[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
them they would even up the score in the arena. But the new students were safe
meat, and he made the most of his opportunities to harass them. Jubala had
crippled a couple of tiros when he had been sent into spar with them, so Corvu
only let him work against ones who could take it just those who were almost
ready for the arena. And even they were in awe of Jubala and impressed with
his magnificence.
All, that is, except this loner Casca.
But if Jubala watched Casca's progress with envy and hatred, Corvu watched
with approval... and greed. Corvu knew the real thing when he saw it, and
Casca had the makings of a great fighter. If Casca survived his first few
matches, perhaps he would become one of the big drawing cards, those who
fought only a few times a year for special occasions. The school's percentage
on a fighter like that, even if he were owned by someone else, would be
Page 53
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
substantial. After all, the school normally received twenty percent for
booking a fight, and with one like Casca he could get fifteen or twenty
thousand sesterces a match with no problem at all. For that matter, maybe
more, particularly if he could figure a way to get the public on Casca's side
and rooting for him.
The patrician Crespas had told Corvu that Casca had signed an agreement to
fight for three years. Even if he were set free, he would still have to live
up to that contract. So, at the worst, they had three years to work him, and
they could make a lot of money in three years. But, who knew? Casca might well
become one of the professionals who continued to fight in the arena as a way
of life. Once he got a taste of success, and the money, fame, and women
started coming to him, he wouldn't be too anxious to give it all up and go
back to being a nobody. Corvu had seen it happen many times. Once a man
received a little public acclamation and money he would be a rare bird indeed
to trade the dangers of the games for a life as farmer with squalling brats.
No. He had a good chance to make a very profitable deal on the former
legionary.
So Corvu took no chances. He worked Casca harder and harder, giving him no
break at all, constantly harassing, constantly training. He was determined
that Casca would be a winner. When they took the troupe on tour for several
fights in the provinces, Corvu had Casca do some of the warmups, fights with
dulled swords and not to the death. This was to give Casca a chance to get
over any stage fright he might have had otherwise. In addition, the games in
the provinces served to give the tiros a chance to work as a team and to watch
the professionals at their trade. Soon they would be ready for the games at
Rome. That was where the real money was...
Casca worked and hacked that damned post until he thought his arms were going
to break off. But if that weren't bad enough already, Corvu fastened strips of
lead wrapped in leather around his forearms to strengthen them, ten pounds to
each forearm. The first few days of working out with these left Casca with
spasms of shooting pain racing through his arms, neck, and shoulders. But
after a week the pain was gone, and the weights felt natural. When he took
them off, it felt as though his fists could fly, they were so light.
Crespas came to several of the small fights in the outlying towns to watch.
Pleased with Casca's progress, he queried Corvu on when the slave would be
ready for the big time.
"Soon, lord. Soon. A few more of these warm-ups, and he will be ready for a
main event. You picked a good one there. Would you consider selling him?"
Crespas shook his head. "Not just yet. But speak to me after he has had a
couple of fights. Then I mtalaky have a better idea as to his real value. We
can talkk more then."
Jubala watched the treatment Casca was receiving with growing envy and
deepening hatred. Once he, too, had received the same attention. Now he knew
that Casca was being groomed for high things, and it ate at his soul. He had
received the same grooming and had failed to reach the heights where he could
spit on all these puny pale-skinned jackals who had dared to treat him as an
animal. If this one did...
Like a beast of the desert or jungle, Jubala watched and waited. Patience was
a necessary virtue for survival in his tribal lands. He waited and prepared.
He made sacrifice to his gods, those terrible beings of the night and the
jungle. Two days before, when he had been permitted to go out on the town, he
had cornered a young blonde prostitute of no more than fourteen years.
He felt a shiver of pleasure run over him as he relived the moment when after
he had taken his pleasure of her and she lay at his feet whimpering and
bleeding she had looked up through tear streaked eyes and asked for the
denarius he had promised. Jubala felt a sexual thrill run over him as he
remembered picking her up from the floor of her dingy room by the Tiber and
covering her mouth with his hand while he took his knife and slowly slid it
Page 54
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
into her stomach, savoring her pain and death spasms as he drew the blade up
slowly, ever so slowly, her back arching so that her intestines spilled out on
the floor. He sacrificed to his gods, and in the ritual of his people he had
ripped out her still-beating heart and eaten it while she still trembled...
Good, he thought, good. And, Roman dog. before our time is through I will eat
your heart, ..... even , after killing you, Iveds .....
Today he had bumped Casca while in the food line, but instead of Casca backing
away, he had jabbed his elbow in Jubala's solar plexus with a force that had
almost knocked the black man down. He would have responded immediately, but he
was out of breath from the blow. Casca had merely. said, "Sorry about that,"
and gone on as if nothing had happened. If Jubala's face hadn't been so black,
Casca would have been pleased to see the rush of blood to it as Jubala fought
to contain his rage. But there was nothing to be done about it at the moment;
Corvu had just come in and was watching.
Neither could know that Corvu had mused:
Those two are going to kill each other off one day. I had better keep them
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]