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A Gladiator's Life - 5 - The Language Of Pain
🕑 Added 2025-08-13 01:13:36 +0000 UTCChapter 5: The Language of Pain It was completely dark when Joren returned from the kitchens. He smelled of grease and sweat and was holding
Chapter 5: The Language of Pain
It was completely dark when Joren returned from the kitchens. He smelled of grease and sweat and was holding a lantern. Joren was missing an arm, but his one arm was dangerously thick with muscle, and he looked unhappy to see me on his sleeping mat. Even with one arm, I thought he could easily handle me.
He shut the door with a thud, and I got nervous. He dropped a bundle tucked under his arm on the floor, and he pointed his thumb holding the lantern at his chest. “Joren,” he said sternly.
“Thomas,” I squeaked out, pointing at myself. He nodded and kicked the pack he dropped to the other side of the small room. It was another sleeping mat and blankets. I scurried off his mat and worked to set up mine. Of course, the shit and piss bucket was on my side of the room. He was surprisingly patient for the next twenty minutes as he started naming the things in the room. He eventually gestured for me to sleep, and I made myself as comfortable as I could. I was woken in the middle of the night when Joren took a long piss into the bucket, and his urine splattered on my legs. I curled into a ball to escape the spray and fell asleep again.
The morning began with screaming. The sun was not even up as someone in another cell was screaming. A door slammed open, and I heard a club hitting flesh until the screaming was silenced. Joren woke, lit the lantern, and reviewed the twenty-plus words he taught me last night. He nodded, as I had only forgotten two of them. He taught me a dozen more and a few verbs by mimicking actions. There was a grain of English in the language. He made me leave, and I tried to follow.
Joren shook his head. “Maneo,” he said flatly. I sat back on my mat, and he nodded. Soon, I heard Varka’s voice echoing as she woke the others. I didn’t understand the words, but she clearly sounded eager to begin our training.
Varka's guttural voice got closer and closer. I flinched before she slammed open my door. The others with whom I had arrived were behind her. “SURGE!” She yelled at me. I scrambled to my feet, the welt from the whip yesterday reminding me what I was in store for if I didn’t obey. Every joint screamed. My thighs were knotted with cramps. The unsanitary stench of sweat, piss, and mildew clung to my skin as I joined them. My heart was pounding as I followed them into the yard. The other lanistas were already training their charges.
Varka brought us to a small room filled with worn but clean clothes. She said something, and the others attacked the piles, looking for the best among the used clothing. I found three subligaculum that were unstained and clean. These were simple wrapped loincloths. I found sandals my size, even if they were stained with blood. I took two tunics, because that is the number the others were taking.
Varka yelled, and we quickly deposited our clothes in our rooms before coming out naked except for the loincloth. Varka’s speech was accented, but I was already picking up words and understanding intent. The other lanistas and gladiators they were training were going through training, nothing like what we encountered when we arrived last evening. The others didn’t understand, but I did. That was all an orchestrated show. Even the dead bodies had been taken down today.
My group all looked anxious as Varka brought us to a series of stone pillars. Eight pillars, each forty or so feet in height. There were clear handholds to climb them, and we had seen others doing so yesterday. Varka started talking, and the others moved to occupy the base of one of the pillars. At a shout, the others climbed, and I started up my own. The others proceeded quickly, even the two old men.
They slapped the top and scrambled back down while I was still carefully climbing. The view from the top reached beyond the walls, and you could see the small city in the valley below. Varka was cursing me as I was sightseeing, and even before I reached the bottom, her whip cracked.
My ass flared in pain and I fell the last eight feet, landing hard in the sand and knocking the wind from me. Varka started yelling at me, spittle flying from her mouth. I was expecting more lashes, but she said the word that I took to mean again.
The second time, I put in more effort during the climb, and the others, seeing that, pushed themselves harder too. I guessed there was some punishment for finishing last. And I was last again, and tears came unbidden as I had really tried. The whip cracked the air, and my shoulder exploded in pain. Wearing only a loincloth, my tender flesh was exposed, and it parted and dripped blood. I know I screamed, but I felt helpless.
“Again!” Varka yelled.
I had no choice but to climb again and steeled myself not to be made an example of. We all hurried up the stone pillars again, and Fortuna blessed me as one of the old men screamed. I looked over to see his body turned, and he was barely holding onto one of the recesses. I am ashamed to say I wished he would fall so I wouldn't be last. And he did.
