Thread: Sacramentum Gladiatorum (Machiavelli & Andronica)

Livia tried not to put any thoughts toward her husband's new acquisition. The dark haired man fought like a caged animal and seemed always at the ready to lunge for anyone's throat, with a quiet sort of anger that was hard to detect. She was a bit frightened of him to be sure yet she also was... curious. Where did one find such a creature, thrown into the Abyss and pulled back a changed man? She never asked of the men and women her husband found in the market when they arrived in their service, aside from a few of the body slaves who she became close with. Their stories were often the same prisoners of war spared harsher masters in their homeland, women forced to repay debts of their male relatives, or the rare girl who was born a slave. Maximus's story, she suspected surely followed one of those sad veins, be it war or impoverishment or both. As the days passed, the redheaded domina heard many whispers from her slaves in the villa. The women did not venture into the ludus save for a small alcove between the two buildings used for storage. Yet a few foolish girls went to the cells, or lingered in the storage house long enough to catch a glimpse of the fabled dark haired creature, Maximus. He was known to be strong with thick cords of muscle and sinew forming a godly figure beneath taut bronze skin. His dismissive though fearsome glances sent many into a fearful scurry when he was passed, though some of the girls would whisk themselves away and giggle or squeal in delight. On more than one occasion she even caught her own Iona taking a liberal glance at Maximus, only to quickly avert her gaze upon being discovered. Four mornings proceeding Maximus' introduction to Cassian's wealthier friends, he left to go to Capua with them on business and would be gone for two days hence at least. Normally she revelled in her time without her fickle husband, who either showed her attention when inebriated and groping her without care of skill save his own pleasure, or he ignored her aside from the usual social niceties he had to grant his wife during their many parties or outings at the arena. Without Cassian's quick-to-anger presence looming over the balcony, the ludus seemed to have a more quiet and peaceful air that morning - if not for Maximus beating a poor new gladiator. This was not Lucius who could shake off the blows after visiting the medicus. This was a fresh faced lad, a stranger to battling for his life. Livia disagreed with the bloodsports yet it was her family's living, and all she could do was ensure there was no unnecessary cruelty borne upon the men before they died, or lived long enough to win freedom. Thwack. Thwack . A scuffle again and the boy's face was in the ground, likely tasting his own sweat in the fine sand and surely a bit of blood if the second blow of the practice sword struck true on his brow as the echo indicated. Livia had been standing idly by the balcony edge overseeing various small groups of fighters who were paired together at the doctore's command, either with a sparring partner or wooden target. What possessed doctore to send the boy to Maximus was beyond her, and before the beast could raise another blow and mock the boy, she peered down at him. Maximus, stop. Her command resonated over the din of wooden impacts. A few of the men paused in their routines to sneakily catch a glance at him, though a crack of doctore's whip set them straight. The scarred Carthaginian, sans one eye that had been plucked from his skull during his glory days in the arena, continued to shout orders at the training men while he made his rounds weaving between them. Though he walked toward Maximus and loomed nearby to ensure Maximus didn't strike again. Gaius, to the medius at once! she ordered the boy. Her tone was decisive and stern, though laced with concern as the boy peeled his face from the ground. Short blonde locks were coated in sand and a string of blood oozed from his nose, likely from having landed in a poor position on his face. He sniffed hard and stood up as quickly as his disoriented head would allow and went toward the medicus whose room was just below the balcony. Livia watched him go until he was out of sight, then turned with burning eyes upon Maximus. You are not here to take out your frustrations upon the others. There is no honour in beating him when he has already fallen, she stated with evident irritation at his cruelty. Perhaps she was worried this was why Cassian purchased him. Your life continues because you have been spared the mines. You are given food and shelter in exchange for laurels in the arena. Do not forget that. And do not raise your weapon to any of the men in jest. One day you could be fighting with him at your back, to find your only ally would see you dead just as readily as your opponent, Livia coldly reminded him. Her cheeks were a bit flushed from anger though it could easily be dismissed as the heat of the morning sun, or the honeyed wine she drank from in a polished cup. Now stop acting like an animal pr you will be caged like one, she concluded firmly. Livia cared little for how she chastised him in front of the others, whether it would bring him embarrassment or anger. She need only make an example of him to show that despite Cassian's absence, she was not going to tolerate his actions and revel in seeing one man beat the other to a bloody pulp, into someone new took the victor's place. It was not proper or right. She paused after speaking, her breathing even and controlled, while her eyes were surely trying to burn holes through him on the sands below. Livia looked toward the doctore then. Take Maximus to his cell. He is of no use here today, the domina ordered and brought a swift end to whatever semblance of routine he'd grown to know in the days since his purchase. Livia felt an odd sensation of adrenaline coursing through her body at that point. Never before did she had the opportunity or courage to speak out harshly. Liberal platitudes never poured from her mouth as they had in the previous moment but without Cassian's yoke on her shoulders that day, she found her voice. Shortly thereafter when things calmed down and resumed their usual pace, Livia left the balcony. The men were in the doctore's trusted hands to grow and hone themselves. It was his guidance she trusted best and her father often deferred to him to keep the men in line, yet his failure to act with Maximus that morning was not something she believed to be blindness to poor behaviours. Rather, a habit to hold his tongue and his whip as per Cassian's orders. Still, she was not like Cassian, and though she spoke harshly to Maximus in the morning, by the afternoon when the sun was past its mid-peak, she too cooled down. Livia decided it was best to go and visit the gladiator to prevent ill will forming from his dismissal at the training grounds. After all, it was behaviour Cassian would have rewarded, and surely sent to the boy to the mines or his cell for being soundly beaten. Guards nodded in respect at her going, the domina halted around the corner from Maximus' cell. A row of open barred rooms for the newer recruits led toward a more private wing of cells. These had small windows and wooden doors for privacy, where gladiators who proved themselves were able to have a small room to themselves alone, and even had a view overlooking the landscape of gold and green hills that stretched behind the villa. Iona was always a shadow in Livia's steps, but as the two women rounded the open cells to the expanse of private rooms, the domina stopped. I will proceed alone, she told Iona, whose face immediately fell in disbelief. Yet she knew better than to question Livia even though she worried for her safety. He was handsome, but wild too. As you wish, domina, Iona replied with a dip of her chin. Livia went on alone to the end of the hall. A guard posted at his door opened Maximus' cell door and announced her, The domina is here. Stand up, he told Maximus. Whether or not the man did so was of little concern to Livia, but either way she planned to speak with him, preferably in less harsh tones than before.