She forced herself to act. Unable to afford to be frozen by fear. She could not fall from that. She could not fall this day, period. Not as a slave, not when she had tasted freedom. Not while her brother’s warning words stayed burned in her mind.
The though of her brother lead to a flickering thought towards Agron and more importantly, his words. She had to be quick. She had to move with purpose. Giving a cry of her own, with a wild swing, she prayed for flesh. Prayed fro bone and blood. Yet just as she confessed to Vatis, desperation could be no contest. She caught neither flesh, bone, or blood. Leaving her gasping for breath when his heavy foot came barreling into her abdomen and bringing to her eyes flashes of bright lights.
She had never prayed for the death of another at her hands. Yes there were circumstances when she did so similar as it would have meant having and keeping her freedom. it was an innocent desire then, stemming from promises made in a time that seemed so far away.
Yes she killed the Roman. But it had been fast, a frenzy of self defense. Still, it was never this. This stranger, he had nothing to do with her. Never laid eyes until this day. Yet here she was, pitted against this man whose station was equally as pitiful as her own, praying for his life in exchange for hers. It was disgusting and while they cheered, they continued to fight. She continued to struggle to simple continue breathing and they enjoyed it, Her every second of pain….
Pg. 45 “The Rise and Fall of a Gladiatrix”
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