rolled away, but as she tried to get to her feet, he was there and his sword came crashing down so hard it broke hers in half as she tried to deflect it. She wasn't hit, but it drove her to the ground onto her back, and as she fell, the fingers of her left hand felt the handle of the trident. He raised his sword again, held in both hands, to bring it down in a killing blow. But as it was at the apex, she turned her broken sword slightly, flashing sunlight off it, blinding him just long enough that she was able to grab the handle of the trident as she got to one knee and thrust it upward with all five prongs spearing him completely through his neck as far as they would go. But as the slippery blood ran down the handle, Xena had to drop her second sword to use both hands to hold onto it to keep it embedded.
The gladiator dropped his own sword as he grabbed the base of the weapon, trying to pull it out, but Xena kept the pressure on it, fighting against the huge man's strength until he was too weak to stand and his knees gave out. Xena stepped back and let go of the wooden handle, which snapped into several pieces as he fell face down into the sand, the life gone from his body.
Xena then scooped up both swords and turned to face the crowd. Blood was pouring out of her wounded side, running down her leg to make a blood-colored stain in the sand where she stood. But she felt no pain, only the exhilaration that comes from completely destroying your enemy; the exhilaration she, for so long, had not experienced. And with one good sword and one broken one, she again raised her arms high and wide, this time crossing them half way down. And locking eyes with Dominus, she screamed out above the riotous noise of the spectators, "THE HOUSE OF BATIATUS!"
And even louder, everyone on the balcony roared their approval, even Cicerius, who had just seen his two best warriors killed in record time, and had also just lost five hundred gold coins. Everyone was cheering but Gabrielle, thankful that Xena had prevailed, but at the same time, shocked and disturbed at the savage brutality she had just witnessed from her friend, her lover, her soul mate.