A Gladiator who Killed an Emperor

“It is the death of a beast-fighter, you say. Is it less, because of that, the blood of a man? Or is it viler blood because it is from the veins of a wicked man? At any rate it is shed in murder.”

Emperor Pertinax, year 182, one week after Emperor Commodus’s assassination

When Augustus ascended to the throne and declared himself emperor of Rome, establishing Pax Romana, he and his successors became living gods. More powerful than Jupiter himself, the Emperor never bleed while within the walls of the Eternal City. That is until a former bestiarius (gladiator) struck down god himself for the one he loved.

A murderer watched the white sand turn red from blood. The sight had been too familiar to Rome’s greatest bestiarius and yet, that was many years ago. Honored with his rubis at thirty-three, Carpophorus spent nearly three decades living as a free man. The ways of the gladiator, lost to him. The coliseum was no place for an old man, especially one who killed the emperor. He checked his manicea (wristbands) and graves (leg guard) once more. He knew the entirety of Rome wanted him dead, but he would have much prefered if they slit his throat once they found him hunched over Commodus’s lifeless corpse rather than leave him defenseless against a beast of the area.

“No scutum and a blunt gladius to defend myself,” he thought. “By the gods, I pray she isn’t here tonight.”

Lucilla, the deceased emperor’s sister and secret lover of Carpophorus, was the only thing in this world that Carpophorus loved. He cared for nothing more, just her. The roaming hills of Gaul he spat on. The thrill of slaying a beast from half a world away, he spat on. The roar of the crowd, chanting his name, he spat on. His freedom…he spat on. He wanted…needed one thing and he longed for her to be as far away as possible from his death.

“Emperor killer!” roared Victus, a gladiator who specialized in man-to-man combat. “Tell us again how you killed that pig faced coward.”

Carpophorus turned and faced the gladiators who all wore fitted armor and carried sharpened blades. More than two-dozen in total, all on knife’s edge from the thrill of the area. “With a dinning knife to the throat,” he said plainly. “He was dead within seconds.”

Victus bellowed with laughter, his bear-like fingers gripping his stomach. “See, I told you so you cowards,” he roared, taking a moment to look into each one of the gladiator’s eyes. “These Romans die from kitchen ware!”

The gladiators laughed.

“Now let’s go show these motherless cunts how warriors from Germania cut their meat!” he roared, before biting down on the tip of his blade as blood spilt onto his sword.

“Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!” the gladiators chanted, beating their swords against the shield and chest.

When the gate opened to their holding cell, the gladiators lined in front of Victus, shoulder to shoulder. Light poured in, causing them to shun away momentarily. Victus neck thickened as she shouted mighty as the crowd cheering drowned them out. “MARCH FORWARD YOU CUNTS!”

Acknowledging his orders, the gladiators marched forward. Carporphorus pressed himself against the wall, peering into the area, hand covering his eyes from the sun. He knew the emperor and the noble houses of Rome viewed the battles from the royal honorary. Carporphorus didn’t see Lucilla amongst them. “Gods be good,” he mumbled.

“What was that?!” shouted Victus, remaining behind.

“The Gods…there…there…”

“CUNTS!” roared Victus. “No god has my favor for putting me in this pit.”

“You’ll win your freedom, I’m sure of it,” yelled Carporphorus.

“HAHA!” Victus laughed. “A cruel joke the gods played on you. They turned you into a slave for defending your home. They made you a bestiarius for the enemies pleasure. They granted you your freedom only to have you fall in love with an emperor’s sister. They truly are cunts!”

Carporphorus smiled. “Cunts they are.”

Victus pressed himself firmly against Carpophorus, catching him by surprise, something that would have not happened in previous years. “The gods do not favor men like us. We have to carve a path for ourselves,” he whispered in his ear. “At least…” he paused, “at least you get to choose your own ending.”

Carporphorus expression hardened as he felt a single blade edge pressing against his tunic. His body was tense, ready to act as Victus pressed the blade deeper before relieving the blade from his abdomen and presenting the hilt to Carporphorus.

They two gladiators did not speak another word as Victus joined his men for battle, and as the gates closed behind him, Carporphorus examined the blade given to him. “A sharp edge,” he said, running his thumb across the blade. “Thank you brother,” he mumbled, watching the Germanian’s gathered at the center of the arena.

Carporphorus retreated back into the cell. He did not want to watch. He knew father crow was calling him home and if he was going to walk through the stone gate soon, he would surely see Victus and his gladiators laughing at the entrance of the afterlife if they indeed turned the white sands red.

In the empty cell Carporphorus waited. His mind was drifting. The crowds chanting and cries of triumph and agony fell from his thoughts. The one he loved, Lucilla, embraced his mind for every second he lived and he would have it no other way.

When the jailor’s door opened, Carporphorus swore angrily as the jailor removed him from the thoughts of his love. “Give me a fucking…” he paused as his heart sunk. “Lucilla…?”

Covered in commoner attire, sister of the late emperor and lover of Carporphorus removed the hood from her head. Even in the face of seeing her lover killed, she carried herself with dignity. Her silk-like hair, dark as a Gaultic night, was pulled back, revealing her sharp chin and defined cheeks. Her lips were ripped like fresh fruit and dripping moist once bitten into.

