Dragon's Tale 41 (Patreon)

Locked in the cage, there wasn’t anything I could do as the slavers gathered the camp before whipping the horses, and we started moving once more. Or more accurately, there were quite a few things I could have done, but those actions were more trouble than their worth, so I just lie on my back, enjoying the ride. Since I could easily escape whenever I want, there was no problem treating the cart as easy access to Rome, conveniently avoiding all patrols and other requirements. 

Even better, the trip itself wasn’t boring. I did have a delicious eye candy for me in my fellow slave. Theodora might be dressed in rags and dirtied in her most recent attempt to escape, but even the grime was unable to hide her beauty. She had luscious dark brown hair, somehow managing to shine under a thin layer of dust and dirt, and her skin was flawless other than a few small scrapes she acquired recently. She had a lovely face, and even while she wasn’t trying to look attractive, her lips were curled in an attractive pout, begging to be tasted. 

However, the most interesting thing was her eyes. Not their beauty —though they were plenty beautiful, reminding me of almonds both in shape and in color— but the way they shone with a sharp intelligence as she looked around, desperately looking for a chance to escape. I was impressed. For a girl with a noble upbringing, she was more unyielding than I expected. Even Lillian hadn’t been like that, and unlike Theodora, she had magic. Since Theodora hadn’t used any magic, it seemed that she was one of the unlucky ones without the spark of magic —or had come from one of the smaller cultures that didn’t allow women to learn magic. Unfortunately, I couldn’t recognize the accents of the eastern border enough to make an educated guess about her location. 

As the slaver caravan lined up for the passage, waiting for their turn, I was starting to get bored. Luckily, I had a conversation partner nearby. The only inconvenience was her guard, standing next to her, who no doubt would interject if I tried to talk with her. 

Luckily, I had the ability to bypass such small inconveniences. I pulled a sliver of my magic, letting it settle around both cages, isolating both mine and Theodora’s voice, before letting a thicker string of mana wrap around her guard, letting her fall asleep. Interestingly, when the sliver of magic connected to her guard, Theodora flinched in surprise before looking around in confusion. 

Interesting, I thought. Her ability to feel the spell told me that my second assumption was likely correct. She did have the potential for magic —a strong one if she could feel such a subtle piece of magic— but she clearly didn’t receive the proper training, which immediately made her an even more interesting conversation partner. 

I looked at Theodora, and she flinched when our eyes were connected. The guilt that shone in her eyes left no doubt about the source of her distress. “It seems that being a slave is a boring affair,” I said to her with a smile, mocking the situation as lightly as I could manage. 

“How can you not hate me?” Theodora countered immediately, her tone soft, displaying her kind heart. “It’s my fault that you lost your freedom.” 

I sighed. “We already talked about that, it’s just a coincidence. There was no way you could expect that, and even if you did, I’m not sure I could blame you. You’re just trying to escape from the same fate, after all. It’s justified.” 

“Yes,” she murmured. “But it seems that it would not do. Escaping at the mountains was my last hope. If I reached the mountains, I could have avoided their search parties. After the passage, we have the plains of Italy. With the density of the population there, it’s impossible to hide from them.” 

“That seems to be the case,” I said, though, as I listened, I was starting to feel suspicious for some reason. She was far too calm and collected to be a sheltered noble daughter, analyzing the situation coldly despite the distress she felt, which made my earlier assumption about her being a sheltered noble daughter into question. 

The mystery behind yet another noble was not a particularly compelling one. It might have a number of reasons, she might belong to a particularly large branch of the family, she might be a bastard, or she might be deliberately kept from learning magic to make sure the house inheritance passed without an issue, especially if her brothers were less talented than her. Normally, it was expected for the eldest son to inherit, and technically, daughters couldn’t inherit unless all sons were unable to inherit, but like everything, things blurred when the said daughter was several times stronger than the sons… 

However, the mystery behind her status might be boring, but locked in a cage, waiting for the line to move at a glacial pace, I didn’t have anything else to do. I decided to test her a bit. “So, what exactly awaits us in Rome?” I said, continuing to use the fake accent I had perfected while preparing for this travel. “They mentioned that someone named Ludus Dacicus is going to purchase me, apparently.” 

“Ludus Dacicus not a person, but a gladiator school. The slavers probably didn't even know the name of their contact, and using the name of the school to refer him,” she explained. “They are not exactly the smartest,” she said with clear disdain. Her attitude was rather dismissive, but considering they were about to sell her to the highest bidder like a cattle, I couldn’t begrudge her for that little insult. 

“They are not,” I agreed with her. “So, what exactly is that school?” I added, as my knowledge about the Colosseum of Rome was limited to snippets I had heard back in the school, where the noble students were discussing the tales about the great victories, however, considering the distance between Britannium and Rome, the trickling of news was hardly accurate in the first place, and the scraps I had heard was mostly useless. 

Especially since I never bothered to learn them, not expecting to find myself in Rome in any part of my life. 

