Abbinnaeus the Gladiator - Part Two

Abbinnaeus stood stiffly as the roaring of the crowd pierced his ears. Standing in the passageway looking outwards he could see the arena through the grille of what he'd come to call "the gladiator's gate."

"I shall walk out of it," he thought, "but will I be walking back through it again?" It was the same question he always asked himself before entering the fighting arena. The answer as always, would have to wait.

He'd often scowl at the other gladiators and their show of bravado, it seemed so unnecessary to strut and crow like a fool when anyone with any sense could see that their energy would be best saved for the battle that faced them. They often goaded him, calling him weak for showing his fear in front of them but it was precisely that fear that had kept him alive. A man was a fool not to fear death, for it is fear that gives a man an edge in battle; it supplies the willpower and the burning desire to stay alive.

The chanting cries of "Kill! Kill! Kill!" invaded Abbinnaeus's thoughts and he turned his concentration back towards the arena and the clash taking place ahead of him. The venatores were indeed putting on a show today. Out in the arena lay three dead tigers, picked off by the venatores one by one. They didn't die totally needlessly for Abbinnaeus saw one of the two original gladiators lying mortally wounded beside them.

The stakes were more even now, man against beast one on one as they circled each other warily; both very much aware that it was kill or be killed. The crowd's chants seemed to pick up even more energy and Abbinnaeus could no longer tell whom the frantic mob wanted as victor. He decided that it didn't matter as long as one lost their life. It was all that ever satisfied the cruel crowd – like a pack of wolves; they were always hungry and rarely merciful.

The tiger's roars and snarls seemed exaggerated as they echoed down the hollow tunnel where Abbinnaeus stood. Yet he knew that while the big cat was issuing a warning, he was as terrified as the gladiator that faced him. He felt pity for the animal, whose fate was not unlike the many gladiators here - both were slaves of the Roman Empire, their lives a simple amusement for the notable citizens.

The gladiator and the tiger continued circling eye to eye, the tiger's snarl rose to a roar each time the pike was swung towards him. Swinging his huge powerful hind away, the tiger's paw batted at the ever-nearing spear uselessly, unable to sink his claws into the sharp metal that prodded and goaded at will. Abbinnaeus knew that it was just a matter of time. The tiger had lost heart it seemed and was unable to get close to the gladiator for fear of being struck a fatal blow. The tiger stopped his turning and sat on his haunches panting, his snout curled into a last defiant snarl as he invited the gladiator in.

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