When we got to the barracks, we were given a lecture. After listening ot the elder Spartan trainers lecture it seemed like if we did one thing wrong, we would be beaten until we were purple. Immediately after the lecture, we were sent on a long run . We ran for what seemed forever, but when I think back it was most likely only one mile. After the run, we dueled with wooden swords and wrestled, which was really entertaining and also frightening because some of the kids were a lot bigger than me. Every kid learned to duel and wrestle at the barracks. That was just what we had to do. I wrestled Jason, and some kid who I did not know dueled Sparcus. Jason had me on the ground in about five seconds. The kid that Sparcus dueled was about my size and got the wind knocked out of him in moments . The kid was really angry at Sparcus but couldn't do anything about it until he could breathe naturally. Every kid dueled and wrestled that day. The most exciting thing that happened was that a couple kids were thrown on to their heads which caused them to forget what had happened. Some thought this was entertaining while others thought it was scary. Most of our life had been enjoyable so far but everyone knew how hard it was about to become. We were told later that evening by kids who were almost done with training how much bloodier and scary it would get. They told us stories about the duels and warned us we would start using real spears and swords. This scared me because I was barely able to survive with wooden swords. The next couple of years would be very difficult.
After a month or so we began to receive less food from the mess hall. We were starving. We needed to eat. At about 12 o clock at night we would sneak out and steal from the market this was the only way we could survive. My friends and I thought they didn't give us enough food because the cooks were too lazy but in fact the elders just wanted us to get used battle conditions . The lecture on first day of training made it clear that if you were caught stealing you would be whipped for being so stupid as to steal. In the moment we didn't think about the consequences all we thought about was food . One night when we were out we heard screaming. Kids in another pack had been caught stealing food, they were beaten by there captain who was angry to find out that his training did not teach stealth . Jason ,Spacus and I now knew for sure, while watching the whipping, that we were being tested and that was why we weren’t getting very much food and drink. The captain beat the kids form the pack with a whip. Every time one of them was whipped a there would be a spurt of blood like a malfunctioning water fountain. They were almost in tears I think everyone felt bad for them and I think it scared everyone too. No one went out the next night to steal from the market.
I was so tired from not eating because when you don’t have enough food in your stomach it is hard to do pretty much anything. I couldn’t even sleep. I would lay awake making a plan to fill my belly. I decided not to attend the ceremony where we sacrifice to the Gods. Instead I decided to sleep and regain my energy and to steal something good from the market. I told Jason and Sparcus my plan, they think I will be caught and beaten. I told Sparcus to dress up in my robes so I wont be caught and he agreed.
The day after the sacrifice I went to the mess hall with Jason and Sparcus. All of the elders praised us for being very religious kids and announced we should get special privileges. They announced we don't have to go running. Instead we were able to go spar which is my favorite thing in the world and a priviledge. However, the one thing I didn't know is that we were about to use real swords and spears for the first time.
After, being praised by the elders, our elders let us have a day that all we do is fight. I fought a kid I really didn’t know. Within seconds, I had the tip of my sword at his throat. There was terror in his eyes he said "since when are you good at fighting?" Jason and Sparcus were crying with laughter because the kids expression was pretty hilarious. He looked like he was going to start crying but he finally got up. After that little battle there were a couple of really gory fights. Jason was fighting a kid with a spears. He hit the kid in the head with the shaft of the spear, the kid then fell onto his hands and knees and then Jason brought the tip of the spear straight down into the kid’s hand. If you can imagine a bottle of wine exploding you should be able to picture this. The kids hand was stuck in the ground cause the spear had gone straight through his hand and beyond his hand, several inches in the ground. Everyone was speechless except the kid who was screaming "take it out please!!!! " Within seconds Jason pulled the spear out and the kid had left and gone to the infirmary. In the past Jason and I would always duel but he was not dueling today and seemed somewhat down. Instead I dueled Sparcus who's reflexes seemed sort of slow. Still he was very good he almost cut my head off if hadn't ducked I wouldn't be here today. I lunged and stabbed at him but he sidestepped and I missed him by inches. He slashed down at my feet and I jumped back. Sparcus had a creepy grin on his face he looked like he wanted to stab me as many times as he could within the next few minutes without chopping me in half. He started to sprint at me I did the first thing that came to mind. I threw my sword like a dagger it went soaring and it hit Sparcus square in the jugular. Everyone was slightly impressed but they were also frightened. Several were muttering "how did he do that". It seemed that the world had stopped for me I just put a sword through my best friends throat. We all have been told by the elders that you can only live for a few minutes when your throat has been slit. My sword was still in Sparcus. I walked over to Sparcus I felt like I had no emotions. I wasn't in tears, I wasn't happy, I wasn't sad, I was just there. When I got to Sparcus he was as pale as a ghost. I was suddenly overcome with emotions. I was starting to feel extremely horrible then Sparcus whispered something to me " you fought well" then he was gone. I put my foot on his chest and pulled my sword out of his throat there was a blast of blood then it was over, Sparcus was dead. The boy who helped me out more than anyone was dead. I was going to have to overcome what had happened that day. I was changed from that day forward.
After many years of training to be a warrior I became a captain and lead the Spartans into many battles. I was one of the thousands that fought at Troy. I became what Sparcus wanted for me. Jason died at Troy he was my favorite he was killed by the Trogens spears. He gave his life for so many people he was a true hero.
In the end plenty of us survived even though my best friends were dead. I noticed that I have come a long way from being the kid who almost gets beaten with wooden swords.
Showing posts with label HF Story: Medieval Times. Show all posts
Showing posts with label HF Story: Medieval Times. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
Templar Chamber ~ by Schuyler
I walked into the chamber, and the scene was like a vivid nightmare. The cold, musty Templar cellar overwhelmed my nose. In the dancing candlelight, everyone stood bleached white. Their thin faces were wrought with stress as if a demon was haunting them; I didn't want to ask what was wrong. Besides that, no one greeted me. For an odd reason, I felt like an unwelcome guest. I searched the room hoping to find the cause of this tension. I shouldn't have. I realized something that made my gut drop. Someone was gone. No, it was worse, I knew that by the way everyone was acting, someone was dead.
I searched the mass of people, but as hard as I tried, I couldn't put my finger on who it was. Then it came to me. "He's dead," I muttered, my voice slowly rising. I knew Eric wouldn't miss a meeting for his life. Something was horribly wrong.
"He's dead! Eric's dead!" I yelled, my miserable voice echoing in the halls. My best friend Eric was dead.
1120 A.D., Isreal
My memories took over as I thought back to the time when we had once fought together as friends. I remembered the blistering heat of the desert. The Muslim city glimmered in the distance like a mirage. The city intimidated me. I knew it was going to be fateful day, filled with life and death. The horn sounded, and I took off on my horse. I had a spear in my right hand and was ready to draw a sword in my left. As we neared the Sejuk Turks on the outside of the city, we let out a feral war cry. We were the outside city guard. When we got past them, it would be straight to the city. I pressed on, drawing nearer. Then I remembered Eric was to my left, and I turned my head and to see if I could grab his attention.
"Eric!" I yelled. The wind blew away my voice like grains of sand in a dust storm. Still, I caught his attention. I smiled at him. For all I knew, it might have been the last time I ever saw him. He gave me a sad, melancholy smile. I turned back towards the city. I prepared myself for a long, bloody battle.
I snapped back to the present and asked, "Why? Who did this?"
"We don't know," said William, the leader of the Knights Templar in the area. "We all were walking down the hall and found a dagger in his back. It could be any one of us." William knew everything, all the secrets about the group.
"Why though?" I pressured, "Why would someone do this?"
Someone in the group announced, "Maybe he was after money or a relic from the crusades?" All eyes turned toward William. Personally, I didn't know about any relic. We waited anxiously for William to speak. At last he announced, "That's none your business." With that he walked off, down a side passage, leaving us in a confused silence.
People started talking, their thoughts boiling like a thick stew. I knew I couldn't trust anybody. I kept my thoughts to myself. I sat pondering. Who would have done this, member or not? Finally, I couldn't stand the murmuring, so I quickly slipped out without a word. I headed towards the ancient oak door. I wanted to leave. My hands gripped the the chilled iron door and pulled. My heart skipped a beat. The door wouldn't budge. I pulled and kicked, but the door prevailed. Now I was really worried. A sick feeling sprouted in my stomach. I sprinted back to the meeting room as if I was running for my life. For all I knew, I was. I burst into the center of the room, panting like a dog. Everyone's eyes turned to me and stared at me like I was insane.
"The doors are locked," I announced, surprising everyone. Following my announcement, an outburst of angry discussion erupted. People were frantic. I knew the sanity would only last so long, so I slowly slipped out of the meeting room. I walked down the hall a small distance. The whole way I kept my eyes peeled. I started thinking. Why would someone do this? Is it for money? power? or do we have the relic? My gut tensed. Why hadn't William told me if he had a relic? Did he think I was a traitor? Anger swelled in me, but I slowly calmed down. I knew that making rash predictions would get me nowhere. My thoughts came back to earth. William had come back. Everyone was still heavily debating. I asked William in a hushed, pained voice, "Any lead on who you think did this?"
It was impossible for me to think that anyone here besides a new member would have done this. The new members were my main suspects, but I wasn't sure. Even though we were extremely careful who we let in, a spy could have joined. I was glad now that I brought my dress sword. If the situation escalated to violence, it might just come in handy. The dark tunnels were only occasionally lit with a torch, so they provided the perfect place to hide. On the way back to the center room, I wondered if the fight had grown. I had to keep everyone from leaving the center room. Whoever killed Eric could easily pick us off if we were caught alone in the tunnel. Thinking of Eric brought tears to my eyes. All though years we had worked together as each other's right hand man, and now he was gone.
1120 A.D., Isreal
The impact of my spear impaling the first soldier in my path almost knocked me of my horse. The Calvary had just hit the enemies front line. My spear was sticking out of the man like a weird body part. I swapped my sword into my right hand and charged ahead on my horse. In my few seconds of spare time, I looked behind me. I saw Eric on the ground clutching his knee. I could tell he was in agonizing pain. My heart was torn. The captain had given strict orders not to help anybody who was injured or fallen. He didn't want soldiers getting off their horses until battle was over. He wanted everyone focused on the battle. I heard another war cry, along with the distant rumble of hooves. I defiantly spun my horse around and leaped off. That was a big mistake.
I rushed to Eric and urged him to tell me where he was hurt. I knew if he didn't get up, the oncoming Calvary would plow us down. I dragged Eric over to my horse and tried to pull him onto my horse. As the Calvary got closer, I saw a soldier staring me in the eye. He sneered at me as he drew his sword and raised it above his head. I had to move. As I turned Eric around, I saw an arrow sticking out off his side. My heart dropped. At that moment, life slowed. I heaved Eric onto the horse and desperately searched for a weapon to defend myself with. I spotted one and desperately lunged at it. As I lifted myself up I saw a sword swinging down toward my head.
I shook my head, clearing it of distant memories. “Everyone,” I announced, standing on a chair, “whoever the killer is will not be able to pick us off in the center chamber. Stay here and do not leave.”
Nods of approval replied in the audience. I hopped off the stand and walked towards William. He nodded in approval, agreeing to my plan. I took him over into the corner to discus our predicament. "We need to find a way out of here," I whispered to him, "we should try breaking open the door."
"You know as well as I do that that door is more than one foot thick. We would never be able to break it open - even in our wildest dreams," he snarled back at me.
"Fine, but at least I'm trying to get out of this God forsaken pit. These tunnels are riddled with exits, we just have to find one." With that I walked off to talk to a few other senior members about what we should do. I knew that we had to find a way out. I proposed to the group, "We should organize a search party with about half of our group. That group would head off in search of a way out. The rest of the group could protect the center chamber." Or at least it was my plan.
They agreed and one of the most respected members announced, "Everyone, we need to break into two groups. One of them will venture into the tunnels and search for a exit. The other will stay here. We must act now."
"I will go!" I cried. Others chimed in after me. When we had a sufficient number of volunteers, we armed up. I grabbed my sword and prayed, I prayed to the lord. I asked for guidance. I slowly gathered my thoughts and pulled myself up from the chair I had sat on. Then, I slowly and solemnly lead my group out into the tunnel.
As I continued walking, William ran up behind me. "Don't do this!" he told me urgently.
"I'll do what I must," I responded gravely.
"You're on a suicide run and you know it," he yelled at me with all the malice in the world entwined into his voice. "You were always stupid. I'll be glad when you exhale your last breath. Good riddance"
This stopped me dead in my tracks. "Well it seems all you want to do is to sit in the chamber and rot to death. I guess it comes to this. When I find the way out, I won't bother helping you escape." I instantly regretted saying that. It was against my heart.
With that, he turned around and silently walked off. I beckoned for everybody to follow me. I couldn't speak as I knew my voice would failed me. As I walked down the torch lit tunnel, I grabbed one of them off the wall. I was glad I did. About thirty feet ahead the torch line ended. We slowed down as we entered the shadowy realm. I felt my very life slow down as a silver tipped arrow skimmed past my face. It was an omen of death from the devil himself.
