‘I’ve had everyone locked down.’ Titus’s voice was tired. He ran a hand across his sweating forehead. ‘No one gave much trouble,’ he went on. ‘The fight has been knocked out of them.’
‘Good, good.’ Balbus nodded. ‘What’s the damage?’
The older Roman sighed. ‘Three dead, sixteen in the infirmary with Quintus. A healthy brawl indeed, lanista.’
‘But it could have been much worse.’ Lucius Balbus was feeling much more himself after the initial shock of the riot had worn off. ‘The ringleaders?’
‘Lysandra and Sorina.’ Titus sat down. ‘Who else?’ The question was rhetorical. The trainer paused, and Balbus could tell he was about to receive some advice from the veteran. ‘ Lanista,’ Titus said at length. ‘I’ve noticed that the women have become separate from each other in a way that I’ve never seen before.’
‘Yes.’ Balbus decided to share his plans with him. ‘I know. I’ve allowed this to happen — in fact I positively encourage it to continue.’ He could tell that he had shocked Titus and took a moment to savour the reaction. Titus was a good man, but his self-perceived older and wiser head sometimes made him forget just who knew best. An excellent trainer he may be, but Lucius Balbus was lanista.
Titus cleared his throat. ‘Are you sure that’s wise? The situation can only worsen.’
Eros arrived with wine for the two men, and winked at Titus suggestively; Balbus had to suppress a grin. He knew that the trainer loathed the boy, whom he referred to as ‘that mincing catamite.’ He dismissed the slave, however, as he wanted Titus’s full attention. ‘Things are going to change around here,’ he said.
‘If we play this right, we could be stinking rich. All of us,’ he added meaningfully. ‘I’ve been approached by the governor to organise a spectacle. A spectacle the like of which has never been seen outside of Rome.’
‘I’ve heard that sort of claim before,’ Titus said, the jaded ‘voice of experience’ grating with Balbus somewhat.
‘Not like this.’ Balbus allowed himself to be smug. He went on to relate the details of his conversation with Frontinus and Aeschylus regarding the grand battle they had envisaged for Domitian’s birthday. When he was finished, he could see that Titus was suitably impressed. ‘This is why I have allowed the Greek and Roman women to form their faction around Lysandra. If she is to lead them in battle, it is good that they are gravitating towards her.’
‘But you’ve not told her of your plans yet?’ Titus grunted.
‘Not yet, but today’s little spat means I will have to hurry matters along. You all know that we’re expanding the ludus. My plan is to move the Greeks and the others to the new wing and let them train as one group there. I’ll be importing as many slaves as I can get my hands on — and that Frontinus’s money can buy — as quickly as I can.’
‘Makes sense,’ Titus agreed. ‘Who will be training this ‘army’ of Lysandra’s?’
Balbus grinned. ‘She will. But I’d imagine she’ll need some help, Titus. You’re the man they call the Centurion after all.
Look…’ He leaned forward. ‘You can help her… and by helping her, you’ll be helping me. When all this is over, you’ll have a huge reputation and you’ll be as rich as Croesus — the world will be at your feet. Everybody wins.’
‘Not everybody,’ Titus said. ‘There will be many dead after this, Balbus.’
Balbus thought that the sentiment had merit. But money bought toughness. In the end, arena fighters got killed, a fact he elucidated to the trainer. ‘That, Titus, is the name of the game.’
‘And in the meantime?’
‘In the meantime, it’s business as usual. I want Lysandra out there and fighting. I want maximum public exposure. Falco will have to work his balls off for the next two years.’ Balbus considered that the promoter would relish the prospect. ‘Keep the women segregated as much as possible, till I can move the Greeks to the new wing. Once they are out of here, things will return to normal.’
‘I’ll drink to that.’ Titus raised his cup.
XL
Lysandra’s respect for Lucius Balbus’s judgement increased when he told her of his plans. The lanista was correct in his assessment that she was the ideal person to lead and train an army. Now, she knew, Athene’s plan for her was revealed. All her training, her excellence in combat and her understanding of matters military had led her to this task.
Though excited, she had relayed the news calmly to her women and they had received it with an equanimity that was worthy of their association with her. Even Danae, who once had quailed at the prospect of blood, seemed inspired. The Athenian bore a livid scar from her encounter with Sorina and she burned for revenge.
‘Any chance to rid the earth of their filth is to be welcomed,’ she told Lysandra. ‘These barbarians grow arrogant in their success on the sands. It is for us to cull their number.’
Lysandra started at the comment. Before Eirianwen, she would have fully endorsed such a statement, yet now she could not bring herself to hate the barbarians merely because of their unfortunate birth. Perhaps Eirianwen was rare and speciaclass="underline" she was spawned of the most savage of tribes and yet there had been much beauty in her soul as well as in her body. But, she knew that to mention it would be bad for morale, and her duty to the women came before her personal considerations.
‘It is good that you are keen for the fight, Danae,’ she acknowledged with what she felt was convincing enthusiasm.
It was not only Danae who displayed an extra degree of confidence in her own abilities. After the confrontation in the dining area, the Hellene and Roman women were buoyed as a whole.
They assumed themselves correctly to be victors of the confrontation, despite barbarian claims to the contrary. The fact that Balbus had let it be known that Lysandra’s women, as they had now come to be known, were to be moved to the new wing re-enforced that view.
Yet, now that she was to command the women as an army, Lysandra kept a tight rein over them. She forbade conflict with the barbarians, ordering her women to stay well away from them.
They had proven themselves once and that was, in her view, enough. There was little to be gained by constant brawling and squabbling. She knew well that aside from the military training to come, each of her charges had to maintain their gladiatorial skills as there would be many returns to the arena before Balbus’s great spectacle.
As soon as the lanista had revealed his designs, Lysandra’s mind had begun to work. Though he probably did not realise it, Balbus was, in fact, emulating Gaius Marius. Marius had revitalised the Roman army, turning it into a motivated professional force. To train his men in close combat, the politician-general had recruited trainers from gladiatorial schools.
Lysandra considered that if she could train the current group of Hellene and Roman women to proficiency in marching, drill and tactics, they, in their turn, could pass this on to the untried slaves that Balbus would be drafting in ever increasing numbers.
As things stood, the combat skills of her core women were adequate, if nowhere near her own standard, but she was confident that this would be more than enough to turn her recruits into fearsome fighters.
She had to impress on them a sense of leadership, discipline and a degree tactical acumen. This was something of a challenge since, because of their inferior heritage, so few of the women could read. As it was, Lysandra was forced to request trained slaves from Balbus to assist her in teaching the less educated. Nevertheless, these women were Hellene or Roman, and most had an apti-tude and even enthusiasm for learning. Such things had been denied many of them and the possession of letters was a treasure beyond value to all.
Though the barbarians viewed these activities with increasing scorn Lysandra encouraged her women to rise above the jeers and insults. The barbarians, she told her fellows, did not know the value of such learning. It was not their way.