3 Chapter III: Vulcanalia

"Spartacus! you've been summoned." A guard called out

I yawn as I leave my light sleep behind. I look around to the men awake, talking of nothing vital. Once I arrive to see my summoner, I refrained from bashing his fucking brains into the sand.

"Ashur, the fuck do you want?" I ask him.

"A matter of serious business. Varro has placed wagers with your coin without asking the odds. And I have also arranged the for to meet a woman this very night."

I sigh. Ashur had to be fucking with me. It was in the middle of the night, before the games in the morning. "Give the odds and the amount of coins place on each match. Then show me to this woman."

Ashur pulled out a parchment slip with odds on the matches Varro bet on and the amount of coin wagered. I tucked the slip into my waist, and I was then led to a single room on the training field.

In the single room, I was surprised to see a gorgeous woman dressed in a tan, draped robe with an orange-red stripe over each breast. She has dark brown hair and brown eyes, with lightly freckled cheeks and lightly tanned skin.

"Mira..." The fucking Gods see me elevated by sending aid to my cause.

Mira came late in the series. Obedient and fierce slave, she is. Thrown to Spartacus to prove the might of his cock to later entertain a roman woman of great importance. Her thoughts of defiance were hidden deep within her mind. With the dark desire for freedom and the need to be loved and feel the scorching heat of passion, she clung to Spartacus and developed an unrequited love.

"I know my name?" she asked with great surprise.

I looked at the door and knew Ashur was listening. I move closer to Mira and put my ears to her lips. "You were brought here for one thing, but we will do another. I need your help Mira, and my life depends on it. Tell me, have you ever known a love so heavy it could outweigh the heart of Venus herself?"

"No..." Mira gasped.

"I have, and I do... " I replied. "That is why I need your help. Name your price. Anything I can give you, I will."

"You are but a slave, like me." she quipped.

"I am a gladiator."

"Who's first game is tomorrow," she replied

'Fuck Ashur,' I thought to myself. "Look, all I need is for you to look, listen, and then repeat to me."

"You do not desire me? " she asked.

" That is not it. I desire the knowledge you can pull from the Villa more than I desire your cunt"

Mira sneers. "Fucking Ashur."

I chuckle lightly. "Did he promise you cock and coin?"

Mira gave me a serious side-eye, then broke posture as she chuckled along with me. "I am not a sex slave." she says, " Domina has slaves close to her that Dominus fucks. Or he sex slave. I am neither. Slaves like me will go a lifetime with a proper fucking if we don't seek it ourselves."

I found her amusing. "Horseshit. Are you trying to tell me you've never tasted cock?"

Mira smirked, "I can count the occasions on the one hand. But they all lack what I needed, and it seems this is another poor attempt. Ashur!"

Ashur opened the door, and Mira attempted to breeze by, but I gripped her arm to stall her. Ashur looked between us. Mira exhaled a large breath of air then said her parting words. "I do not require a sword to pierce but a cock attached to a beating heart."

Mira then left the single cell. I then signal for Ashur and tell him that I plan to send for her after the games.

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-Vulcanalia Games-

"Khalos? How do you feel?" Asked Varro.

"Ready to show the world a deadly art that not even roman armor can defend against."

"Jupiter's fucking cock. Can you just speak plain, ever?" Varro sighed.

Khalos laughed at his friend. " pay close attention and watch how I dispatch Nasir in record time."

A low grunt was heard behind Khalos. When he turned around, he saw the dark face of Doctore, followed by words. "Nasir is a seasoned gladiator. Again you speak without thought."

"I only think when the opponent is of note," Khalos replied, then horns bellowed for the start of the last match of the morning.

Khalos dropped his shield and helmet. He took on blad with, and as he walked away, he said, "War gives birth to great advancement and deadly weapons. When the Spanish stormed the island, Arnis advanced to even the odds. And it continued to advance even after the world was scorched in fire. I do not need a shield or helmet, only a sword to prove such things are useless."

"Forgive him, Doctore, Khalos is not mad. He simply communes with the Gods about matters we can not understand," Varro commented as Khalos disappear into a dark tunnel that led to the arena entrance.

Khalos arrived at the end of Batiatus' introduction. But he heard 'Spartacus Thraex' and the gates opened to a crowd cheering his Roman name, Spartacus Spartacus Spartacus.

When he walked on the sands without a helmet or shield. The Batiatus nearly choked on his wine. And Ilithyia almost lept from her seat.

"What is the meaning of this Batiatus? That is not Thraex."

"Forgive, Magister. Spartacus has yet to be tame."

"That is for certain." Ilithyia cooed.

Both Khalos and Nasir paid respects towards the pulpit. Though Khalos made sure Ilithyia knew the honor was all for her. Batiatus glanced towards Ilithyia and was surprised to see a smirk of varying emotions as she took in a chest full of air.

Khalos and Nasir faced each other, and the signal to start the game was giving. Khalos said not a word as he rushes with sweeping diagonal attacks. The crowd cheered, and Nasir began to push back though his attacks were parried.

Khalos had no interest in toying, so he showed the crowd a martial art that would not be created for centuries. Khalos change levels with crushing speed. Nasir's armor meant nothing as Khalos seemed to abuse every opening.

Then Khalos did something shocking. He managed to step inside of Nasir's shield, then under his shield arm. His blade sliced the armpit of Nasir, causing his arm to go dead, dropping his shield. Khalos also released his sword as it was no longer needed.

Khalos moved along Nasir's back. After a few quick and close moves, Khalos stepped away from Nasir, who was holding the sword sheathed in his own throat with a broken, bloodied bone erected from his forearm.

Khalos smiled at his work and thought 'compound fracture was a nice touch. But this body is still far too week. I should use my winnings for herbs before the next game.'

The crowd was speechless. So Khalos quickly picked up his sword and pulled the sword from Nasir's corpse. He looked towards the crowd and hurled his sword seemingly at the crowd, though it the stadium wall and fell back to the sands.

He held up his free hand and sword and shouted at the crowd, "Are you not entertained?! Are. You. Not. Entertained?! Isn't that why you're here?! Death but the most brutal means and cruelest warrior! So fucking cheer!"

Khalos threw his sword to the ground and spit on Nasir's corpse as he walked away. The crowd went fucking wild and chanted his name as if he was the fucking champion of Rome.

Up in the pulpit, Ilithyia sipped her wine then muttered, "as expected of the Thracian."

"Say again, Iliythia," said Lucretia.

Ilithyia was shaken from her trance. "The savagery of the Thracian is to be expected. He slaughtered six of Solonius' men in the same fashion, did he not?"

The Magistrate looked at Solonius, who had felt the blow to his pride. The Magistrate looks to Batiatus and asks, " Should we expect another champion to raise from House Batiatus."

"That is the desire." Batiatus chuckled.

"The desire was to see him dead. Yet he still lives." Ilithyia sneered, but her eyes remained glue the gate that Khalos used to leave the arena.

"The crowd seems to love him. Look how his speech intensified the fire within him. Batiatus, let's hope for your sake that the later matches and Primus do not disappoint." The Magistrate then too looked towards the gate that sealed away Khalos with calculating eyes.