A Lion's Heart

Chapter 11

The day "it" happened was the worst day of her life.

It was as if she had fallen.

Fallen deep into a void of dark, lonely, inevitable pain. Then she rose again, covered in scars. Inward scars that haunt you, the scars that you try to ignore and forget. But how can one forget a death? Not just a death, but many. So many.

Life is like the burning flame of a candle, one second it's there, shining in the dead of night, and the next it's gone. The only thing reminding you that it was ever in existence is a thin trail of smoke, ever fading. Same thing with someone close, you know they were once there by the scars they leave.

A scar is something permanent, you can try to cover it, but no matter what it's still there.

It marks pain, and Leona was filled with it.

As she sat in the dark of her room, awaiting her next fight, she though about death. How easy it would be to die in the arena, she would no longer suffer from the scars that slowly destroyed her. The only thought that anchored her to reality was revenge. Revenge first, death second. She would not leave the world until her tribe were avenged. Not until he was avenged.

Then the man entered her thoughts, Amicus, the soldier now the gladiator.

What do soldiers have in common with gladiators? They were both told to kill. But they chose their life. Sure, some gladiators chose to live a life of senseless violence, but not all. Not her.

Question upon question invaded her mind as she sat there alone.

Eventually she fell asleep.

***

"The girl fights tomorrow."

Clemens heard those four words far too many times to count that day. Although excited to watch, the people knew a common slave girl could never beat her next opponent. It was physically impossible, so how did she win her last fight?

The slave girl was constantly in his thoughts. Probably because no one would shut up about her.

The girl who beat Decimus.

Even he, Clemens, could have never beaten a man of Decimus's build. Rumors had it that he gave up in the fight. Maybe tired of living and so decided to have the girl take the glory. It still made little sense.

There had been a small fight the day before. Two heavily bearded men fought clumsily. The taller one sliced the others throat with the roaring crowds approval. Clemens had watched two soldiers drag the losers body to the side to be tended to the slaves.

Clemens had been loading a cart full of bags of grain, but stopped as he was motioned by a soldier to follow him.

***

Leona wandered aimlessly around the halls. A fellow gladiator would occasionally walk pass, giving her a look of sympathy. Sympathy because everyone expected her to be killed.

She sat down against a wall, staring at her clasped hands.

Someone cleared their throat next to her, an action to let her know of their presence.

She didn't look to see who it was. "What?" Her voice held an angry tone. The type that would send most people scurrying.

She felt the wind change slightly and a quite thump as the person sat down a few feet away from her.

"Word is your next fight is tomorrow."

Amicus.

She turned to look at him in disdain.
"What's it to you?"

He shrugged looking at her with the sad eyes he had earlier.

They sat their in silence for a moment.

Leona broke the silence, "why are you here?"

"Is there something wrong with me talking to you?" He asked raising his eyebrow.

"Why are you talking to me? Why are even in this house?" She asked angrily this time.

"I'm here because they blame me for Claudius' death. I stood in the way of him killing you, and you killed him instead." He shrugged as if he was discussing the weather.

"But why!" Leona cried. "Why would you step in the way! I am nothing to you. Just a slave like all the rest, once you get tired of us, you kill us."

Amicus shrugged in return. His expression was impossible to read.

"Maybe I'm different." He said as he stood and left. Leona was left speechless.