I still pushed to the top and back down to find that the old man had a twisted and swollen ankle. Varka called over two guards, and they carried him away. Varka looked unconcerned about losing one of her gladiators. We climbed the stone three more times, and my arms and legs burned from the effort. The only relief was that the whip did not crack again as long as all of us put in a good effort.
“Rest,” Varka said after our sixth climb, and we all collapsed onto the sand. The sand clung to our sweaty bodies, but we didn’t care. Waterskins and dense, greasy bread were brought to us by young boys. There was an egg inside the small loaves, and I didn’t even care that it still had its shell. The others ate shell and all, and so did I. I didn’t even mind when the second one was a little crunchier since the egg contained a partially developed chick. Hunger was a great motivator to ignore something that would have made me squeamish before.
A man in gray robes came to our group, and I saw him checking on other injured men in the courtyard. He examined each of us, spending more time with me. He cleaned the lash on my shoulder and placed a saturated leaf that smelled like liniment over the wound. The leaf dried rapidly, and the stinging was numbed. I managed to get a few more vocabulary words in the brief encounter. I pointed to the welt below my nipple, and he shook his head, indicating it was not bad enough to need his attention. I didn’t bother pointing out the one on my ass.
“Stand!” Varka yelled. We had almost an hour’s rest, and it was time to work again. Instead of the stone, we moved to the ten-foot logs. We had a group of four and a group of three. I was the tallest in the group by far. I was barely 6’2”, which was above average in my high school, but here I was a giant, as most men were around 5’8”.
I ended up carrying half a log by myself in circles around a burning brazier. The boy and the old man were on the other end, and our logs' diameter was less than that of the group of four. It was manageable for a time as I kept switching shoulders, but soon my thighs and back screamed as we kicked up sand, circling the fire.
Going in one direction was causing one hip to hurt more than the other. Such simple torture was breaking my will. At least it was just a slightly faster than walking pace. The boy in front of me stumbled, and the old man couldn’t take the weight. Their end of the log crashed down and just missed the boy’s foot. Varka’s whip cut the air, and the two struggled to raise the log again.
After two more drops by the boy, Varka let him rest. Now it was just me and the old man carrying our log. We were just walking now, but my joints and muscles screamed at me about the stupidity of pushing on. The group of four lapped us, but looked just as terrible.
“Stop!” Varka yelled, and the logs thudded into the sand. I sat and lay out on our log, trying to get my spine back into alignment. The cool air dried my sweat, and I started to think about completely giving up. This conditioning was insane. I remember quitting football in high school after the first week because we had to do four laps on the track after practice every day in our pads. This was so much worse.
The bread and water came again, and I just kept my eyes closed as I ate. The salt was stinging them anyway. No surprise eggs in the two rolls I ate. When I opened my eyes, Varka looked anxious to get us back to training, but her eyes were judging if we could handle it. She was actually trying to make sure we had a balanced rest. I didn’t think any of us were going to be able to move when she yelled. “Stand!”
We got to our feet more slowly than she liked, and her whip cut one of the men. I saw him tense and I thought he was going to attack her. The smirk on Varka’s face told me she welcomed it. He eventually backed down, and we awaited her will.
It wasn’t as bad as I thought. Varka got her mount, and we went outside the gates to run trails through the surrounding mountains. Running barefoot was not pleasant, but the fresh air and the faux freedom of being outside the walls lifted my spirits some. It was a well-trodden loop that I guessed was almost five miles. I think Varka was hoping one of us would run so she could trample us with her mount.
I was glad I didn’t try to run because there were two small towers along the route, each with three guards in the green plumes. After we finished the loop, Varka sneered as she spoke to us. I only caught a few of the words, but I understood it was a contest, and I tried desperately to figure out what the prize was. As best I could guess, it was “rest day.” Would we get tomorrow off if we all ran again? No, that was too kind for us. I understood only one of us would be given the day off—the rest would have to train.
I don’t think I wanted anything more in my life at that moment. A lot of the others were limping from the intense training. I would probably be limping too, if my ass didn’t throb distracting me. Since I had to complete the loop no matter what, I might as well go all in and push my broken body.
