‘You fought well,’ Lysandra acknowledged, unlacing her manica.
‘Too easy,’ Danae said. ‘I had to carry the bitch.’
‘True enough,’ Thebe broke in. She had not fought yet that day and was in good spirits. Their opposition looked easy and that meant in all probability that they would come out of the spectacle alive.
‘That is the result of your training,’ Lysandra reminded them.
‘You are learning the Spartan ways and this is an improvement over anything you have been taught thus far.’
Danae refrained from comment but Thebe winked at her when Lysandra was not looking.
‘How are you feeling?’ Stick sauntered into the Hellene women’s cell.
‘I am quite well, and ready for my bout,’ Lysandra informed him, tossing Danae’s manica at him.
‘Not you.’ Stick snagged the piece from the air, and tossed it back immediately. ‘Danae.’
‘I’m fine, Stick,’ she replied. ‘The bout was easy.’
‘Good.’ Stick gave her his buck-toothed grin. ‘You are fighting again.’
Danae was taken aback. ‘Why?’ she said. Though her bout had gone smoothly no one wished to risk her life twice in the same day.
‘The crowd is getting restless. This other ludus is in the shit because they’ve brought novices and thrown them in against you lot. Anyone with an eye for the fight could see that you carried that useless trollop all the way through. It wasn’t as bad as Sorina’s showing, but…’ he trailed off.
‘When?’ This from Lysandra.
‘Later,’ Stick said. ‘There’s no easy way to tell you this, so I’m just going to come out with it. Frontinus has decreed that the other school is voided from the games. That means it’s just our ludus providing the fighters from now on.’
There was a collective gasp from the Hellene women. Almost instinctively, Danae took a step away from Lysandra. They all knew what this meant. If the lots came out badly, the two could end up facing each other.
‘The governor has rescinded some pardons due to be given to the local criminals,’ Stick went on. ‘He’s having them fight each other now, by way of an apology to the spectators for the shit they’ve seen so far. This is while we work out the new schedule.’
The women looked helplessly at each other, even Lysandra seemed taken aback.
‘These things happen,’ Stick said shortly. ‘I expect you to be professional about it.’
‘But, Stick…’ Thebe broke in.
‘No buts. There’s nothing we can do.’ He hesitated for a moment.
‘I’m sorry.’ The shock was that the women could see he meant it. He said no more — just turned on his heel and left.
The silence was heavy in his wake.
XLI
‘An excellent solution,’ Frontinus said, saluting Balbus with his wine goblet.
Balbus inclined his head in acknowledgement. ‘I thank you, Your Excellence. Business partners they may be, but the lanista knew that he could not overstep the boundaries between them.
‘The other lanista was not put out by your suggestion?’
‘No, sir, he was not.’ Balbus smiled. ‘Positively enthusiastic in fact. Yes, I gain his purse for this spectacle, but he stood to lose much more in facing my troupe. It would have been a fiasco.’
‘But you also stand to lose out, is that not so? If your best are killed by each other?’ Frontinus’s gaze was hard.
‘That is true,’ Balbus acquiesced. ‘But it is my hope that they will fight well enough to gain the missio from you.’
The governor fixed him with a withering stare. ‘I hope you are not suggesting that our plans for the future will influence my vote in this matter.’
Balbus flushed. This had been precisely his hope. However, he cleared his throat and steeled himself. ‘All business is risk,’ he said.
‘I have a reputation to maintain and cannot deprive the loyal spectators, and yourself, of the entertainment they desire. There are many good fighters in my school, sir. If I lose some, it is the will of the gods. I am shocked that you think I’d expect you to be anything other than honest in your voting,’ he added.
This seemed to placate the governor. ‘I should hope not. Who is Lysandra to fight?’
Balbus spread his hands. ‘I don’t know,’ he answered truthfully.
‘I am an honest man, my lord. The lots will be drawn and she will fight whom the gods decree.’
‘She will win,’ Frontinus declared confidently. ‘How does her ‘army’ progress?’
‘Well, sir. She is training her coterie at the moment, and I am having the ludus expanded to house our new ‘recruits’. Once her own women are sufficiently trained, she will have a chain of command, as she calls it. Her women will pass the skills on to our new slaves.’
‘Just like a real army.’ Frontinus beamed.
‘She is taking it all very seriously,’ Balbus said. ‘There is good news on the market, too. Falco, my promoter, has been working hard. Many lanista’s have bought into your excellent idea, so there will be no shortage of women for the grand battle.’
‘A bloodbath.’ Frontinus nodded. ‘The Emperor will love it.’
‘As will the populace. I salute you, sir. The idea was genius.’
‘My thanks, lanista. I hope you will stay with me for the entertainments.’
‘I would be honoured.’ Balbus smiled, silently praying that all would go well that afternoon. The spectre of Lysandra lying dead on the sand haunted him.
No one had spoken since Stick’s announcement. The Hellene women kept their gazes fixed to the floor. Thebe had helped prepare Lysandra; she was to fight again as the Thraex — the Thracian — nude save for her loincloth. Every effort was going into placating the crowd and, though she had been scheduled to fight in heavy armour, it was decided that the sight of her naked flesh would salve the rancour of the mob. Thebe, they learned, was to fight as the retiaria, again unclothed bar the subligaculum.
They oiled one another in silence, each avoiding the gaze of the other. This task complete, there was little to do but sit and wait. They could hear above that the crowd had quietened down, meaning that the criminal bouts had come to an end. It would be their turn soon.
Lysandra had been shocked initially. The thought of turning her blade on her friends was anathema to her. It was not the Spartan way to slay one’s allies. But it was not the Spartan way to lose a battle, either. She could not, she knew, stay her hand or hold back. She was sure this had occurred to the other women, but just as quickly would have been dismissed. Lysandra pressed her lips into a thin line, recalling her admonishment to Eirianwen not to stay her hand before the bout with Sorina. She cursed herself silently; it would not do to think of her now, lest she wished to join her in Hades. Part of her may have once wanted to do so, but to go willingly to her death would cheapen her in Eirianwen’s eyes if they were to meet on the other side of the Styx.
She glanced around at the others. Despite their growing closeness, the camaraderie gained both in the ludus and in their military training they were going through, each of them wanted to live. And the only way to ensure survival was to see your opponent dead.
Your enemy, Lysandra corrected herself. The woman she faced on the sands would be her enemy. Enemies could expect no mercy, no quarter. If she must cut Danae down, or kill Thebe, then she would do it.
‘Lysandra!’
She looked up to see the large form of Catuvolcos framed in the doorway. His face was grim as he looked at her. She got to her feet swiftly. The psyche was a weapon also. If she were to fight another Hellene woman, they would see that she was prepared.
To hesitate might show her to be unwilling. The first battle was already won, she told herself. But in this victory, she could not help but feel cheapened despite herself.