As life instantly snapped back into real time, I heard the arrow sink somebody; this is a sound you would never want to hear. A black shadow leaped though the air, an omen of death. I instantly unsheathed my sword, but he shoved me down. With a quick few swings everyone was dead within seconds. Before my eyes flashed the image of Eric. With a yell of anger at all the deaths of the past, I leaped at the assailant. Our swords met with a unearthly clash. I quickly spun my sword above my head and brought it down on him with all weight of the deaths of the past. But he barely blocked as he staggered back. We went back and forth. Finally, I sliced his torso in a lucky swing. He stumbled back to the wall clutching his wound. I slowly walked up to him, preparing to give the final blow. As I approached I saw his face. He was Arabian. As I got a closer look I realized he was a Hasheem, a type of assassin. Before I could respond, I saw a flash of steel felt a searing pain from my rib cage. I sliced at his head and felt a soft swosh. I won't tell the details. I fell to the ground, gasping for breath. In my last minutes of my life I thought about my life. I realized William had only acted out of fear. Fear controls people. I slowly let go of life. At least I could be with Eric. I was at peace. For a final time I closed my eyes.
~ by Schuyler
I searched the mass of people, but as hard as I tried, I couldn't put my finger on who it was. Then it came to me. "He's dead," I muttered, my voice slowly rising. I knew Eric wouldn't miss a meeting for his life. Something was horribly wrong.
"He's dead! Eric's dead!" I yelled, my miserable voice echoing in the halls. My best friend Eric was dead.
1120 A.D., Isreal
My memories took over as I thought back to the time when we had once fought together as friends. I remembered the blistering heat of the desert. The Muslim city glimmered in the distance like a mirage. The city intimidated me. I knew it was going to be fateful day, filled with life and death. The horn sounded, and I took off on my horse. I had a spear in my right hand and was ready to draw a sword in my left. As we neared the Sejuk Turks on the outside of the city, we let out a feral war cry. We were the outside city guard. When we got past them, it would be straight to the city. I pressed on, drawing nearer. Then I remembered Eric was to my left, and I turned my head and to see if I could grab his attention.
"Eric!" I yelled. The wind blew away my voice like grains of sand in a dust storm. Still, I caught his attention. I smiled at him. For all I knew, it might have been the last time I ever saw him. He gave me a sad, melancholy smile. I turned back towards the city. I prepared myself for a long, bloody battle.
I snapped back to the present and asked, "Why? Who did this?"
"We don't know," said William, the leader of the Knights Templar in the area. "We all were walking down the hall and found a dagger in his back. It could be any one of us." William knew everything, all the secrets about the group.
"Why though?" I pressured, "Why would someone do this?"
Someone in the group announced, "Maybe he was after money or a relic from the crusades?" All eyes turned toward William. Personally, I didn't know about any relic. We waited anxiously for William to speak. At last he announced, "That's none your business." With that he walked off, down a side passage, leaving us in a confused silence.
People started talking, their thoughts boiling like a thick stew. I knew I couldn't trust anybody. I kept my thoughts to myself. I sat pondering. Who would have done this, member or not? Finally, I couldn't stand the murmuring, so I quickly slipped out without a word. I headed towards the ancient oak door. I wanted to leave. My hands gripped the the chilled iron door and pulled. My heart skipped a beat. The door wouldn't budge. I pulled and kicked, but the door prevailed. Now I was really worried. A sick feeling sprouted in my stomach. I sprinted back to the meeting room as if I was running for my life. For all I knew, I was. I burst into the center of the room, panting like a dog. Everyone's eyes turned to me and stared at me like I was insane.
"The doors are locked," I announced, surprising everyone. Following my announcement, an outburst of angry discussion erupted. People were frantic. I knew the sanity would only last so long, so I slowly slipped out of the meeting room. I walked down the hall a small distance. The whole way I kept my eyes peeled. I started thinking. Why would someone do this? Is it for money? power? or do we have the relic? My gut tensed. Why hadn't William told me if he had a relic? Did he think I was a traitor? Anger swelled in me, but I slowly calmed down. I knew that making rash predictions would get me nowhere. My thoughts came back to earth. William had come back. Everyone was still heavily debating. I asked William in a hushed, pained voice, "Any lead on who you think did this?"
It was impossible for me to think that anyone here besides a new member would have done this. The new members were my main suspects, but I wasn't sure. Even though we were extremely careful who we let in, a spy could have joined. I was glad now that I brought my dress sword. If the situation escalated to violence, it might just come in handy. The dark tunnels were only occasionally lit with a torch, so they provided the perfect place to hide. On the way back to the center room, I wondered if the fight had grown. I had to keep everyone from leaving the center room. Whoever killed Eric could easily pick us off if we were caught alone in the tunnel. Thinking of Eric brought tears to my eyes. All though years we had worked together as each other's right hand man, and now he was gone.
1120 A.D., Isreal
The impact of my spear impaling the first soldier in my path almost knocked me of my horse. The Calvary had just hit the enemies front line. My spear was sticking out of the man like a weird body part. I swapped my sword into my right hand and charged ahead on my horse. In my few seconds of spare time, I looked behind me. I saw Eric on the ground clutching his knee. I could tell he was in agonizing pain. My heart was torn. The captain had given strict orders not to help anybody who was injured or fallen. He didn't want soldiers getting off their horses until battle was over. He wanted everyone focused on the battle. I heard another war cry, along with the distant rumble of hooves. I defiantly spun my horse around and leaped off. That was a big mistake.
I rushed to Eric and urged him to tell me where he was hurt. I knew if he didn't get up, the oncoming Calvary would plow us down. I dragged Eric over to my horse and tried to pull him onto my horse. As the Calvary got closer, I saw a soldier staring me in the eye. He sneered at me as he drew his sword and raised it above his head. I had to move. As I turned Eric around, I saw an arrow sticking out off his side. My heart dropped. At that moment, life slowed. I heaved Eric onto the horse and desperately searched for a weapon to defend myself with. I spotted one and desperately lunged at it. As I lifted myself up I saw a sword swinging down toward my head.
I shook my head, clearing it of distant memories. “Everyone,” I announced, standing on a chair, “whoever the killer is will not be able to pick us off in the center chamber. Stay here and do not leave.”
Nods of approval replied in the audience. I hopped off the stand and walked towards William. He nodded in approval, agreeing to my plan. I took him over into the corner to discus our predicament. "We need to find a way out of here," I whispered to him, "we should try breaking open the door."
"You know as well as I do that that door is more than one foot thick. We would never be able to break it open - even in our wildest dreams," he snarled back at me.
"Fine, but at least I'm trying to get out of this God forsaken pit. These tunnels are riddled with exits, we just have to find one." With that I walked off to talk to a few other senior members about what we should do. I knew that we had to find a way out. I proposed to the group, "We should organize a search party with about half of our group. That group would head off in search of a way out. The rest of the group could protect the center chamber." Or at least it was my plan.
They agreed and one of the most respected members announced, "Everyone, we need to break into two groups. One of them will venture into the tunnels and search for a exit. The other will stay here. We must act now."
"I will go!" I cried. Others chimed in after me. When we had a sufficient number of volunteers, we armed up. I grabbed my sword and prayed, I prayed to the lord. I asked for guidance. I slowly gathered my thoughts and pulled myself up from the chair I had sat on. Then, I slowly and solemnly lead my group out into the tunnel.
As I continued walking, William ran up behind me. "Don't do this!" he told me urgently.
"I'll do what I must," I responded gravely.
"You're on a suicide run and you know it," he yelled at me with all the malice in the world entwined into his voice. "You were always stupid. I'll be glad when you exhale your last breath. Good riddance"
This stopped me dead in my tracks. "Well it seems all you want to do is to sit in the chamber and rot to death. I guess it comes to this. When I find the way out, I won't bother helping you escape." I instantly regretted saying that. It was against my heart.
With that, he turned around and silently walked off. I beckoned for everybody to follow me. I couldn't speak as I knew my voice would failed me. As I walked down the torch lit tunnel, I grabbed one of them off the wall. I was glad I did. About thirty feet ahead the torch line ended. We slowed down as we entered the shadowy realm. I felt my very life slow down as a silver tipped arrow skimmed past my face. It was an omen of death from the devil himself.
As life instantly snapped back into real time, I heard the arrow sink somebody; this is a sound you would never want to hear. A black shadow leaped though the air, an omen of death. I instantly unsheathed my sword, but he shoved me down. With a quick few swings everyone was dead within seconds. Before my eyes flashed the image of Eric. With a yell of anger at all the deaths of the past, I leaped at the assailant. Our swords met with a unearthly clash. I quickly spun my sword above my head and brought it down on him with all weight of the deaths of the past. But he barely blocked as he staggered back. We went back and forth. Finally, I sliced his torso in a lucky swing. He stumbled back to the wall clutching his wound. I slowly walked up to him, preparing to give the final blow. As I approached I saw his face. He was Arabian. As I got a closer look I realized he was a Hasheem, a type of assassin. Before I could respond, I saw a flash of steel felt a searing pain from my rib cage. I sliced at his head and felt a soft swosh. I won't tell the details. I fell to the ground, gasping for breath. In my last minutes of my life I thought about my life. I realized William had only acted out of fear. Fear controls people. I slowly let go of life. At least I could be with Eric. I was at peace. For a final time I closed my eyes.
~ by Schuyler
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Sonamax - A Gladiator Story ~by Paul G.
This is a true story, not make believe. I hoped that I would earn my freedom, but this is reality. Often in tales the good guy wins, and evil fails. But not in reality. In reality, people die and evil often does win. So here is my story, a true story.
I have to get there! I have to get there! The thought filled my head; it was all I could think. Though I could not yet hear the guards footsteps behind mine, I wanted to get to the house as soon as I could and warn my boy about the games.
There was no time to think about my escape from the Colosseum. I could feel the burn in my muscles and the pain in my chest. I was breathing hard. I had to try to calm down. Around me the trees were whispering to each other, urging me on from the gentle night breeze. Dashing swiftly and quietly through the mud and brick city's dirt road, I saw that I was close. I turned one more corner and there it was. A single tear fell from my eyes. My small house; through the darkness of the night I could make it out. I knew this would be the last time I would ever see this house.
Another tear started to fall; I wiped it away quickly. There were other things to worry about. I could hear the guards footsteps coming closer now. I was going to be captured. I had to make use of these last minutes before they found me.
I was only a couple feet away from my house, so I jumped up onto the porch and ran through the doorway. The smell of bread and cheese filled my nostrils; I ran to my boy's room, and tapped him on the shoulder. He woke up and said in a shocked voice "Father, what are you do-."
I interrupted him before he could finish and said, "Shhhh. Now listen to me. Never become a gladiator! Do you hear me? NEVER! If the soldiers are capturing slaves, don't try to be brave. Just run."
My son was more awake now, nodding his head in agreement. "Yes father, I hear you," He cried. His eyes, like mine, swelled with tears.
"Now, I want you to tell your mother that I love her, and that I shall see her again in heaven." Tears now flowed freely from my eyes. I hugged my son knowing that this would be the last time I would ever see him . "I have to go now or they will take you too," I sobbed.
"No, please stay here, I don't want you to go!" he stuttered, tears running down his face.
"I'm sorry. You are the most important person in my life, and I can't have them take you too. Goodbye. I will never forgive myself." Those were my last words and I was out the room.
I saw the guards circling the house now, their swords ready. I figured that they must have seen me run into the house. I saw that they they hadn't covered the back of the house yet, so I hopped out the window and started to run. But before I took three steps I saw a guard running toward me, calling out my name. "Sonamax! Sonamax! Come out. We know you are here!"
I could see the guard clearly in the light glowing from his lantern. A silver, shiny suit covered most of his body, and a silver helmet protected his head. He had a three-foot long sword and a small round shield. Thank God it was night, otherwise he would have seen me. I picked up a large branch and hid behind a corner. I was hoping that if I could hit the guard hard enough, the blow would knock him unconscious, and I would be able to make a run for it.
I could hear his footsteps getting closer. I only had one chance to get this blow off. I saw one of his feet step into my view. As he walked around the corner, I threw the branch and it whistled through the air. Before he could harm me, there was a deafening clash and the guard dropped to the ground unconscious. I knelt down and my fingers touched something wet. I picked up the lantern and looked. I could see a puddle of blood starting to form behind his head. I picked up his head and saw what was causing the bleeding. There had been a rock right where his head had landed.The branch had knocked his helmet off and the back of his head had hit the rock.
It was then I flashed back to the fight at the Colosseum. The bleeding corpse at my feet. The crowd cheering at the death.
Just as quickly, I was back in my small town with an unconscious guard lying in the soft grass; his head bleeding, his arms and legs limp in the darkness of the night. I knelt down and checked his pulse, one of the only positive skills I learned in gladiator school. He was still alive. I grabbed his sword and started to run but a piercing pain bolted through my leg. I tumbled to the ground, only to find an arrow sticking in my calf and four guards approaching.
