Page 58 of House of Serpents and Slaves
"Heard the same from a grain merchant," another replied, his voice thick with certainty. "Said they found three settlements like that last spring. No survivors to tell what happened. Just scorched earth and silence. Not even the scavenger birds would go near."
"That's their way, isn't it?" the third added. "They're not human. Demons, all of them. They don't just kill - they erase. Make it like you never existed at all. Even the half breeds..."
He trailed off suddenly, probably realising I was in hearing distance. I didn't react. That was something a human man could do, not a half breed like me. Turn on them, show anger at their insults, or gods forbid, violence, and I doubted Drusus would think twice about having me killed. Instead, I focused on my breathing, kept it steady.
My spoon had stopped moving. I made it start again, forced myself to take another mouthful of stew though it tasted like ashes now. These weren't even particularly cruel men - I'd seen them joke with other gladiators, share drinks after matches. But the hatred came as naturally to them as breathing.
My attention drifted to where Septimus sat with several other gladiators, their table slightly elevated on a platform at the far end of the hall. He was finishing his meal, which meant I'd need to approach him soon if I wanted to ask about Livia. Cato sat near him, and the thought of approaching them made my stomach clench, but I wanted to know if she was recovering.
Septimus stood, scraping back his chair. Now or never. I rose slowly, careful to keep my movements smooth, unthreatening. I walked toward their table with my eyes lowered, the way I'd learned. Stop far enough back to show respect. Wait to be acknowledged.
The conversation at their table died. I could feel their stares, the weight of their judgment. Septimus turned, his face unreadable. "The half-breed wants something," he said, loud enough for nearby tables to hear. "Well? Speak."
"I wanted to ask about Livia," I said, keeping my voice quiet, steady. "If she's improving."
"Gods, it speaks!" Cato called out, drawing laughs from the others. "Here I thought it just growled and snarled like the rest of its kind. You know, like the sounds they make when they're burning our villages?"
I kept my eyes on Septimus, pretending I hadn't heard. He was watching me with that cold, measuring look he gave opponents in the arena.
"Sweet little Livia?" Maro leaned forward, his grin sharp. "The one that doesn't know better than to sit with animals? Should've known you'd come sniffing around about her."
"She'll live," Septimus said flatly. "Back in training by week's end." He turned back to his wine, dismissing me.
"Careful, Maro," Cato said, standing now. "Wouldn't want to make it angry. Might go feral, like its father's people. Did you hear about that frontier garrison last month? Thirty soldiers, all with their throats torn out. Found Talfen teeth marks on the corpses." He circled closer. "That's what they do, isn't it? When they're not poisoning wells or stealing children? Just animals playing at being men."
"I just wanted to know if-"
"You just wanted?" Maro cut in. "Listen to it, acting like it has the right to want anything. Like it's one of us." He stepped closer,wine on his breath. "Like it has any right to even look at Livia. Maybe that's why it spends so much time watching her - waiting for a chance to drag her off into the dark?"
"It should be grateful we even let it eat in the same room," Cato added. "My father served in the Eastern campaigns. Said the kindest thing was to drown them at birth, like runts from a litter. Said you could always tell which ones would turn - they all do eventually. It's in their blood."
The other gladiators had gathered now, forming a loose circle. I could feel my heart pounding, the blood rushing in my ears. Stay calm. Stay civilized. But Maro was too close now, deliberately in my space.
"Tell us, beast," Cato pressed. "Does it burn in you? That Talfen blood? Do you dream about it - burning towns, ripping throats, hearing children scream? Is that why you can't sleep at night?" His voice dropped lower. "Or maybe that's why your mother spread her legs for a demon in the first place. Maybe she was just another beast herself-"
"Probably begged for it," Maro added with a laugh. "Everyone knows what Talfen do to women they catch. Maybe she-"
The roar that tore from my throat wasn't human. My vision went red as I lunged for him, all thoughts of civilization forgotten. Someone was screaming. Tables crashed. And somewhere deep inside, a voice whispered:See? This is what you really are.
My first blow caught Maro in the jaw - not a gladiator's practiced strike but something primal, meant to hurt. Blood and spittle sprayed as he stumbled back. Before I could follow through, Cato slammed into me from behind, driving me face-first into the table. Cups and bowls crashed to the floor.
"There it is!" Cato's laugh was ugly as he tried to pin me. "Show everyone what you really are, demon-spawn!"
I twisted, letting the animal part take over, the part that knew how to fight without rules or honor. Cato was stronger, but I was faster. I slipped his grasp and drove my elbow up, catching him under the chin. As he staggered, I hooked his leg and slammed my head back, feeling his nose crunch against my skull. He howled.
"Filthy half-breed fighting like a beast!" Someone grabbed my arm - I spun to find Maro, his face twisted with rage and fear. Behind him, Cato was on his hands and knees, blood streaming down his chin.
"Just like your father's people," Cato spat red. "No honor. No humanity. Nothing but-"
I cut him off with a kick to the ribs that sent him sprawling. The dining hall had erupted into chaos. Slaves scattered, benches overturned. I could hear shouts for the guards, but they seemed distant, unimportant. Part of me knew I should stop, knew what this would cost. But that part was drowning in the red haze, in the fury that had been building for years.
Maro swung. I caught his fist and yanked him forward, slamming my forehead into his nose. The crunch was satisfying in a way that made my stomach turn. He staggered back, hands clasped to his face, but Cato was up again, and others were moving in now.
"Kill it!" Cato was shouting, his face a mask of blood and hatred. "Put it down like the rabid dog it is!"
I backed away, lips pulled back from my teeth, watching them circle. My breath came in ragged gasps. The hollow feeling was gone, replaced by something hot and violent and terrifying. This was what they'd always seen in me. This was what I'd tried so hard to prove didn't exist.
"Come on then," I growled, tasting blood - mine or theirs, I couldn't tell. "Come see what a beast can do."