“Carporphorus,” she said, as they embraced each other. “I had to see you. I had to see you once last time.”

Carporphorus did not speak. He allowed himself to embrace Lucilla. He kissed the side of her head, pulling her on close. Her perfume filled his senses as her hair brushed against his grizzled cheek. His arms wrapped around her hips, just above her rump. He felt her press deeply against him, their chest beating as one. Her arms traced down his covered back, where her fingers danced around a particular scar.

“Bear claw,” she smiled, looking into his eyes.

“Yes…bear claw,” he smiled back. “A damn big one did that. I told you the story before, yes?”

She tried to hold back a giggle. “Yes…yes you have. I believe it was at my fathers 60th birthday. It was the day I fell in love with you,” she broke their embrace and stepped back and examined the man she loved. She was too young to remember the days of Carporphorus slaying bears, tigers, and even lions. His fame had already been established long before she was born. She did not love him for being a beastiaris like her father did. A once ferocious man, tall and powerful, yet agile for his size was loved by the people. The man who stood in front of her now, was the one she loved. A man with scars and a kind heart. A man with fire in his belly and yet calm as the summer breeze. A man well past his youth, yet makes her feel more alive than Hera herself.

“I…I have something to give you my love,” she said.

Carporphorus closed the distance, holding her arms. “Lucilla!” he whispered. “You can’t give me anything. What if the emperor finds out!”

“I do not care!” she tore her arms away from his hold. “I will not watch the man I love die in an arena filled with vile people!” she turned from him. “You cannot ask this from me. You cannot ask me to watch you die in agony while some beast feasts on you alive.”

“Lucilla…I am a beastiaris, I can win.”

Lucilla whipped around and slapped Carporphorus. “You wish to lie to me as our time together ends. You wish for me to sit there and watch as the emperor gleefully laughs at our demise!”

“I won’t give the emperor an excuse to kill you!” Carporphorus stated.

“Damn what the emperor thinks,” she lashed back, revealing in her hand a small vile. “It is poison. It will cause your heart to cease. Nobody will know it was poison. You are an older man sentenced to fight in the arena. They will…”

Carporphorus pushed her hand away, causing the vile to break on the floor. Holding her wrist, he dared not let go as he pushed her against the far wall away from any listening ears. “I would rather suffer a thousand deaths than incriminate you,” he hissed, pressing himself firmly against her. “Do you understand?!” his fingers dug deeper into her wrist. “I will not die as a coward. I will die the only way I know how,” he said, removing the sharpened blade from his tunic.

Lucilla’s eyes watered, yet still presented herself admirably. She peered down at the blade for a long moment before she met his eyes. “If you’re to take this chosen path, then take me until you depart.”

With her body lodged between the wall and Carporphorus, she pushed herself forward, holding her lover’s head and pushed her plush lips against his and moaned. She moaned like a beast in heat. Her fingers traced over her lover’s shaved skull, examining her inch of his body before his forever departure. Pushing her fingers behind his neck and into his tunic, she spread her fingers outward, fingertips tingling against his flush skin.

Carporphorus met her lips like two swords clashing in combat, dancing against each other for dominance. Pushing his pelvis against her, forcing her against the wall, the old beastiaris forced her further up the wall until she was at level height. Her fierce actions did not stop, matching the old warrior stamina and then some. Reaching between her legs, he felt the awaiting warmth of her womb against his steady hand. Without any hesitation, he opened her to his touch.

Lucilla gasped, breaking their lovers kiss and shoved her face into his shoulder, muffling her moans. Her nails pierced into his back, dragging her nails down his spine with each movement he made inside her. “G..O…D…” she cried into his shoulder, bucking her hips against his tentacle-like fingers.

A thud erupted on the prison cell door. “My princess, we need to go. The emperor will notice your absence.”

“WAIT!!!” she cried out, wrapping her legs around Carporphorus’s waist. He had already made quick work of her skirt as her sex was now completely exposed to him. “JUST…JUST GIVE ME A MOMENT!!!” she cried out, feeling her lover’s sword enter her for the last time. She hunched forward, holding him tightly. “Don’t let go. Don’t let go,” she moaned as the sudden thrust met her entrance with force.

Carporphorus tugged at his lover’s neck, forcing her down on his member while he pushed against her. His legs began to shake with every thrust as he neared the end. He moaned, erecting himself flat against her body as both neared climax. Her hands interlocked around his neck as each thrust nearly bucked her off his manhood as she clung to him in the most awkward of positions. The wall kept her somewhat firm in place as they desperately waited for the end.

They reached climax together, Carporphorus emptied his seed deep inside the princess, holding onto her for dear life as both grasped and gripped at each other before their moist fingertips slipped from each other’s person, breaking them apart.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

The princess breathed deeply, staring up at her lover from the cell floor. “This…this is the end my lover,” she said, slowly standing. “The last time that we will be together.”

Carporphorus helped her to her feet, taking her in her arms for the last time. “This is the end…for now. I will await your arrival at the stone gate.”

“Bye my love.”

“Bye for now, my love.”