"Well, well, if it isn't Sonamax?" said the guard in front. "We have finally caught you. Hard to believe that you could actually escape the Colosseum. The guards were amazed when you where able to sneak through the barracks and past them without any of them noticing!" The guard was a tall man, possibly six foot three to six foot four, stern and hardened from years of fighting. But at that moment, he seemed pleasantly amused. By the look of his face, I figured he was in his late twenties, possibly early thirties. I studied the other three guards. Two of them were also tall, and by the look of their faces it looked like they had not smiled in years. But the last guard was shorter than the others by an entire head. "Come, let's chain him up; we have a long way to walk." They pulled my hands behind my back, and tied chains around them. They picked up the unconscious guard and then started to walk. I looked behind me and considered trying to run. But the pain in my leg was to strong, and they would probably catch me in an instant, so I just went with them.
Then the shortest one said, "So Sonamax, tell us your story. It will give us some sort of entertainment for the walk back."
I refused at first, but then I figured there was nothing better to do. I knew they would kill me either way, once we got back to the Colosseum. "Well," I sighed, "I was captured last year in 245 BC. I was just a regular man, living a regular life, until you came in."
"Me?" the man questioned.
"Guards," I said. "Lots of them. When they first started the raid, I had no idea what was happening. I saw smoke on the other side of the town, and people running and screaming. Then I saw guards riding on armored horses throwing nets over the citizens. When I saw this, I knew what was happening. I had heard stories," I sighed, "I started to run, too, but in an instant, I was trapped under a net, and I was falling onto the hot dirt road." I paused. I looked at the guards' faces. They were emotionless, the same as always, not troubled by the story.
Then the shortest one said, "Then what?"
At least he showed some interest! "I can't remember what happened then, I think I hit my head on a rock. I woke up a couple hours later, riding in a wagon. There were four other people on it also. They all looked very muscular and sad, as if something terrible had happened to them." I stopped talking. I could feel the tears coming. I blinked and held them back. I noticed the guards hard faces still looked emotionless. "Then, I remembered what had happened and why these people looked sad. I remembered the raid and the guards on the horses. I started to sit up but a person with dark skin and big brown eyes said, 'No. Stop and rest. You hit your head badly you need to let it heal.' I slowly laid back down. The man was tall, maybe six foot two or six foot three. He had a thick body, muscular arms and legs, and scar running down the side of his face. I fell back asleep and I didn't wake up until we stopped at the gladiator school."
It was a big, brick building with very few windows. We were taught to fight each other using wooden swords, and blunt iron objects. We trained with an instructor. The instructors were mostly past gladiators who won their freedom in the Gladiator games. They told us of great fights and victories. I heard that once a man had to fight his own brother to the death! Anyway, the training went well. I was better than I thought I would be. Everyone said I was a natural, able to do all the strike attack movements easily. I relaxed and began to enjoy myself until I had my first fight the Colosseum. It was at the end of the fight..." I paused sucking up the tears and recollecting myself.
"I was fighting a bigger man, possibly six foot eight of six foot seven. Had a broad face and a beard and dark blue eyes. And as I said it was at the end of the fight. I lunged my sword straight at his stomach but he blocked it with his shield. He pushed me back with his shield, took a step back and swung a blow at my head, I ducked, took a step to my left, and swung my sword at his wrist. It hit, and blood pulsed out. He dropped his sword in shock and tried to cover the wound. He was defenseless and his life was in my hands. I looked at the emperor; he was contemplating. He stuck his hand out and put a thumb down. The crowd roared. I knew what I had to do. I raised my sword and brought it down on his neck. It was then that the enormity of what I had done hit me. I saw the man laying there; his face pale and his body motionless. I knew that man probably had a family and dreams. And I had ended them with one quick stroke. After that I went crazy thinking of what I did. I didn't want to believe I was a killer but I was. From that moment on, there was always something to remind me of what I had done. I thought about committing suicide, but I could never bring myself to do it. It didn't take long until I knew I had to worn my boy about the games."
"Yes, I was wondering how you could have escaped."
One of them said, "Then I shall tell you."
I said, "It is quite simple actually. I had studied and devised a plan. In the morning I found a rag and wrapped it around my leg. I will tell you why I did this later. I figured out that at mid day the guards would go for their meal. At the same time a man would walk through the barracks giving food to the gladiators through the bars of the cells. The Gladiators had to stick their hands out for the man to give them food. When he saw me sitting in a chair away from the bars he asked me why I wasn't standing at the bars like the others. I told him that my leg was injured and that he would have to come give it to me. I showed him the bandage wrapped around my leg. He took out a key, opened the gate, and walked over to give me the food. When he did, I punched him in the stomach and then slammed his head in the wall. I made sure he was alive, then made a run through the opened gate." I looked at the guards. "I assume someone had to see me, or you wouldn't be here." I said. I looked ahead and saw we were arriving at the Colosseum.
"Killing was not like I had been told. There was no glory, no pride. Instead I felt like a thief. I had taken all that man's hopes and all that man's dreams for nothing. All his dreams had vanished in a flash. And he was innocent.
"I wish I had never killed that man. After it was over, I wished I were the one killed, not him." The guards looked at me strangely then the one in front said, "Well Sonamax, tomorrow you will get your wish!"
I looked at him and whispered, "Thank you."
By ~ Paul
I have to get there! I have to get there! The thought filled my head; it was all I could think. Though I could not yet hear the guards footsteps behind mine, I wanted to get to the house as soon as I could and warn my boy about the games.
There was no time to think about my escape from the Colosseum. I could feel the burn in my muscles and the pain in my chest. I was breathing hard. I had to try to calm down. Around me the trees were whispering to each other, urging me on from the gentle night breeze. Dashing swiftly and quietly through the mud and brick city's dirt road, I saw that I was close. I turned one more corner and there it was. A single tear fell from my eyes. My small house; through the darkness of the night I could make it out. I knew this would be the last time I would ever see this house.
Another tear started to fall; I wiped it away quickly. There were other things to worry about. I could hear the guards footsteps coming closer now. I was going to be captured. I had to make use of these last minutes before they found me.
I was only a couple feet away from my house, so I jumped up onto the porch and ran through the doorway. The smell of bread and cheese filled my nostrils; I ran to my boy's room, and tapped him on the shoulder. He woke up and said in a shocked voice "Father, what are you do-."
I interrupted him before he could finish and said, "Shhhh. Now listen to me. Never become a gladiator! Do you hear me? NEVER! If the soldiers are capturing slaves, don't try to be brave. Just run."
My son was more awake now, nodding his head in agreement. "Yes father, I hear you," He cried. His eyes, like mine, swelled with tears.
"Now, I want you to tell your mother that I love her, and that I shall see her again in heaven." Tears now flowed freely from my eyes. I hugged my son knowing that this would be the last time I would ever see him . "I have to go now or they will take you too," I sobbed.
"No, please stay here, I don't want you to go!" he stuttered, tears running down his face.
"I'm sorry. You are the most important person in my life, and I can't have them take you too. Goodbye. I will never forgive myself." Those were my last words and I was out the room.
I saw the guards circling the house now, their swords ready. I figured that they must have seen me run into the house. I saw that they they hadn't covered the back of the house yet, so I hopped out the window and started to run. But before I took three steps I saw a guard running toward me, calling out my name. "Sonamax! Sonamax! Come out. We know you are here!"
I could see the guard clearly in the light glowing from his lantern. A silver, shiny suit covered most of his body, and a silver helmet protected his head. He had a three-foot long sword and a small round shield. Thank God it was night, otherwise he would have seen me. I picked up a large branch and hid behind a corner. I was hoping that if I could hit the guard hard enough, the blow would knock him unconscious, and I would be able to make a run for it.
I could hear his footsteps getting closer. I only had one chance to get this blow off. I saw one of his feet step into my view. As he walked around the corner, I threw the branch and it whistled through the air. Before he could harm me, there was a deafening clash and the guard dropped to the ground unconscious. I knelt down and my fingers touched something wet. I picked up the lantern and looked. I could see a puddle of blood starting to form behind his head. I picked up his head and saw what was causing the bleeding. There had been a rock right where his head had landed.The branch had knocked his helmet off and the back of his head had hit the rock.
It was then I flashed back to the fight at the Colosseum. The bleeding corpse at my feet. The crowd cheering at the death.
Just as quickly, I was back in my small town with an unconscious guard lying in the soft grass; his head bleeding, his arms and legs limp in the darkness of the night. I knelt down and checked his pulse, one of the only positive skills I learned in gladiator school. He was still alive. I grabbed his sword and started to run but a piercing pain bolted through my leg. I tumbled to the ground, only to find an arrow sticking in my calf and four guards approaching.
"Well, well, if it isn't Sonamax?" said the guard in front. "We have finally caught you. Hard to believe that you could actually escape the Colosseum. The guards were amazed when you where able to sneak through the barracks and past them without any of them noticing!" The guard was a tall man, possibly six foot three to six foot four, stern and hardened from years of fighting. But at that moment, he seemed pleasantly amused. By the look of his face, I figured he was in his late twenties, possibly early thirties. I studied the other three guards. Two of them were also tall, and by the look of their faces it looked like they had not smiled in years. But the last guard was shorter than the others by an entire head. "Come, let's chain him up; we have a long way to walk." They pulled my hands behind my back, and tied chains around them. They picked up the unconscious guard and then started to walk. I looked behind me and considered trying to run. But the pain in my leg was to strong, and they would probably catch me in an instant, so I just went with them.
Then the shortest one said, "So Sonamax, tell us your story. It will give us some sort of entertainment for the walk back."
I refused at first, but then I figured there was nothing better to do. I knew they would kill me either way, once we got back to the Colosseum. "Well," I sighed, "I was captured last year in 245 BC. I was just a regular man, living a regular life, until you came in."
"Me?" the man questioned.
"Guards," I said. "Lots of them. When they first started the raid, I had no idea what was happening. I saw smoke on the other side of the town, and people running and screaming. Then I saw guards riding on armored horses throwing nets over the citizens. When I saw this, I knew what was happening. I had heard stories," I sighed, "I started to run, too, but in an instant, I was trapped under a net, and I was falling onto the hot dirt road." I paused. I looked at the guards' faces. They were emotionless, the same as always, not troubled by the story.
Then the shortest one said, "Then what?"
At least he showed some interest! "I can't remember what happened then, I think I hit my head on a rock. I woke up a couple hours later, riding in a wagon. There were four other people on it also. They all looked very muscular and sad, as if something terrible had happened to them." I stopped talking. I could feel the tears coming. I blinked and held them back. I noticed the guards hard faces still looked emotionless. "Then, I remembered what had happened and why these people looked sad. I remembered the raid and the guards on the horses. I started to sit up but a person with dark skin and big brown eyes said, 'No. Stop and rest. You hit your head badly you need to let it heal.' I slowly laid back down. The man was tall, maybe six foot two or six foot three. He had a thick body, muscular arms and legs, and scar running down the side of his face. I fell back asleep and I didn't wake up until we stopped at the gladiator school."
It was a big, brick building with very few windows. We were taught to fight each other using wooden swords, and blunt iron objects. We trained with an instructor. The instructors were mostly past gladiators who won their freedom in the Gladiator games. They told us of great fights and victories. I heard that once a man had to fight his own brother to the death! Anyway, the training went well. I was better than I thought I would be. Everyone said I was a natural, able to do all the strike attack movements easily. I relaxed and began to enjoy myself until I had my first fight the Colosseum. It was at the end of the fight..." I paused sucking up the tears and recollecting myself.
"I was fighting a bigger man, possibly six foot eight of six foot seven. Had a broad face and a beard and dark blue eyes. And as I said it was at the end of the fight. I lunged my sword straight at his stomach but he blocked it with his shield. He pushed me back with his shield, took a step back and swung a blow at my head, I ducked, took a step to my left, and swung my sword at his wrist. It hit, and blood pulsed out. He dropped his sword in shock and tried to cover the wound. He was defenseless and his life was in my hands. I looked at the emperor; he was contemplating. He stuck his hand out and put a thumb down. The crowd roared. I knew what I had to do. I raised my sword and brought it down on his neck. It was then that the enormity of what I had done hit me. I saw the man laying there; his face pale and his body motionless. I knew that man probably had a family and dreams. And I had ended them with one quick stroke. After that I went crazy thinking of what I did. I didn't want to believe I was a killer but I was. From that moment on, there was always something to remind me of what I had done. I thought about committing suicide, but I could never bring myself to do it. It didn't take long until I knew I had to worn my boy about the games."
"Yes, I was wondering how you could have escaped."
One of them said, "Then I shall tell you."
