Gladiator

Even behind the thick wooden doors he could hear the chanting from the crowd.

Marcus Thaddeus inhaled deeply. He uttered a few words asking the Gods to be with him this day. The gates were opened and bright sunshine flooded the tunnel, temporarily blinding him. Regaining his vision, Marcus stepped out into the arena.

The stands of the amphitheatre were full. The games had been called following the death of a senior senator. Marcus had fought many times in smaller arenas but this event was far grander. Having been born of low class, Marcus had trained to be a gladiator for the excitement and fame and he’d done well. Although neither of the gladiators would be paid for the fight the victor would be celebrated. Fight well, or die well. It was the way of a gladiator.

Marcus pulled on his helmet. While limiting his range of vision, small eye holes also blocked out some of the strong light glaring from the sand beneath his feet. Carrying his large, heavy shield on one arm he held his short, razor sharp stabbing sword aloft in the other.

He assessed his opponent from the far end of the arena. A smaller man than Marcus, he would be no less skilled. Carrying a net in one hand, with which to entrap Marcus, the man also held a long trident.

As the two fighters were drawn together by the referee, Marcus considered his tactics. Being caught in the net could be fatal, but he had to still get close enough with his own weapons.

As the referee signalled for the fight to begin, the crowd came alive with a roar. The retiarius immediately swung his net towards Marcus but he ducked quickly, the net brushing his helmet. Quickly circling his foe, Marcus sought an opening, hoping to unbalance his opponent. His fellow gladiator stayed on his feet, continuing to swing his net in Marcus’ direction.

As he circled the arena Marcus tried to get closer to his foe. His opponent had the advantage of the longer trident, however. Suddenly the man changed tactic, throwing the net low and catching Marcus’ leg, causing him to stumble backwards onto the sand. The gladiator moved closer and thrust his trident towards Marcus’ chest. Marcus recovered just in time to block his opponent’s attack with his shield. Hurriedly untangling his feet Marcus rolled towards his opponent barrelling him to the floor. With his challenger landing heavily on his back, Marcus leapt on top and held his sword against his rival’s unguarded chest.

Staring up at the high-ranking officials in their opulent seating, Marcus awaited their decision. Thumbs up, his opponent would be spared. Thumbs down, he would be killed. When the decision came, Marcus plunged his sword deep into his opponent’s chest.

Marcus looked up and took in the cheers from the crowd. For all the adulation he knew how close he had just come to a defeat that would have ended his own life.

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This is my entry to the Fictioneers Conflict Prompt Contest.

I must give a big thank you to @tinypaleokitchen and all those at The Writer's Block for their help and support on this piece and others beforehand.

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