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***Bart***
Finally arrived, I thought tiredly.
I was packed in a wagon with other people with almost no room to move. It was hot, and the small barred window didn’t let in enough air. It’s still better than being moved in winter, though.
I was quite fit for my age, but after staying still for a long time I could feel aches all over. Especially if I didn’t even have the space to stretch properly.
These manacles are also so bothersome, I thought as I heard someone approaching the door.
After hearing the heavy lock turning, the door opened, letting in the cooler air of the evening.
“Come down,” said one of the guards of the convoy.
We had been traveling for months to reach here from Thornbridge; all to refill the number of gladiators in the capital’s arena.
I had been a gladiator for a few years in Thornbridge after my capture, but they routinely sent veterans to the capital, since the money they got paid for our performance was much higher here. New slaves to be trained could be easily found anyway.
The place, anyway, wasn’t much different from the old gladiator school I came from — just bigger.
Life then began the old routine of training and fighting in the arena. The fights were bloody and often deadly if you weren’t careful, but I wasn’t a young hotblooded man like I once was, and if I displayed a satisfying fight and surrendered at an opportune time I had high chances of being spared — that’s how I survived until now.
Of course, one had to have the ability to make the fight interesting enough for the audience — fortunately, though, I had a high enough level and a sufficient amount of skill.
We only had some time to socialize on the small breaks during training or during mealtime. It was much more crowded during mealtime since a few groups ate together alternately. It was also where we could have some relative freedom, and it was usually quite loud.
Other than socializing, I often occupied that time searching for new faces in other groups — they were almost the only source of news from the outside.
Well, now that the war is about to end, and I’m so far from the frontline, it’s useless to search anymore, I thought with mixed emotions.
I frankly didn’t have enough attachment to life to keep going, and I certainly wasn’t looking forward to being a spectacle for the damned nobles of this kingdom, but I kept going, hoping and dreading at the same time to hear some news about my grandson and daughter-in-law.
He was already sixteen years old when I left, and my son died in the war when he was young. When another notice for a draft came, the Duchy was desperate enough to call every possible man to war. There were two of us in the family — one young and one old.
The choice was obvious, though it took some time to convince the hotblooded kid. I was already old, and I couldn’t take care of his mother for long if something happened to him, so with this argument he relented. I still remembered his sullen face the day I left; I didn’t see or hear from them again after that.
And now I probably never will.
It was probably for the best.
I kept going with my life, not really caring anymore when I would die.
Time passed, and one day, a few months later, I saw a kid among the gladiators having a meal — a curious sight.
I asked the lanista in charge of my group when I found an opportunity. They were required by contract to treat us in a certain way, but they were all former gladiators, so they weren’t averse to speaking with us if you knew how to go about it.
“Nasty story. He’s one of the survivors of a sick experiment of a noble,” he responded with a disgusted expression, “It was in a smaller city, near the war front. He bought a lot of kids, distributed them to the gladiators schools in his city, and after a year of training he started making them fight against goblins in the arena.”
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I felt my stomach turning.
“I have no idea what passed through the guy’s mind, but it wasn’t taken well by the public. Thankfully, most people won’t enjoy that kind of sick thing — even nobles. Goblins have a nasty way to kill.” He shook his head. “Well, I heard he was stopped soon after, and he sold away all the remaining kids. The one you saw, Silvester is the name I think, was sold here since he claimed he was showing potential. He’s twelve. He cost quite a lot, I heard.”
I almost wished I didn’t know. This kingdom is rotten to the core.
I thanked the lanista and went on with my day.
Afterward, I couldn’t help but look for the kid every time we had a meal. He always ate alone.
I saw a few trying to talk to him, but he ignored everyone or sent them away. He just sat there eating with a sullen expression in silence. I couldn’t help but feel pity for him.
One day I decided to approach him.
“Hey there, little one!” I greeted him with a smile, seating myself in front of him.
He looked up from his plate with his usual frown, then said, “Leave me alone.”