I said, "It is quite simple actually. I had studied and devised a plan. In the morning I found a rag and wrapped it around my leg. I will tell you why I did this later. I figured out that at mid day the guards would go for their meal. At the same time a man would walk through the barracks giving food to the gladiators through the bars of the cells. The Gladiators had to stick their hands out for the man to give them food. When he saw me sitting in a chair away from the bars he asked me why I wasn't standing at the bars like the others. I told him that my leg was injured and that he would have to come give it to me. I showed him the bandage wrapped around my leg. He took out a key, opened the gate, and walked over to give me the food. When he did, I punched him in the stomach and then slammed his head in the wall. I made sure he was alive, then made a run through the opened gate." I looked at the guards. "I assume someone had to see me, or you wouldn't be here." I said. I looked ahead and saw we were arriving at the Colosseum.
"Killing was not like I had been told. There was no glory, no pride. Instead I felt like a thief. I had taken all that man's hopes and all that man's dreams for nothing. All his dreams had vanished in a flash. And he was innocent.
"I wish I had never killed that man. After it was over, I wished I were the one killed, not him." The guards looked at me strangely then the one in front said, "Well Sonamax, tomorrow you will get your wish!"
I looked at him and whispered, "Thank you."
By ~ Paul
Roman Gladiators ~by Brady
Running down a narrow alley, away from the Roman police, was the baker, Fabricius. He just stolen some money from a merchant. Since his family was poor and he needed the money, in his mind, it was time to take drastic measures. Finally, when the policemen were within reaching distance of the baker, a policeman lunged and took out the legs of the muscular man. He fell to the ground about 100 yards from the bakery. At that moment, the baker lost all hope. The coins scattered everywhere. He was on the ground and the police were on his back, chaining him in shackles. They lifted him up, and drug him to a cell.
Fabricius's family was at the house sitting in front of the fire, wondering where their dad was. What could he be doing? his wife Flora wondered. Julius, his son, began to worry. She walked her son to his room to put him in bed; they said their worried prayers. "Please let daddy come home," prayed Julius. She left the room with many thoughts about her husband floating in her head. Throughout the night, she sat near the fire in hopes of hearing her lost love return. Finally, resting her head on the table, Flora slowly drifted to sleep.
Early the next morning the Roman police stormed into the house, stopping where Flora was lost in sleep. She awoke with a hectic start. Many questions tried to force their way out at the same time, but all that came out was, "Who are you? Where are we? Do you have my husband?" Then Julius woke with a loud a treacherous scream. The woman knew instantly they were taking her child. The crazed woman thought of her son and grabbed the closest vase. She made a break for her son's room, snatching some knives along the way. She spotted a guard in the doorway facing the child. With rage filling her swing, she plunged the knife into the back of guards neck, sending him straight towards the ground. Entering the room, Flora smashed the vase over the guards head who was reaching for her son. Flora was in such a state of anger and fear, she was randomly was picking up objects and hurling them at the guards' heads. Finally, the guards pried the miscellaneous items from her hands and threw her to the floor. Yelling and moaning in pain, she knew she lost. She was about to lose her son as she had lost her husband.
Once they got Flora under control, the guards informed her, "Your husband is in jail for theft."
Immediately she was questioning the guards, "How is this possible? He is an honest man. There must be some mistake?" Inside she wondered, What must he have done?
Without answering her questions, the guards told the Flora she would have to offer up food and taxes for the injuries that were inflicted upon the guards.
Flora nodded. Then she grabbed her son and coat and bolted for the door. Once free from the police, Flora sprinted towards the jail facility. She ran through the market place, bumping into citizens, breaking pots, and running into stands. She was rapidly approaching the facility. Flora sprinted at the speed of wind, dragging Julius behind her. Rounding the last corner, she sped down the final straight away. She finally rushed into the door and calmly demanded to see her husband. She was let to her husband's cell. With one quick glance she knew exactly what was going on. Her husband had chosen to be a gladiator instead of face trial.
Fabricius knew what she was thinking, and it wasn't good. Sitting in a corner of the stone cell, with shackles hanging around his wrist, he could do nothing to convince her that this was the right decision. He was sure it was the best decision, until he thought about his family. How will they ever survive without him running the bakery? As he tried to convince Flore, but she just stood by the bars in shock. And then, unexpectedly, she walked away. She walked away as if she had no more feelings towards her husband. He instantly shot himself against the bars. Fabricius stood up, shook the bars of the cell, and pleaded with his wife to forgive him. Flora stopped walking. With sudden hope and relief, her husband exhaled, but there was a long pause. Then, she carried on and thoughtfully strode out the door, shedding a light, thin stream of tears from both eyes. In a rage, Fabricius screamed and punched the wall. He immediately hit his hands together against the cell wall trying in vain to break free. Blood dripped down his arms to the ends of the lead chains. He knew his life was over. For many hours straight, all he did was pray that his wife would take him back.
After a long painful night, a guard suddenly pounced into the cell where Fabricius was lying down. In a state of shock, Fabricius realized the guard meant business, and with one sudden movement, the guard heaved him up with one arm and carried him away. The guard brought him to a horse drawn wagon. He tossed Fabricius in among many other slaves and crooks.
"What a day," said a black man beside him.
"Yes, what a day," Fabricius replied.
"My name is Accius. I am a prisoner, a slave to the Roman empire, and you?"
"I am named after my father Fabricius. I am here because I robbed an old man for money. After that, I ran away from the police. I led them through town. After a while, though, they caught me and threw me to the ground. I was put in jail, and here I am now."
"Harsh way to live my friend," Accius replied. Nothing was spoken for a long while on their way to the dreaded Colosseum.
Fabricius nodded off and then awoke with a sudden halt of the horse-drawn wagon. Fabricius took a glance at the new environment. There was so much going on that his brain could not comprehend most of it. When his gaze returned to the cart, he realized that Accius was being taken away by guards. Fabricius' instinct was to run after him and assist, but he knew he would be in far more danger then he was now. When his attention was focused on Accius, a guard crept up behind him and threw a chain around Fabricius' neck. After a struggle to break free, Fabricius grew very weak, and within seconds, he was out cold, limp and lifeless.
Fabricius regained consciousness with a start. He was in a room that was cold, dark, and covered in dry dirt. The room resembled the cell that he had been in recently. However, there were no bars or locks. He was wondering how long it had been since he was put in the room. What time is it? What day is it? Then he remembered Accius and his attack. Where is Accuis now? he wondered. Fabricius tried to get up, but noticed it was hard to breathe. He unsteadily reached his arms up to his neck, and felt deep indents in his neck. A shock of remembrance ran through his head, and now his head was filled with a lot of different thoughts. Memories flooded his mind; he had been choked. Despite the pain, he knew had to try to find Accius. He had to help him.
He stood up with a grunt, and it wasn't too long before he was surprised again. Almost instantly, he felt pressure in his stomach. Curious, he lifted up his shirt and found deep red marks resembling the ones on his neck. Fabricius began to panic and hyperventilate. This made him cough violently, and within seconds he was choking on his own blood. With blood dripping from his mouth, he moaned in agony. Cough after cough came, and he was choking up more and more blood. For a split second, Fabricius thought he was dying. He couldn't tell how much blood he had lost. Over a period of time, his vision started to blur. Before he knew it he was laying on the ground again. Out cold.
Fabricius woke to the sound of a beating outside his room. He heard a familiar voice; it was Accius. His friend was getting a licking and it seemed that he couldn't do anything about it. While listening to Accius scream in terror, he tried to make his way to the door that was slightly ajar. As he was moving to the door, he collapsed. He was in agony, lying on the ground, but he knew he had to help Accius. Fabricius got up, adrenaline racing through his body. He slipped through the door, but he was too late. There was Accius lying on the floor of his room, across the hall from Fabricius. He was covered in blood. It was hard to imagine that his friend had been beaten so closely to him. Am I next? he wondered. He crouched down and put his ear to Accius's chest, listening for a heart beat or his breathing. Accius spoke in a quiet, rough voice, "Help me, please."
Immediately, Fabricius dragged him into his room and shut the door. Fabricius vowed to protect Accius through times helplessness and despair. Everything was silent but the crying of Fabricius. Accius leaned toward Fabricius and said, "you are a good friend. If you carry on throughout your life like this you will succeed." Accius' head grew limp and gently rolled back. He was asleep but his eyes were still opened. Fabricius knew his friend had passed away.
~By Brady
Fabricius's family was at the house sitting in front of the fire, wondering where their dad was. What could he be doing? his wife Flora wondered. Julius, his son, began to worry. She walked her son to his room to put him in bed; they said their worried prayers. "Please let daddy come home," prayed Julius. She left the room with many thoughts about her husband floating in her head. Throughout the night, she sat near the fire in hopes of hearing her lost love return. Finally, resting her head on the table, Flora slowly drifted to sleep.
Early the next morning the Roman police stormed into the house, stopping where Flora was lost in sleep. She awoke with a hectic start. Many questions tried to force their way out at the same time, but all that came out was, "Who are you? Where are we? Do you have my husband?" Then Julius woke with a loud a treacherous scream. The woman knew instantly they were taking her child. The crazed woman thought of her son and grabbed the closest vase. She made a break for her son's room, snatching some knives along the way. She spotted a guard in the doorway facing the child. With rage filling her swing, she plunged the knife into the back of guards neck, sending him straight towards the ground. Entering the room, Flora smashed the vase over the guards head who was reaching for her son. Flora was in such a state of anger and fear, she was randomly was picking up objects and hurling them at the guards' heads. Finally, the guards pried the miscellaneous items from her hands and threw her to the floor. Yelling and moaning in pain, she knew she lost. She was about to lose her son as she had lost her husband.
Once they got Flora under control, the guards informed her, "Your husband is in jail for theft."
Immediately she was questioning the guards, "How is this possible? He is an honest man. There must be some mistake?" Inside she wondered, What must he have done?
Without answering her questions, the guards told the Flora she would have to offer up food and taxes for the injuries that were inflicted upon the guards.
Flora nodded. Then she grabbed her son and coat and bolted for the door. Once free from the police, Flora sprinted towards the jail facility. She ran through the market place, bumping into citizens, breaking pots, and running into stands. She was rapidly approaching the facility. Flora sprinted at the speed of wind, dragging Julius behind her. Rounding the last corner, she sped down the final straight away. She finally rushed into the door and calmly demanded to see her husband. She was let to her husband's cell. With one quick glance she knew exactly what was going on. Her husband had chosen to be a gladiator instead of face trial.
Fabricius knew what she was thinking, and it wasn't good. Sitting in a corner of the stone cell, with shackles hanging around his wrist, he could do nothing to convince her that this was the right decision. He was sure it was the best decision, until he thought about his family. How will they ever survive without him running the bakery? As he tried to convince Flore, but she just stood by the bars in shock. And then, unexpectedly, she walked away. She walked away as if she had no more feelings towards her husband. He instantly shot himself against the bars. Fabricius stood up, shook the bars of the cell, and pleaded with his wife to forgive him. Flora stopped walking. With sudden hope and relief, her husband exhaled, but there was a long pause. Then, she carried on and thoughtfully strode out the door, shedding a light, thin stream of tears from both eyes. In a rage, Fabricius screamed and punched the wall. He immediately hit his hands together against the cell wall trying in vain to break free. Blood dripped down his arms to the ends of the lead chains. He knew his life was over. For many hours straight, all he did was pray that his wife would take him back.
After a long painful night, a guard suddenly pounced into the cell where Fabricius was lying down. In a state of shock, Fabricius realized the guard meant business, and with one sudden movement, the guard heaved him up with one arm and carried him away. The guard brought him to a horse drawn wagon. He tossed Fabricius in among many other slaves and crooks.
"What a day," said a black man beside him.
"Yes, what a day," Fabricius replied.
"My name is Accius. I am a prisoner, a slave to the Roman empire, and you?"
"I am named after my father Fabricius. I am here because I robbed an old man for money. After that, I ran away from the police. I led them through town. After a while, though, they caught me and threw me to the ground. I was put in jail, and here I am now."
"Harsh way to live my friend," Accius replied. Nothing was spoken for a long while on their way to the dreaded Colosseum.
Fabricius nodded off and then awoke with a sudden halt of the horse-drawn wagon. Fabricius took a glance at the new environment. There was so much going on that his brain could not comprehend most of it. When his gaze returned to the cart, he realized that Accius was being taken away by guards. Fabricius' instinct was to run after him and assist, but he knew he would be in far more danger then he was now. When his attention was focused on Accius, a guard crept up behind him and threw a chain around Fabricius' neck. After a struggle to break free, Fabricius grew very weak, and within seconds, he was out cold, limp and lifeless.
Fabricius regained consciousness with a start. He was in a room that was cold, dark, and covered in dry dirt. The room resembled the cell that he had been in recently. However, there were no bars or locks. He was wondering how long it had been since he was put in the room. What time is it? What day is it? Then he remembered Accius and his attack. Where is Accuis now? he wondered. Fabricius tried to get up, but noticed it was hard to breathe. He unsteadily reached his arms up to his neck, and felt deep indents in his neck. A shock of remembrance ran through his head, and now his head was filled with a lot of different thoughts. Memories flooded his mind; he had been choked. Despite the pain, he knew had to try to find Accius. He had to help him.
