Page 15 of House of Serpents and Slaves
I brought mine up, the blade at his throat before he could raise his to block me. He grinned.
"I'll take that as a yes."
He stepped back, forming a defensive stance and I went for him again, more conscious this time of my shoulder. We crossed blades once, then twice. Septimus swung at me, and I ducked, rewarding his slopping aim with a clout to the side of his head. If we'd been going at full force, I could have stunned him. As it was he merely shook his head and glared at me.
"Lucky shot," Septimus growled, rubbing the side of his head.
I smirked, twirling my sword.
"Luck had nothing to do with it. Maybe you're the one who needs more practice."
His eyes narrowed dangerously and he grinned.
"Oh, you're asking for it now."
He lunged forward with renewed vigor, his strikes coming faster and harder. I struggled to keep up, my arms trembling as I blocked blow after blow. Sweat stung my eyes, but I refused to back down.
"Come on, little girl," Septimus taunted. "Show me what you've got."
Gritting my teeth, I feinted left before pivoting right, aiming for his exposed flank. But Septimus was too quick. He sidestepped my attack and brought his sword down hard on my shoulder.
Pain exploded through my arm, and I stumbled back with a cry. My wooden sword clattered to the ground as I clutched my throbbing shoulder.
"Your progress has been remarkable," he said. "But there is still much to learn. Remember, the arena is not just about physical prowess; it's also a game of wits. And yours have always been just that little bit slow." He grinned down at me and I glared at him.
"Then I must sharpen my mind as well as my body," I said. "I need to get into the arena, Septimus. I don’t care what it takes. Maybe I should start a fight in the dining room?"
Septimus grinned. It had been how he had been noticed. He’d been a slave too for nine storms after we’d been bought by Drusus, and although he couldn’t stand me, he’d taken offence when one of the gladiators got very drunk and a bit too rough with me. It wasn't like I didn't know my place. I was there to be used by them as and when they liked, but they all knew thatwe were owned by Drusus and if we were recovering from harsh treatment, we couldn't work efficiently. This particular gladiator had been new, and hadn't known. He'd smacked me about a bit hard while fucking me over one of the dining tables, and Septimus had stepped in.
A fight had broken out between them, the slave and the gladiator, and the latter had ended up unconscious with two black eyes, a broken nose and shattered ribs. Septimus had been flogged for daring to attack a gladiator. Down six gladiators from the wasting sickness, Drusus had calculated his odds and a week later, when Septimus had recovered from his punishment, he'd been summoned to the arena and had begun his training.
"I wouldn't advise that. I don’t know why you still pursue this ridiculous dream, Livia. It’s going to get you killed. Stay where you are and stay safe.”
I laughed, as I followed him to return my weapon to the stand at the edge of the building, but it was hollow.
“Safe? I’ve been flogged twice this month already.”
“Because you can’t keep your smart mouth shut,” he snapped.
“And three weeks ago, Vizia died after one of Drusus’ investors decided to hit her so hard she blacked out and never woke up,” I retorted. I hadn’t liked the woman, but no one had deserved that.
“Every life has its risks,” muttered Septimus. “We’re slaves at the end of the day. But its still safer than going out into the arena and fighting for your life, Livia.”
“At least you get to fight for your life,” I argued. “You don’t have to just lie down and accept it.”
Septimus's face darkened.
"You think we have a choice out there? We're still slaves, Livia. We just die more spectacularly."
I shook my head, frustration boiling in my veins.
"At least you die on your feet, with a weapon in your hand. That's more than most of us get."
"Livia, listen to me. The arena isn't some grand adventure. It's brutal, it's merciless, and it breaks you down piece by piece. You don't understand what you're asking for."
I met his gaze, unflinching.
"I understand perfectly. It's you who doesn't get it, Septimus. I'd rather die on my feet than live on my knees. And one day, I'll prove to you and everyone else that I belong in that arena."