He then ignored me and looked down to keep eating.
“You’re called Silvester, right? My name is Bart, nice to meet you.” I introduced myself.
He didn’t answer.
“Ok, let’s eat in silence. Silence is nice too sometimes,” I said, shrugging.
We then finished our meal in silence.
“See you again, kid!” I said after he left. He didn’t answer.
That didn’t go well, I thought. Well, I can try again next time.
It really bothered me to see a kid like this. Maybe he reminded me of my own grandson.
After that, when our group meal coincided, I always sat next to him and tried to have him talk.
“Oh, come on, kid! You shouldn’t show such a grumpy face, you should enjoy life while you can!” I tried one day.
He glared at me for a moment but didn’t say anything. He ate in silence.
“Well, yes, I know it’s not exactly fun here, but if you keep pouting like that it just makes things worse. You’ll also ruin your face!” I tried to make a funny face when he looked up.
“You’re ugly, old man,” was all he said before resuming his meal.
Oh-oh! We’re getting there!
“Bah, I’ll let you know that my wife always praised my looks. Even my daughter-in-law said I aged well!” I said to him, feigning indignation.
“Besides, look at these muscles,” I said flexing my biceps, “You won’t find an old man as fit as me anywhere!”
He snorted.
Good, we’re progressing!
It was slow, but I had patience.
After that, some more time passed.
Some days he was more sullen than others but, generally, I got a response now when I talked to him.
I also noticed that, like all boys, he really liked hearing stories about adventures.
“It may be hard to tell now, kid, but I was really hotheaded when I was around your age. I always detested staying at the farm, I wanted an adventure! I didn’t want to keep battling with roosters when I went to fetch eggs, I wanted a real battle!” I said, raising my spoon and mimicking a swordfight, which brought out a smile from him. “So when I was fourteen instead of choosing Farmer or another boring job Class I chose to be a Warrior and ran away from home.”
I was really such a hotheaded dreamer.
“Well, I lasted around five years before coming back. I realized I wasn’t made for a wandering life.” After that, I came back and started a family in my village and took up a post as a guard. My father welcomed me back, but it took many years before my older brother forgave me.
“But! I never regretted it! If you travel around, you’ll see so many things you can’t imagine. For example, I was once in this city where a few days a year all people walked around wearing masks. For real!”
I told him many stories, both mine and those I heard from others. He always listened raptly until the end.
I didn’t know if it was a good thing or not to make him dream of the outside, but at least in those moments he forgot this place and, I believe, he enjoyed himself. I did too; It was a nice distraction.
After around a year we got much closer, and he started to talk about his days, giving some rare smile sometimes.
He especially enjoyed telling me about his fights.
“Old man Bart!” He greeted me one day. “I was able to hit my lanista today!”
He was really excited, it seems.
“It’s the first time! I know he was going easy on me, but I did it! I noticed that when he does an upward swing like this,” he mimicked how he swung, “He always lowers his sword tip slightly. I wasn’t sure if he did it on purpose, but I didn’t think so. So, when he swung, I moved my sword where I thought his hand would be passing, and I hit him!”
It wasn’t the first time I heard of his observations, but I didn’t pay much attention to them. He was a kid, after all, it was possible he just imagined things. If it worked, though, it was another story.
“For real? Great!” I praised.
He really is a genius.
The more time passed, the more I heard such comments.
He will become a great fighter one day. Maybe one of the best. That was the thought that came to me one day, after hearing one of his exploits.
There were also not-so-nice things that happened.
“Yesterday, that Velin guy insulted me again. I ignored him, but it wasn’t the first time. He also glares at me every time he sees me. I don’t understand what’s his problem,” he said one day.
I knew that boy. A sixteen-year-old noble kid. He came here not long after his Class selection, and he had a nasty temper. He also wasn't adapting well to life here.
“I’ll see if I can do something about it, kid,” I told him.
I hope he won’t cause any problems.
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