He stood up with a grunt, and it wasn't too long before he was surprised again. Almost instantly, he felt pressure in his stomach. Curious, he lifted up his shirt and found deep red marks resembling the ones on his neck. Fabricius began to panic and hyperventilate. This made him cough violently, and within seconds he was choking on his own blood. With blood dripping from his mouth, he moaned in agony. Cough after cough came, and he was choking up more and more blood. For a split second, Fabricius thought he was dying. He couldn't tell how much blood he had lost. Over a period of time, his vision started to blur. Before he knew it he was laying on the ground again. Out cold.
Fabricius woke to the sound of a beating outside his room. He heard a familiar voice; it was Accius. His friend was getting a licking and it seemed that he couldn't do anything about it. While listening to Accius scream in terror, he tried to make his way to the door that was slightly ajar. As he was moving to the door, he collapsed. He was in agony, lying on the ground, but he knew he had to help Accius. Fabricius got up, adrenaline racing through his body. He slipped through the door, but he was too late. There was Accius lying on the floor of his room, across the hall from Fabricius. He was covered in blood. It was hard to imagine that his friend had been beaten so closely to him. Am I next? he wondered. He crouched down and put his ear to Accius's chest, listening for a heart beat or his breathing. Accius spoke in a quiet, rough voice, "Help me, please."
Immediately, Fabricius dragged him into his room and shut the door. Fabricius vowed to protect Accius through times helplessness and despair. Everything was silent but the crying of Fabricius. Accius leaned toward Fabricius and said, "you are a good friend. If you carry on throughout your life like this you will succeed." Accius' head grew limp and gently rolled back. He was asleep but his eyes were still opened. Fabricius knew his friend had passed away.
~By Brady
Olympic Dreams ~ by Melissa
My Plan:
Throughout my life, I've been very observant. I watch and I learn from the people I look up to. My life plan was simple let them figure it out and I would copy. This created a habit that I called "Note to Self," which meant that I recorded important information that I might use later.
My Dream:
Get ready! Get set! Go! The shot went off in my head. I ran, ran, ran until I was flying; I was free; I was invincible. The hot Greek summer sun snaked around my body. The hard earth underneath my feet was trailing along with me on my race. This is the best time of my life. I have been on this earth for 13 and a half years now, and I have been to the Olympic games for as long as I remember. It is the very beginning of the second century A.D., and I am free as a bird. That day will be a special day.
Olympics, 200 AD:
"Runners, on your mark!" I made it. "Get set!" Here it comes. "GO!" I can't believe I'm at the Olympic games, I thought to myself, preparing for a great event.
Five athletes, one winner and four losers, sprinted away from the line. In the lead was the most famous athlete. He had won most of the competitions during the last week. He thought he was a big shot and flexed his muscles for the women. He was so big and muscular, and just by the look on his face, you could tell that he only cared about himself. In second place was the other hot shot. He had won first place in one of the games and second, third and fourth in the other games. He was a clear contender for this race. In third place was the guy who really, really wanted to win. He had a very concentrated expression on his face. He was shorter than the others but just as strong.
As I watched the race, I saw different expressions. Some were on the prize, while others were filled with determination. Some were actually angry. I watched as they started the race. Some flew out of the starting blocks, while others took it nice and easy. Only few kept a pace, others thought that by going faster and faster they would make it. Should they really make it after starting fast and ending slow? Or just the opposite. Everyone started slowing down, one by one. The person who started out in last place, was now in the lead by what I guessed was two feet. One by one their expressions changed from wanting to win, to the expression of a mother lion preotecting her baby. The lead runner was almost to cross the finish line; he was so close... then, the runner in fifth place threw his boney yet muscular arms out to the side and went past the other runners to reach the finish line first. The crowd went wild. Who would have guessed that he would have won the race? The person no one suspected would win, won.
Note to self: start out slow then speed up to reach victory.
"Venus!" I knew that voice, that voice that I had heard my whole life.
"Father!" I ran to him. My father was the Olympic Game coordinator so he got to put the games and activities together.
Note to Self: You never have to, you always get to.
"Venus, did you enjoy the race? " father asked.
"I loved it! I would never have guessed that Leonidas would be the winner of the race -"
I was interrupted by my Father's best friend and working partner, Uncle Jonathan. He had black, sleek looking hair and was tall and strong.
"Robert, so glad to see you! Oh, hello, Venus." Uncle Jonathan patted me on the head and turned his attention back to Father. " We need you down by the finish line to congratulate Leonidas. We need you right now!" He looked at me, "Wasn't that race exciting? I knew that kid would win. That's a great strategy!"
Father turned to me with an expression that said, Sorry honey. I'll catch you at dinner. I love you. I knew that he was a very busy man. Sometimes he was forced to go and do his job when he would much rather be spending time with his family. Uncle Jonathan was always, and I mean always, busy. He was only free on weekends when the family had picnics. We all knew the games and embraced the Greek sun, and the Emperor wanted them to be good.
I started to look around for anyone I knew, but the crowd was so thick it was like looking for a piece of straw in a hay stack. I walked around a corner to see what else was going on. That was when I I saw all of the contestants who had been beated. Their good sportsmanship had all but disappeared as they kicked at the dirt, complained, and threw their things around.
Note to self: Everyone who loses in an event of any kind will be very mad. You can tell what people are like if they throw a huge fit in public or if they wait to be alone. Good Sportsmanship is an important trait.
To the crowd and their families, the "losers" were saying it wasn't a big deal and there was always next year. If their eyes hadn't been filled with anger and defeat, I would have believed them. But alone, they seemed to be mourning their missed shot at victory.
"Venus!" I was startled. Who could be calling my name? How could they even find me? I turned in all directions and then finally saw a familiar skinny, muscular, tall body. It was my best friend Zues. Our parents had known each other even before we were born. We were next door neighbors, so we got to spend a lot of time together. Zuess was older and taller, but not faster than me. We always competed with each other in running races, and I always won. He came closer and stood directly in front of me. "Where were you? One second you say we can sit together, and the next thing I know you are running almost as fast as the racers." I blushed and turned pure red. Could he see that? I thought I was only running in my dreams.
"Oh, you saw that?" I blushed even more. "Did you enjoy the race?" I wanted to change the subject fast.
"It was awesome! It would have been a lot more awesome if you were with us. I was amazed when Leonidas won!"
"Same here," I knew that everyone would be saying that for a while, a shock it was to everyone.
"What a strategy! Oh, I saw your 'Uncle'," Zuess used air quotations. He knows pretty much everything about me - even how I think about my uncle. "He looked very buisy. He said hi to me though. He stopped me, looked me in the eyes and said that someday I could be the winner."
Note to Self: Winners always need someone to believe in them first.
"Oh please, I could outrun you in a heartbea!." I didn't mean to brag, but it was the truth. I hoped that he wasn't hurt.
"Well, bring it on! I can beat you to the VIP arena."
" Oh, you're so on!" We started to run. We ran, ran, ran, ran, and ran....
We spent the next four years running. It was 4 years since the last Olympic games, since I ran with the racers. It had been four years of practicing my come from behind strategy. Four years since my dream. And during those four years, my dream of becoming an Olympic athlete has become so large it is like a sponge absorbing every ounce of water.
I have become taller; I have grown more in every way. What has grown the most is my passion for racing and my love for running. Olympia, Greece was still hot, sunny and welcoming. I wouldn't wait for the Olympics; they were two weeks away. I walked into the sun room and sat down on the long sun chair. Shall I read something about love, sports, or.... I couldn't help myself but I driffted into a daydream.
I was running and living an even more lovely life than I have. I seemed to be running toward a big house. Is that my house, I wondered. I am a star runner, and there is a man. He looks like a boy, but he looks handsome. No, he is more of a man. Who is this? Is he my husband? Suddenly in my heart I know that it is. He was about to turn around...and I am about to see his face.....
A faint voice suddenly got louder and louder, interrupting the moment. Then, I noticed it was my mother, breaking me free of my dream. Disappointed I opened my eyes.
Note to Self: Run faster in my dreams!
" Venus. There you are. Dinner needs to be prepared." My mother has always been beautiful. She was nearly 38 years old and still elegant.
" Okay, mother. I'll be there in a second." I tried to imagine his face but I couldn't get it back into my head. Frustrated, I got up to help with dinner.
Later that night, Zuess and I raced through the fields. "How can you do that?" Zuess was tring to catch up to me. He was very shocked just like every race when I beat him.
"I just have skill!" We were walking on the mountain by our favorite childhood hiding place that over looked the Medeterrianean Sea. It was nice and warm. This was the place where we could talk without anyone hearing. This was the place we shared our dreams.
There was an evening breeze, and I was wrapped up in a blanket, my long, brown, wavey hair blowing in every direction with the breeze. In sync, we slivered up the tall oak tree, like snakes slithering up a human body. I sat down on a branch that over ooked the ocean and inhaled the sweet salty sent of the summer sea. I didn't want to break this silence, yet I wanted to connect.
I was about to speak, but he beat me to it and his voice was so soft, deeper and more mature than last year. "So, how have you been Venus?" It surprised me as he rarely said my name. I noticed that I was feeling fidgeting, strange.
Note to Self: Sometimes things change with boys, the older they get the more they want to be mature.
"Good, I have been learning how to do housework, knitting, pot making, time keeping and some more running." I decided not to tell him about my dream. "What about you?"
"Um," he stuttered. I knew Zuess had something to tell me, something that I wasn't going to want to hear. "I have been fantastic actually. I have been learning how to hunt and build." His face was becoming sad. His smile faded and his face was turning depressed. I was nervous and my heart became a train, going faster and faster each beat. "I haven't wanted to tell you this, but...I don't want to lie to you anymore. For the past year, I have been training for the olympics. Under the running category. Your father and your uncle think I am going to be great this year. "
My heart shattered into microscopic pieces. I had to be brave, but I was too stunned, too jealous, too angry. I could not keep it together, especially in front of my best friend. I took a breath that seemed to come from the bottom of the ocean. "Wow. I am, proud of you," I couldn't find the right words to say. "That's amazing. You really deserve it. You have become an outstanding runner." I looked at the sky. It was as if the gods heard me and the sky turned gray.
"You know I owe it all to you. Without our races..."
"You really deserve it," I said again. My voice betrayed me. I was about to cry and we both knew it.
"You should be getting home. Me, too. I have to train tomorrow." Zuess was acting like a brave man but before he could get something over to me to protect me from my pain, I started to run. It was a sudden jog, and Zuess caught up to me quickly. He even ran a little further than I did, but as the lighting struck I ran faster than he did. I made it to my yard and took a moment to cool down, I felt the light rain become heavy rain and the rain soaked me. I watched as he ran toward me, something familiar stirring in my stomach.
"I like your style. You are a better runner. I still have a lot to learn from you." Zuess was humble as he ran off toward his house.
I climbed up the vines to the top floor where my bedroom was. I climbed in and immediatley went to my bathroom. I took of my clothes and wrapped a warm cream-colored towel around my skinny body and my developed chest. It was so warm and so comforting. It wasn't until I got to my dresser to put on my pajamas that I realized that my best friend, the boy across the street, the boy who I grew up with, the boy who is slower than me was now living my dream. He would be in the summer olympics in just two weeks. My anger began to boil. My hands were shaking and tears were sliding down my face. He was going to run in the Olympics, and I wouldn't be. I couldn't. My dream was not even a reality. But why? Why couldn't I?
NOTE TO SELF: Don't let others create your reality.
I turned for the door and jumped down the stairs very confidently, sliding down the silky wood rail. Mother and Father were in the kitchen, and I was ready to ask them - demand to know - why girls couldn't run in the olympics.
" Good evening Venus," Mother spoke with a soft lullaby tone to her voice. Her voice took me into a sleep trance, as if I were a baby. After the sudden silence, I came back to earth and was determind to get some answers.
" Good evening Mother and Father. I want to run in the Olympics?" I meant for it to be a demand, but I was unsure about my words and it came out as a question.
They looked at each other like there was something that they have never told me, and there was. Father answered, "I've always loved your passion about the Olympics. But, you know the Olympics are very important to MEN. The running and sports help us to determine who is the strongest and bravest, " To me, it seemed like he was going on and on.
The only response I could think of without making this longer than it should be is, "Yes."
"Do you ever see any women in the stands during in the olympics?" Mother was calm, but not as calm as it was before.
I still didn't want to make this drag on so I just said what I knew, "No." We were silent but I bet my face was turning blank.
"Well, it is against the rules of the Olympic Games for women to be watching the olympic games if they are married," Dad reminded me of this rule. I was nearing the time when I would no longer be able to even watch the games. "If woman cannot even watch the games, you know that it is against the rules for women to race in the olympic games."
My heart shattered for the second time that day. We stood still for what seemed like forever when I finally gave up and tears started filling my eyes and weakly I spoke.
" Never?" I couldn't help but starting to cry.
"Never." My mother and father spoke in union.
Not only had my best friend been chosen to race in the Olympic games, stealing away my dream. My parents had finally shattered it. I would never be in the Olympic games. I ran upstairs and into my room. I closed the door behind me trying to make it as silent as possible, but I was sure Mother and Father heard it. I leaped to my bed and started to cry. I began to sob. It was like having my baby being taken from me by someone I loved only to slaughtered it. A puddle was forming on my pillow, but I didn't care. All I wanted was to run. I cried until I fell into a fitful sleep.