“Ludus Dacicus, or the Dacian School is one of the gladiator schools based in Rome, and they are famous for their Gladiators from Thrace, especially Dacia, and they focus on using spears,” she explained immediately, perking up slightly. It was obvious that she was treating this as an opportunity to pay back. I knew that part despite my limited information about Rome, but I let her explain further, mostly to make her relax. ”More accurately, historically, it’s one of the four great gladiator schools, though, for the last century or so, they are in a great decline. The other three are Ludus Gallicus, the Gallic School, Ludus Matutinus, the Bestiaries School, and the greatest of the four, and the first real gladiator school, Ludus Magnus, the first true gladiator school, and the undisputed leader of the games.” 

“How interesting,” I murmured. “Do you know why the Dacian School is in decline?” I asked, interested to finally learn some new information. 

“It’s mostly because of the rivalry with the Gallic School. Ludus Magnus had always been the undisputed strongest of the four, and the Ludus Matutinus has their own special niche, training both the arena beasts, both magical and mundane, and training their gladiators to take down the wild animals,” she explained. “That made Gallic and Dacian Schools fight for the role of the second-best, turning their fights into a historical constant. However, the Dacian School had really suffered when one of the previous owners had tried to run as a Consul in the elections, and used the gladiators to intimidate some of his opponents. At first, things went well, considering the lack of military presence in Rome, but soon, his opponent allied with the Gallic school, and great bloodshed occurred.” 

“The people in charge shouldn’t be too enthusiastic about that,” I said, smirking. 

“They were not,” she said, stopping just a second to smile before she continued without prompting. “However, things took a dark turn for the Dacians when one of the senators had died after being stabbed with the sword of a Dacian Gladiator, and to make things worse, he died in the bounds of Pomerium, turning it into a truly unholy act.” 

I didn’t ask what a Pomerium was, because even a tribal warrior was expected to know that, due to the incredible consequences of daring to violate the official borders. Pomerium was the official border of a Roman city, and technically, Rome only truly existed in these borders. Anything else was simply the territory owned by the cities. And like anything Roman, it was shrouded by a thick layer of history, religion, and tradition. The most important part, however, neither weapons, nor the military presence, was allowed to step into the borders of Pomerium, on the pain of death. It was even greater for the city of Rome, as even the Generals were not allowed to step into the Pomerium without resigning. 

Yeah, killing anyone in the borders of Pomerium, especially with a sword, was not good. 

“I’m assuming things weren’t simply forgiven,” I commented. 

“No, they were not,” she said. “The Lictor guards of the Senate intervened, and joined the battle against the Dacian School. Many gladiators fell, and the Dacian School came close to extinction before they could prove that the Senator had been killed by someone else, and they were the scapegoats, but that only prevented their further loss. Their name was tarnished, and many of their experienced Gladiators fell in the purge. From there, they inevitably fell to the bottom of the great four, and they are struggling to maintain their position against the second-tier schools.” 

“Interesting,” I murmured. Not only the information, but the fact that Theodora had such detailed information about the events that happened in the background of Rome. That kind of political maneuvers was not the usual training material for anyone but the house heirs, and even then, only the really strong houses at the colonies or borders taught their heirs anything about Senate politics. “Are you a fan of the games?” I asked, curious whether her deep knowledge came from a particularly strong interest in the Gladiators. Her detailed information would make sense if she was a fan of the blood games.  

“Not particularly, no,” she said with a great distaste, before realizing her error. “I’m sorry, it’s not about you-” she tried to apologize before I cut her off with a wave of my hand. 

“Calm down. I’m not a gladiator yet, and even if I was, there’s no shame in disliking proud warriors dying like circus freaks for the entertainment of the masses.” 

“Right,” she said, nodding in approval. 

“So, is there anything else you can tell me about Rome?” I said. “Since it seems that I’m going to be living there for a foreseeable future, I would like to know more about it. To avoid insulting an influential person, if nothing else,” I added. 

“Of course,” she answered immediately, still driven by her need to compensate for my capture. “What do you want to know?” 

“Well, you can start by what’s expected from a gladiator other than the obvious,” I said, as it seemed to be the best way to open the discussion before I could nudge her toward the politics of the noble houses without alerting her further. 

She considered my question for a while. “The most dangerous part would be the invitations from the noble families, especially the Patrician families.” 

“Really?” I said, surprised. “Why would they invite a slave to their precious home?” I asked. “Wouldn’t they be afraid of it being dirtied by the presence of a barbarian?”  

A snort escaped her mouth. “You’re underestimating the popularity of a gladiator, especially the successful ones,” she said. “The famous gladiators could even be invited as a guest of honor for the important events, like the birthday of a Patrician, or the birth of a new son,” she explained, before her nose was twirled in distaste. “And the handsome ones like you are always invited as secret guests for the parties exclusive for ladies,” she added. 

“So, you think I’m handsome,” I cut in, watching as the blush covered her face while she spluttered, avoiding my gaze. I chuckled, even as I followed up with several questions about Rome, only to receive very detailed explanations for every single one of them, and the more she explained, the more a new plan started to shape in my mind. 

However, as she explained, the mystery of Theodora deepened. Why was the daughter of a border noble, unimportant enough to be captured by slavers, knew so much about the internal structure of Rome?