There was no starting gun as the boy left first and we all followed. The boy was immediately caught and pushed off the trail into the bushes and rocks. The boy was maybe fifteen and the probably the best runner in the group so he was being taken out first. I had to remember these men were murderers and thieves.
I held back, planning to sprint past the men in front when the opportunity presented itself. And it did almost immediately as three men started throwing punches. While they were occupied, I ran. I was not a runner and expected to be tackled from behind at any minute. I lengthened my stride and pushed until my lungs burned and my legs wobbled from depletion.
I never looked back and kept telling myself I needed more—don't stop. Then something strange happened. My chest flared with the worst heartburn I had ever experienced, and that heat radiated through all my muscles. Suddenly, the soreness, pain, and fatigue just disappeared. I stumbled in confusion, thinking I was having a heart attack and might be about to die.
No, this was something else. A well of energy I didn't know I had. I risked a quick look back, and two men were about fifty yards behind, with men carrying Varka on her horse just behind them. She looked so amused that anger flared in me. I increased my pace and sprinted, easily widening the gap between us. When I reached the walls of the ludus first, no one else was in sight. I was barely breathing hard as the two guards eyed me suspiciously.
They asked a question I couldn’t answer. They looked ready to restrain me, but Varka’s horses echoed from down the path. She came charging down the trail, fierce anger on her face. It relaxed when she saw me, and she pulled up. She had thought I had tried to escape. I made the mistake of grinning and knew I would regret it later. She turned her horse to herd the others.
Energy flowed through my muscles as I stood tall and waited for the others to arrive. It took them almost fifteen minutes and just as the boy arrived limping with his shin bloodied, my body gave out.
That warmth that had flooded my body was gone, and my muscles roared in protest. I leaned against the gate for support as my muscles convulsed. They needed sustenance that my body did not have. Varka stood over me, a satisfied grin on her face at my condition. She looked—happy. She ordered the two guards to drag me inside, but I was not headed for my room; instead, I was dragged up stairs and to the second floor of the ludus castle.
It was a massive change from the first floor and the dungeons. Marble floors and servants, some of them women, walked the halls. My legs were recovered enough that I could walk on my own. I was escorted into a small office where the cloaked man sat. He no longer wore the cloak, but his bronze eye patch was still there. He looked up from his paperwork expectantly.
Varka started speaking quickly as the man grew more and more interested. His eyes kept drifting to me many times. When Varka finished, the man was smiling. He spoke to me in English. “It appears my coin was not wasted on you after all.”
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Comments
Erick Thiemke
chapter 1 - 4 were updated
Lemes
This story has the potential to be very interesting. I only have one reservation about the author's comment that it would be set about forty years before the story of "A Soldier's Life." The dates don't match MC's accounts. He said in the first chapter that he drove for Uber and had a cell phone. Uber was created in 2010, and cell phones only began to become popular in the second half of the 1990s. I think ten to fifteen years earlier would be more realistic.
Ivan Kanewske
I risked a quick look back, and two men were about fifty yards behind, with men carrying Varka on her horse just behind them. Not sure what you are saying here, Men wouldn't be carrying Varka on her horse, don't think she would have men being carried on her horse either, just whip them some more
Ivan Kanewske
The boy was maybe fifteen and the probably the best runner in the group so he was being taken out first. Remove the The boy was maybe fifteen and *the* probably the best runner in the group so he was being taken out first.
Ivan Kanewske
I would probably be limping too, if my ass didn’t throb distracting me. Suggest I would probably be limping too, if my THROBBING ass didn’t DISTRACT me.
Ivan Kanewske
I found three subligaculum that were unstained and clean. I had to look up what subligaculum was, maybe say I found three LOIN CLOTHS, I WOULD LATER FIND OUT WERE CALLED subligaculum, that were unstained and clean. That's really random info to know
Ivan Kanewske
The boy and the old man were on the other end, and our logs' diameter was less than that of the group of four. Diameter less than 4 feet? Log is smaller because the group is smaller?
Ivan Kanewske
He made me leave, and I tried to follow. Suggest He STARTED TO leave, and I tried to follow.
Virgil Washington
Imprinted his first spell as most otherworlders do.
Erick Thiemke
i did do a quick edit on the first four chapters as well to make sure he came from the 1980's. this bonus tale will get one chapter every two weeks or so.