I had a dream that night that I was racing in the Olympics without a care in the world. And when I woke up the next day, I knew that was my mission.
NOTE TO SELF: It's good to have a mission.
"Venus, could you please go get some fresh water from the well?" Mother was washing the floors.
"Of course, mother. " I grabbed the bucket and left. I was now on my mission to the garden. Father, Uncle Jonathan, and a few of their emplyee's were in the garden talking about the Olympics, which were one week away. I lingered along into the garden and went to the well, slowly attached the bucket to the string, and lowered the carrier into the water.
"The celebration meal will be held at the stadium, but who will be the cook?" I couldn't help but overhearing what they were saying. (I hadn't planned on listening to their conversation, so you can't call it eavesdropping!)
"In the market there is the best restaurant. They have cooked for us before and they are amazing! It's just by the south fruit place and they are true Greek cooks." Father had showed me that restaurant before, and they were amazing chefs. Two summers ago, Zuess and I would saved up our money and buy a frozen treat to quench our need of a cold treat. Feeling nervous about listening, I swiftly moved back into the house and handed mother the bucket, then I grabbed a tray of sandwiches for the men. This was my time to complete my task. I moved like a dancer through the garden, waving all of the bugs away so they wouldn't attack the penutbutter and honey sandwiches. I finally reached the table and gently put the tray down.
"Thank you Venus." Father cheered. I could tell that they were all very hungary after all of that work. I smiled then waited because they would have to make small talk with me if I was just standing there.
"So how is your summer treating you Venus?" Uncle Jonathan looked eager to get back to work, but he was being polite.
"Great," I needed to get to the chase fast. This was my only time. " So, how are the preperation coming?"
"Okay, we are having some difficulties but that is just how work is." Father loved taking time to talk to me. I loved that about him. They started turning around from me to get back to work, then that was the time I had to say it.
"Are there any surprise racers in these Olympics games?" I know it sounded to eager, but they really don't know my plan so I was safe, or at least I thought I was.
"Not yet, but there are always surprised at the starting line!" Father looked at me strangely and then returned to his work.
"Zuess is coming along! I predict he will have a fine showing in his first Olympic games," Uncle Jonathan looked very different then he had any other time I had seen him. He seemed excited, proud. It was like he had discovered Zuess himself.
"I just wish women were allowed into the Olympics," I said as I turned to walk away, "then there would a race!" I smiled as I left them speechless.
" Women in the Olympics?" one of the other men asked.
They were silent for a while then Uncle Jonathan decided to speak. "Women in the Olympics?! That is the most uneducated thing I have ever heard anyone say. Women can't run! They can't race!"
I froze. Anger was growing.
"No women should ever even think about that. Women just need to stay home and cook, clean and stay silent. I don't even like how women are getting an education. It is quite annoying for men who need to go to collage, women are just stealing everything," he continued.
I was still in shock. Who would say that? Was this the person I have always known? Or had he been wearing a mask for all of those years? Furious, I stormed away.
"You've got that right," one of the men said. Father spoke up finally, changing the subject and getting people focused on their work again. I could tell he felt badly for me, but he didn't know my plan. I was now on another mission. I was determind to show him and the other men at that table who would an Olympic winner. The Olympics were two weeks away, and I had a lot of training to do.
Olympics, 204 AD:
Get ready! Get set! Go! The shot went off in my head. I ran, ran, ran until I was flying; I was free; I was invincible. The hot Greek summer sun snaked around my body. The hard earth underneath my feet was trailing along with me on my race. This is the best time of my life. I have been on this earth for 13 and a half years now, and I have been to the Olympic games for as long as I remember. I am free as a bird. That day will be a special day.
I walked out of the athletes room ready to prove Greece wrong. I was for sure though that they would recognize me by my face and body structure, but I guess I didn't fool anyone. I walked out with four other men, including Zuess. The men and Zuess wore a diper type bottom and that was it. I on the other hand wore a type of man dress. I had wrapped my chest with cloth so that I didn't blow my cover. I wrapped my hair up and put it in a hat. I really looked like a man. I even dirtied my self up a little bit.
"Contestants, to the starting line." Almost there. " Get ready," I was ready. " Get set," I was surely set. " GO!" Everyone dashed from the line except for me and Zuess. Has he been watching me everytime we raced? Of course he did, he was fasinated by my skill level. I was the last one and I was following everyone else. It looked like I needed to catch up big time, but I knew it could get in front. Faster and faster everybody went except for Zuess and I. I really wanted him to win, but I was the one in this race. The first three started to slow down, now it was me against Zuess. I started going faster picking up all of that energy. I knew he could sence me and sped up, but before he knew it I was in front of him. He looked stunned but I wasn't suprised. He tried to keep up, but he was too slow for me. The finish line was three feet away. I spread my arms out and I split through the ribbon. The crowd was shocked and yet they went wild. I could hear the others behind me and they finished the reace two. In the backround I could hear Jonathan kicking and screaming. He thought that Zuess would win, and I bet he had bet a lot of money on him. It was the perfect timing to show who had really won. Gently getting everyones attention, I faced my face to the sun light and un vailed my hat and my long brown hair drapped around my manly looking body. Everyone who was watching, even the animals, dirt, rocks, and other contestants gasped so loud that the loudness could cause and earthquake.
" Disquallified!" Jonathan rushed over to us. I had a seriouse look on my face because I knew I could out wit him. I could even see my father in the corner of my eye standing there frozen.
" I am not!" I was wanting to make a statement with this.
" Yes you are! Women are just silent creatures that should never, ever particapate in a sporting event! They shouldn't even be allowed to get an education!" The crowed gasped again. I wasn't supprised at all though. In his eyes, you could tell he wanted to take back those words.
"You know what Jonathan," I had thought about this moment my whole life. I have even dreamed about doing this, and I knew that the gods were on my side.
Note to self: When you know something will happen, think about what you will say so you are prepared to win a battle with words.
"Women have every right in the world to do what ever they want." I knew that this would throw him off and it did. He was silent then moved away. How could an adult man be afraid of a fourteen year old girl? I felt I had power. The crowd started cheering again and I felt fantastic, and I had forgotton that Zuess was watching all of this time. I turned to him then he took two steps to me then pulled me to him and gave me a kiss. My first kiss from my best friend, which was know my love.
"You are amazing," He towered me, but I felt comfort. "I tried to do what you do, but you always do it best." We hugged and just stood there while the crowd went even more nuts.
"Today, I got to live my dream, and I have always wanted to share it with my best friend." I gave him another kiss and at that moment I had begun the rest of my life.
Note to self: Everyone can dream, but the ones who follow them are the ones with the power.
Throughout my life, I've been very observant. I watch and I learn from the people I look up to. My life plan was simple let them figure it out and I would copy. This created a habit that I called "Note to Self," which meant that I recorded important information that I might use later.
My Dream:
Get ready! Get set! Go! The shot went off in my head. I ran, ran, ran until I was flying; I was free; I was invincible. The hot Greek summer sun snaked around my body. The hard earth underneath my feet was trailing along with me on my race. This is the best time of my life. I have been on this earth for 13 and a half years now, and I have been to the Olympic games for as long as I remember. It is the very beginning of the second century A.D., and I am free as a bird. That day will be a special day.
Olympics, 200 AD:
"Runners, on your mark!" I made it. "Get set!" Here it comes. "GO!" I can't believe I'm at the Olympic games, I thought to myself, preparing for a great event.
Five athletes, one winner and four losers, sprinted away from the line. In the lead was the most famous athlete. He had won most of the competitions during the last week. He thought he was a big shot and flexed his muscles for the women. He was so big and muscular, and just by the look on his face, you could tell that he only cared about himself. In second place was the other hot shot. He had won first place in one of the games and second, third and fourth in the other games. He was a clear contender for this race. In third place was the guy who really, really wanted to win. He had a very concentrated expression on his face. He was shorter than the others but just as strong.
As I watched the race, I saw different expressions. Some were on the prize, while others were filled with determination. Some were actually angry. I watched as they started the race. Some flew out of the starting blocks, while others took it nice and easy. Only few kept a pace, others thought that by going faster and faster they would make it. Should they really make it after starting fast and ending slow? Or just the opposite. Everyone started slowing down, one by one. The person who started out in last place, was now in the lead by what I guessed was two feet. One by one their expressions changed from wanting to win, to the expression of a mother lion preotecting her baby. The lead runner was almost to cross the finish line; he was so close... then, the runner in fifth place threw his boney yet muscular arms out to the side and went past the other runners to reach the finish line first. The crowd went wild. Who would have guessed that he would have won the race? The person no one suspected would win, won.
Note to self: start out slow then speed up to reach victory.
"Venus!" I knew that voice, that voice that I had heard my whole life.
"Father!" I ran to him. My father was the Olympic Game coordinator so he got to put the games and activities together.
Note to Self: You never have to, you always get to.
"Venus, did you enjoy the race? " father asked.
"I loved it! I would never have guessed that Leonidas would be the winner of the race -"
I was interrupted by my Father's best friend and working partner, Uncle Jonathan. He had black, sleek looking hair and was tall and strong.
"Robert, so glad to see you! Oh, hello, Venus." Uncle Jonathan patted me on the head and turned his attention back to Father. " We need you down by the finish line to congratulate Leonidas. We need you right now!" He looked at me, "Wasn't that race exciting? I knew that kid would win. That's a great strategy!"
Father turned to me with an expression that said, Sorry honey. I'll catch you at dinner. I love you. I knew that he was a very busy man. Sometimes he was forced to go and do his job when he would much rather be spending time with his family. Uncle Jonathan was always, and I mean always, busy. He was only free on weekends when the family had picnics. We all knew the games and embraced the Greek sun, and the Emperor wanted them to be good.
I started to look around for anyone I knew, but the crowd was so thick it was like looking for a piece of straw in a hay stack. I walked around a corner to see what else was going on. That was when I I saw all of the contestants who had been beated. Their good sportsmanship had all but disappeared as they kicked at the dirt, complained, and threw their things around.
Note to self: Everyone who loses in an event of any kind will be very mad. You can tell what people are like if they throw a huge fit in public or if they wait to be alone. Good Sportsmanship is an important trait.
To the crowd and their families, the "losers" were saying it wasn't a big deal and there was always next year. If their eyes hadn't been filled with anger and defeat, I would have believed them. But alone, they seemed to be mourning their missed shot at victory.
"Venus!" I was startled. Who could be calling my name? How could they even find me? I turned in all directions and then finally saw a familiar skinny, muscular, tall body. It was my best friend Zues. Our parents had known each other even before we were born. We were next door neighbors, so we got to spend a lot of time together. Zuess was older and taller, but not faster than me. We always competed with each other in running races, and I always won. He came closer and stood directly in front of me. "Where were you? One second you say we can sit together, and the next thing I know you are running almost as fast as the racers." I blushed and turned pure red. Could he see that? I thought I was only running in my dreams.
"Oh, you saw that?" I blushed even more. "Did you enjoy the race?" I wanted to change the subject fast.
"It was awesome! It would have been a lot more awesome if you were with us. I was amazed when Leonidas won!"
"Same here," I knew that everyone would be saying that for a while, a shock it was to everyone.
"What a strategy! Oh, I saw your 'Uncle'," Zuess used air quotations. He knows pretty much everything about me - even how I think about my uncle. "He looked very buisy. He said hi to me though. He stopped me, looked me in the eyes and said that someday I could be the winner."
Note to Self: Winners always need someone to believe in them first.
"Oh please, I could outrun you in a heartbea!." I didn't mean to brag, but it was the truth. I hoped that he wasn't hurt.
"Well, bring it on! I can beat you to the VIP arena."
" Oh, you're so on!" We started to run. We ran, ran, ran, ran, and ran....
We spent the next four years running. It was 4 years since the last Olympic games, since I ran with the racers. It had been four years of practicing my come from behind strategy. Four years since my dream. And during those four years, my dream of becoming an Olympic athlete has become so large it is like a sponge absorbing every ounce of water.
I have become taller; I have grown more in every way. What has grown the most is my passion for racing and my love for running. Olympia, Greece was still hot, sunny and welcoming. I wouldn't wait for the Olympics; they were two weeks away. I walked into the sun room and sat down on the long sun chair. Shall I read something about love, sports, or.... I couldn't help myself but I driffted into a daydream.
I was running and living an even more lovely life than I have. I seemed to be running toward a big house. Is that my house, I wondered. I am a star runner, and there is a man. He looks like a boy, but he looks handsome. No, he is more of a man. Who is this? Is he my husband? Suddenly in my heart I know that it is. He was about to turn around...and I am about to see his face.....
A faint voice suddenly got louder and louder, interrupting the moment. Then, I noticed it was my mother, breaking me free of my dream. Disappointed I opened my eyes.
Note to Self: Run faster in my dreams!
" Venus. There you are. Dinner needs to be prepared." My mother has always been beautiful. She was nearly 38 years old and still elegant.
" Okay, mother. I'll be there in a second." I tried to imagine his face but I couldn't get it back into my head. Frustrated, I got up to help with dinner.
Later that night, Zuess and I raced through the fields. "How can you do that?" Zuess was tring to catch up to me. He was very shocked just like every race when I beat him.
"I just have skill!" We were walking on the mountain by our favorite childhood hiding place that over looked the Medeterrianean Sea. It was nice and warm. This was the place where we could talk without anyone hearing. This was the place we shared our dreams.
There was an evening breeze, and I was wrapped up in a blanket, my long, brown, wavey hair blowing in every direction with the breeze. In sync, we slivered up the tall oak tree, like snakes slithering up a human body. I sat down on a branch that over ooked the ocean and inhaled the sweet salty sent of the summer sea. I didn't want to break this silence, yet I wanted to connect.
I was about to speak, but he beat me to it and his voice was so soft, deeper and more mature than last year. "So, how have you been Venus?" It surprised me as he rarely said my name. I noticed that I was feeling fidgeting, strange.
Note to Self: Sometimes things change with boys, the older they get the more they want to be mature.
"Good, I have been learning how to do housework, knitting, pot making, time keeping and some more running." I decided not to tell him about my dream. "What about you?"
"Um," he stuttered. I knew Zuess had something to tell me, something that I wasn't going to want to hear. "I have been fantastic actually. I have been learning how to hunt and build." His face was becoming sad. His smile faded and his face was turning depressed. I was nervous and my heart became a train, going faster and faster each beat. "I haven't wanted to tell you this, but...I don't want to lie to you anymore. For the past year, I have been training for the olympics. Under the running category. Your father and your uncle think I am going to be great this year. "
My heart shattered into microscopic pieces. I had to be brave, but I was too stunned, too jealous, too angry. I could not keep it together, especially in front of my best friend. I took a breath that seemed to come from the bottom of the ocean. "Wow. I am, proud of you," I couldn't find the right words to say. "That's amazing. You really deserve it. You have become an outstanding runner." I looked at the sky. It was as if the gods heard me and the sky turned gray.
"You know I owe it all to you. Without our races..."
"You really deserve it," I said again. My voice betrayed me. I was about to cry and we both knew it.
"You should be getting home. Me, too. I have to train tomorrow." Zuess was acting like a brave man but before he could get something over to me to protect me from my pain, I started to run. It was a sudden jog, and Zuess caught up to me quickly. He even ran a little further than I did, but as the lighting struck I ran faster than he did. I made it to my yard and took a moment to cool down, I felt the light rain become heavy rain and the rain soaked me. I watched as he ran toward me, something familiar stirring in my stomach.
"I like your style. You are a better runner. I still have a lot to learn from you." Zuess was humble as he ran off toward his house.
I climbed up the vines to the top floor where my bedroom was. I climbed in and immediatley went to my bathroom. I took of my clothes and wrapped a warm cream-colored towel around my skinny body and my developed chest. It was so warm and so comforting. It wasn't until I got to my dresser to put on my pajamas that I realized that my best friend, the boy across the street, the boy who I grew up with, the boy who is slower than me was now living my dream. He would be in the summer olympics in just two weeks. My anger began to boil. My hands were shaking and tears were sliding down my face. He was going to run in the Olympics, and I wouldn't be. I couldn't. My dream was not even a reality. But why? Why couldn't I?
NOTE TO SELF: Don't let others create your reality.
I turned for the door and jumped down the stairs very confidently, sliding down the silky wood rail. Mother and Father were in the kitchen, and I was ready to ask them - demand to know - why girls couldn't run in the olympics.
" Good evening Venus," Mother spoke with a soft lullaby tone to her voice. Her voice took me into a sleep trance, as if I were a baby. After the sudden silence, I came back to earth and was determind to get some answers.
" Good evening Mother and Father. I want to run in the Olympics?" I meant for it to be a demand, but I was unsure about my words and it came out as a question.
They looked at each other like there was something that they have never told me, and there was. Father answered, "I've always loved your passion about the Olympics. But, you know the Olympics are very important to MEN. The running and sports help us to determine who is the strongest and bravest, " To me, it seemed like he was going on and on.
The only response I could think of without making this longer than it should be is, "Yes."
"Do you ever see any women in the stands during in the olympics?" Mother was calm, but not as calm as it was before.
I still didn't want to make this drag on so I just said what I knew, "No." We were silent but I bet my face was turning blank.
"Well, it is against the rules of the Olympic Games for women to be watching the olympic games if they are married," Dad reminded me of this rule. I was nearing the time when I would no longer be able to even watch the games. "If woman cannot even watch the games, you know that it is against the rules for women to race in the olympic games."
My heart shattered for the second time that day. We stood still for what seemed like forever when I finally gave up and tears started filling my eyes and weakly I spoke.
" Never?" I couldn't help but starting to cry.
"Never." My mother and father spoke in union.
Not only had my best friend been chosen to race in the Olympic games, stealing away my dream. My parents had finally shattered it. I would never be in the Olympic games. I ran upstairs and into my room. I closed the door behind me trying to make it as silent as possible, but I was sure Mother and Father heard it. I leaped to my bed and started to cry. I began to sob. It was like having my baby being taken from me by someone I loved only to slaughtered it. A puddle was forming on my pillow, but I didn't care. All I wanted was to run. I cried until I fell into a fitful sleep.
I had a dream that night that I was racing in the Olympics without a care in the world. And when I woke up the next day, I knew that was my mission.
NOTE TO SELF: It's good to have a mission.
"Venus, could you please go get some fresh water from the well?" Mother was washing the floors.
"Of course, mother. " I grabbed the bucket and left. I was now on my mission to the garden. Father, Uncle Jonathan, and a few of their emplyee's were in the garden talking about the Olympics, which were one week away. I lingered along into the garden and went to the well, slowly attached the bucket to the string, and lowered the carrier into the water.
"The celebration meal will be held at the stadium, but who will be the cook?" I couldn't help but overhearing what they were saying. (I hadn't planned on listening to their conversation, so you can't call it eavesdropping!)
"In the market there is the best restaurant. They have cooked for us before and they are amazing! It's just by the south fruit place and they are true Greek cooks." Father had showed me that restaurant before, and they were amazing chefs. Two summers ago, Zuess and I would saved up our money and buy a frozen treat to quench our need of a cold treat. Feeling nervous about listening, I swiftly moved back into the house and handed mother the bucket, then I grabbed a tray of sandwiches for the men. This was my time to complete my task. I moved like a dancer through the garden, waving all of the bugs away so they wouldn't attack the penutbutter and honey sandwiches. I finally reached the table and gently put the tray down.
"Thank you Venus." Father cheered. I could tell that they were all very hungary after all of that work. I smiled then waited because they would have to make small talk with me if I was just standing there.
"So how is your summer treating you Venus?" Uncle Jonathan looked eager to get back to work, but he was being polite.
"Great," I needed to get to the chase fast. This was my only time. " So, how are the preperation coming?"
"Okay, we are having some difficulties but that is just how work is." Father loved taking time to talk to me. I loved that about him. They started turning around from me to get back to work, then that was the time I had to say it.
"Are there any surprise racers in these Olympics games?" I know it sounded to eager, but they really don't know my plan so I was safe, or at least I thought I was.
"Not yet, but there are always surprised at the starting line!" Father looked at me strangely and then returned to his work.
"Zuess is coming along! I predict he will have a fine showing in his first Olympic games," Uncle Jonathan looked very different then he had any other time I had seen him. He seemed excited, proud. It was like he had discovered Zuess himself.
"I just wish women were allowed into the Olympics," I said as I turned to walk away, "then there would a race!" I smiled as I left them speechless.
" Women in the Olympics?" one of the other men asked.
They were silent for a while then Uncle Jonathan decided to speak. "Women in the Olympics?! That is the most uneducated thing I have ever heard anyone say. Women can't run! They can't race!"
I froze. Anger was growing.
"No women should ever even think about that. Women just need to stay home and cook, clean and stay silent. I don't even like how women are getting an education. It is quite annoying for men who need to go to collage, women are just stealing everything," he continued.
I was still in shock. Who would say that? Was this the person I have always known? Or had he been wearing a mask for all of those years? Furious, I stormed away.
"You've got that right," one of the men said. Father spoke up finally, changing the subject and getting people focused on their work again. I could tell he felt badly for me, but he didn't know my plan. I was now on another mission. I was determind to show him and the other men at that table who would an Olympic winner. The Olympics were two weeks away, and I had a lot of training to do.
Olympics, 204 AD:
Get ready! Get set! Go! The shot went off in my head. I ran, ran, ran until I was flying; I was free; I was invincible. The hot Greek summer sun snaked around my body. The hard earth underneath my feet was trailing along with me on my race. This is the best time of my life. I have been on this earth for 13 and a half years now, and I have been to the Olympic games for as long as I remember. I am free as a bird. That day will be a special day.
I walked out of the athletes room ready to prove Greece wrong. I was for sure though that they would recognize me by my face and body structure, but I guess I didn't fool anyone. I walked out with four other men, including Zuess. The men and Zuess wore a diper type bottom and that was it. I on the other hand wore a type of man dress. I had wrapped my chest with cloth so that I didn't blow my cover. I wrapped my hair up and put it in a hat. I really looked like a man. I even dirtied my self up a little bit.
"Contestants, to the starting line." Almost there. " Get ready," I was ready. " Get set," I was surely set. " GO!" Everyone dashed from the line except for me and Zuess. Has he been watching me everytime we raced? Of course he did, he was fasinated by my skill level. I was the last one and I was following everyone else. It looked like I needed to catch up big time, but I knew it could get in front. Faster and faster everybody went except for Zuess and I. I really wanted him to win, but I was the one in this race. The first three started to slow down, now it was me against Zuess. I started going faster picking up all of that energy. I knew he could sence me and sped up, but before he knew it I was in front of him. He looked stunned but I wasn't suprised. He tried to keep up, but he was too slow for me. The finish line was three feet away. I spread my arms out and I split through the ribbon. The crowd was shocked and yet they went wild. I could hear the others behind me and they finished the reace two. In the backround I could hear Jonathan kicking and screaming. He thought that Zuess would win, and I bet he had bet a lot of money on him. It was the perfect timing to show who had really won. Gently getting everyones attention, I faced my face to the sun light and un vailed my hat and my long brown hair drapped around my manly looking body. Everyone who was watching, even the animals, dirt, rocks, and other contestants gasped so loud that the loudness could cause and earthquake.
" Disquallified!" Jonathan rushed over to us. I had a seriouse look on my face because I knew I could out wit him. I could even see my father in the corner of my eye standing there frozen.
" I am not!" I was wanting to make a statement with this.
" Yes you are! Women are just silent creatures that should never, ever particapate in a sporting event! They shouldn't even be allowed to get an education!" The crowed gasped again. I wasn't supprised at all though. In his eyes, you could tell he wanted to take back those words.
"You know what Jonathan," I had thought about this moment my whole life. I have even dreamed about doing this, and I knew that the gods were on my side.
Note to self: When you know something will happen, think about what you will say so you are prepared to win a battle with words.
"Women have every right in the world to do what ever they want." I knew that this would throw him off and it did. He was silent then moved away. How could an adult man be afraid of a fourteen year old girl? I felt I had power. The crowd started cheering again and I felt fantastic, and I had forgotton that Zuess was watching all of this time. I turned to him then he took two steps to me then pulled me to him and gave me a kiss. My first kiss from my best friend, which was know my love.
"You are amazing," He towered me, but I felt comfort. "I tried to do what you do, but you always do it best." We hugged and just stood there while the crowd went even more nuts.
"Today, I got to live my dream, and I have always wanted to share it with my best friend." I gave him another kiss and at that moment I had begun the rest of my life.
Note to self: Everyone can dream, but the ones who follow them are the ones with the power.
Sparticus ~by Cameron
Sparticus opened his eyes sleepily, but he was not in his bedroom. Where am I? Sparticus wondered. Then he realized that he was in his father's barn. He had fallen asleep again.
His Dad was going to kill him if he found out he was sleeping when he was supposed to be cleaning out the stall. He jumped out of the hay stack, when he heard his dad yell in a grumpy voice, "SPARTICUS! YOU HAD BETTER NOT BE SLEEPING IN THE BARN AGAIN!" He ran to the supply closet and grabbed the broom; a splinter stabbed into his hand right as his dad walked in the door. The pain from the splinter flowed through him, but Sparticus did not flinch. "That's good that you're working. For a second I thought you were sleeping," his father said.
Sparticus lied, "Dad, I would never sleep when I should be working." He turned around and smiled to himself. I have a great dad, he thought. He did not know that today was the last day he would ever see his father alive again.
"How about you go to the market and get some bread from the bakery?" his father asked.
"Ok. I'll be right back," replied Sparticus. As he was heading down to the market, he saw a group of Roman soldiers pass by. He kept his head down because when he was a boy, his dad would tell him, "When you're sixteen, if a Roman soldier sees you, you will be taken away with no warning." But Spartacus couldn't help looking to see where they were heading. He looked back and saw that they were heading in the direction of his house. I bet there is another house that they're going to, Sparticus thought, They couldn't be heading to my house...they just couldn't be.
Sparticus got to the market with questions still bubbling in his head: What are Roman Soldiers doing in are town? Why did they pick this town? What do they want? Do they want more people to be gladiators? Sparticus paid for the bread. First he walked, then he jogged, and finally he ran until he was home. Sparticus ran through the doorway. His eyes swelled up in tears as he saw his dad lying on the floor with a knife in his chest. Sparticus looked away. He could not look at his father again. He then woried, Is my mother dead, too? He heard a noise deeper in his house and thought, That could it be my mother.
He ran into the kitchen but it was not his mother; it was two Roman soldiers. They saw him as he came though the door. Sparticus stopped in his tracks as the Roman soldiers lunged at him. He felt a bone crack in his arm and screamed in pain. He felt every limb in his body go stiff as the weight of the two Roman soldiers pinned him down. He was captured.
During the fight, he had managed to break the nose of one soldier and give the other a black eye. They started dragging Sparticus out of the house, but he kept fighting back. Then he grew tired of fighting and just went limp, his arm still stinging from the battle. Sparticus woke up and found himself in a cart; he sat up and looked around. There were a lot more people in the cart, he guessed they too had been captured by other Roman soldiers. Then saw someone who looked to be about his same age. The boy smiled and waved, but then he looked away. As Spartacus looked around for the reason the kid looked away, a shadow came over him. Sparticus looked up; a Roman soldier was looking down at him frowning.
"Were you talking to that boy over there?" the Roman soldier asked Sparticus.
"No sir," Sparticus lied.
"Good," said the soldier. The soldier turned away.
Sparticus sat up after another nap and looked at a shadow far away, it finally came into focas and Sparticus then thought, Oh no. In the distance was a huge ship with a big flag on it that showed a gladiator fighting another gladiator in a big arena. After everyone had boarded the ship, it set sail. Sparticus was very worried now. Will I ever go home again? he wondered. When the other boy looked back again, Sparticus was the one who waved hi. Then, Sparticus quickly moved forward and sat next to the boy. Sparticus asked, "What is your name?"
He said, "Solum. What's your name?"
"Spartacus." They spent the rest of the trip telling stories about their lives.
After weeks on board the ship, they heard a loud horn play far away. Sparticus looked up and saw a big island with at least one hundred buildings. In the the middle of everything was a huge coliseum. Sparticuses and Solums mouths dropped; it was the biggest building they have ever seen in their whole lives. Sparticus and Solum were marching down the smooth stone paths with a least twenty Roman soldiers to their front, side, and back. Everyone came out to see the new captured slaves. The Coliseum got bigger as they marched closer. Then, they finally were inside. The coliseum had so many passageways that Sparticus was supprised that the soldiers knew were to go. They had been walking for a least a half hour when they reached one big wooden door. The Roman soldiers opened the door, and when Sparticus looked throug the door, he was amazed and very afraid of what was inside.
Inside, at least two hundred slaves, who had been kidnapped from their homes, looked very worried and nervous. Sparticus looked around and saw women, men, and kids. The soldiers took off the handcuffs and pushed Sparticus and the others into the room then slammed the door shut.
It was at least two hours had past before a guard came back. A man was behind him, but he did not look like another prisoner. He had a golden crown and a big black robe made of bear hide. He stopped in the middle of the room and said, "Hello young and old people! I will tell you why you're here in one minute."
"We don't need to know why we're here; just let us go," said a prisoner.
The robed man looked at the prisoner and said, "Then leave!"
The prisoner looked suprised and stood up and walked up to the door. But before he could open it, a dagger flew from the man's hand and landed in the prisoner's neck. He fell to the floor before he could escape.
"Now," the man said in a calm, mocking voice, "does anyone else wish to leave?"
Sparticus felt sick, but he could not look away from the man on the floor. He remembered seeing his father lying on the floor and started to feel as though he would faint. He sensed he was falling to the floor, pictures of the prisoner and his father swirled in his head. He tried to scream, but no words came out. He fell to the floor in complete darkness.
Sparticus woke up, but could not see anything. He guessed he was still in his dream. Suddenly, a torch lit the room and the same man who killed the prisoner was now smiling down at him. Sparticus jumped away in fright.
"There is nothing to be afraid of" the man said. "It looked like you got a big bump on your head when you fell," the man said again.
"Who are you?" Sparticus asked.
"I am Emperor Ramados". I have chosen you to entertain me!"
Weeks later:
Sparticus would not fight. He could not kill another human being. He had always been a good peson, never thinking that fighting was the answer to any problem. But now he was scheduled to fight in the colusseum. He was supposed to fight and kill another person just to give other people - those who had never fought themselves - entertainment. As if this situation was not bad enough, his opponent was Solum.
The night before the battle, Solum was pushed into his cell by the gaurd behind him. The gaurd said, "This is the person you will fight."
Sparticus could not speak. He had befriended him on their journey here, and now they were to try and kill one another to entertain the emperor. He could not do it. He would not do it. Suddenly, a plan shot up into Sparticus's head.
Before the guard could close the door, Sparticus jumped. He quickly grabed the gaurds neck "SNAP" the gaurd fell to the floor Sparticus was so supprised that he had killed the gaurd that he almost fell to the floor but caught his balence again. Sparticus and Solum ran out the door to the cell and turned down a corner then another corner. They heard yells from gaurds that found the body of the killed gaurd. Sparticus ran for his life he saw light get closer and closer till he burst through the door Sparticus looked back to see if Solum was there but he was not there Sparticus's heart was beating so fast that he thought it would burst. Then relief washed over him as he saw Solum come through the door "Hury up" Sparticus said to Solum.
"I'm coming" Solum said panting. Sparticus saw a fishing boat ahead he raced to it with Solum right at his heals. He jumped into the boat then Sparticus heart lept as Solum jumped onto the boat they ducked down behide the rall. A couple of seconds past befor a hole troup of Soldiers came racing past the boat. Sparticus and Solum quickly raced below deck. Sparticus whispered in an excited voice, "Where to now?"
In an exhilirated voice, Solum said, "Welp... I guess we will go where ever the water takes us!"
Sparticus and Solum smiled broudly. They were finally free, so regardless of where they ended up, all was well.
By ~ Cameron
His Dad was going to kill him if he found out he was sleeping when he was supposed to be cleaning out the stall. He jumped out of the hay stack, when he heard his dad yell in a grumpy voice, "SPARTICUS! YOU HAD BETTER NOT BE SLEEPING IN THE BARN AGAIN!" He ran to the supply closet and grabbed the broom; a splinter stabbed into his hand right as his dad walked in the door. The pain from the splinter flowed through him, but Sparticus did not flinch. "That's good that you're working. For a second I thought you were sleeping," his father said.
Sparticus lied, "Dad, I would never sleep when I should be working." He turned around and smiled to himself. I have a great dad, he thought. He did not know that today was the last day he would ever see his father alive again.
"How about you go to the market and get some bread from the bakery?" his father asked.
"Ok. I'll be right back," replied Sparticus. As he was heading down to the market, he saw a group of Roman soldiers pass by. He kept his head down because when he was a boy, his dad would tell him, "When you're sixteen, if a Roman soldier sees you, you will be taken away with no warning." But Spartacus couldn't help looking to see where they were heading. He looked back and saw that they were heading in the direction of his house. I bet there is another house that they're going to, Sparticus thought, They couldn't be heading to my house...they just couldn't be.
Sparticus got to the market with questions still bubbling in his head: What are Roman Soldiers doing in are town? Why did they pick this town? What do they want? Do they want more people to be gladiators? Sparticus paid for the bread. First he walked, then he jogged, and finally he ran until he was home. Sparticus ran through the doorway. His eyes swelled up in tears as he saw his dad lying on the floor with a knife in his chest. Sparticus looked away. He could not look at his father again. He then woried, Is my mother dead, too? He heard a noise deeper in his house and thought, That could it be my mother.
He ran into the kitchen but it was not his mother; it was two Roman soldiers. They saw him as he came though the door. Sparticus stopped in his tracks as the Roman soldiers lunged at him. He felt a bone crack in his arm and screamed in pain. He felt every limb in his body go stiff as the weight of the two Roman soldiers pinned him down. He was captured.
During the fight, he had managed to break the nose of one soldier and give the other a black eye. They started dragging Sparticus out of the house, but he kept fighting back. Then he grew tired of fighting and just went limp, his arm still stinging from the battle. Sparticus woke up and found himself in a cart; he sat up and looked around. There were a lot more people in the cart, he guessed they too had been captured by other Roman soldiers. Then saw someone who looked to be about his same age. The boy smiled and waved, but then he looked away. As Spartacus looked around for the reason the kid looked away, a shadow came over him. Sparticus looked up; a Roman soldier was looking down at him frowning.
"Were you talking to that boy over there?" the Roman soldier asked Sparticus.
"No sir," Sparticus lied.
"Good," said the soldier. The soldier turned away.
Sparticus sat up after another nap and looked at a shadow far away, it finally came into focas and Sparticus then thought, Oh no. In the distance was a huge ship with a big flag on it that showed a gladiator fighting another gladiator in a big arena. After everyone had boarded the ship, it set sail. Sparticus was very worried now. Will I ever go home again? he wondered. When the other boy looked back again, Sparticus was the one who waved hi. Then, Sparticus quickly moved forward and sat next to the boy. Sparticus asked, "What is your name?"
He said, "Solum. What's your name?"
"Spartacus." They spent the rest of the trip telling stories about their lives.
After weeks on board the ship, they heard a loud horn play far away. Sparticus looked up and saw a big island with at least one hundred buildings. In the the middle of everything was a huge coliseum. Sparticuses and Solums mouths dropped; it was the biggest building they have ever seen in their whole lives. Sparticus and Solum were marching down the smooth stone paths with a least twenty Roman soldiers to their front, side, and back. Everyone came out to see the new captured slaves. The Coliseum got bigger as they marched closer. Then, they finally were inside. The coliseum had so many passageways that Sparticus was supprised that the soldiers knew were to go. They had been walking for a least a half hour when they reached one big wooden door. The Roman soldiers opened the door, and when Sparticus looked throug the door, he was amazed and very afraid of what was inside.
Inside, at least two hundred slaves, who had been kidnapped from their homes, looked very worried and nervous. Sparticus looked around and saw women, men, and kids. The soldiers took off the handcuffs and pushed Sparticus and the others into the room then slammed the door shut.
It was at least two hours had past before a guard came back. A man was behind him, but he did not look like another prisoner. He had a golden crown and a big black robe made of bear hide. He stopped in the middle of the room and said, "Hello young and old people! I will tell you why you're here in one minute."
"We don't need to know why we're here; just let us go," said a prisoner.
The robed man looked at the prisoner and said, "Then leave!"
The prisoner looked suprised and stood up and walked up to the door. But before he could open it, a dagger flew from the man's hand and landed in the prisoner's neck. He fell to the floor before he could escape.
"Now," the man said in a calm, mocking voice, "does anyone else wish to leave?"
Sparticus felt sick, but he could not look away from the man on the floor. He remembered seeing his father lying on the floor and started to feel as though he would faint. He sensed he was falling to the floor, pictures of the prisoner and his father swirled in his head. He tried to scream, but no words came out. He fell to the floor in complete darkness.
Sparticus woke up, but could not see anything. He guessed he was still in his dream. Suddenly, a torch lit the room and the same man who killed the prisoner was now smiling down at him. Sparticus jumped away in fright.
"There is nothing to be afraid of" the man said. "It looked like you got a big bump on your head when you fell," the man said again.
"Who are you?" Sparticus asked.
"I am Emperor Ramados". I have chosen you to entertain me!"
Weeks later:
Sparticus would not fight. He could not kill another human being. He had always been a good peson, never thinking that fighting was the answer to any problem. But now he was scheduled to fight in the colusseum. He was supposed to fight and kill another person just to give other people - those who had never fought themselves - entertainment. As if this situation was not bad enough, his opponent was Solum.
The night before the battle, Solum was pushed into his cell by the gaurd behind him. The gaurd said, "This is the person you will fight."
Sparticus could not speak. He had befriended him on their journey here, and now they were to try and kill one another to entertain the emperor. He could not do it. He would not do it. Suddenly, a plan shot up into Sparticus's head.
Before the guard could close the door, Sparticus jumped. He quickly grabed the gaurds neck "SNAP" the gaurd fell to the floor Sparticus was so supprised that he had killed the gaurd that he almost fell to the floor but caught his balence again. Sparticus and Solum ran out the door to the cell and turned down a corner then another corner. They heard yells from gaurds that found the body of the killed gaurd. Sparticus ran for his life he saw light get closer and closer till he burst through the door Sparticus looked back to see if Solum was there but he was not there Sparticus's heart was beating so fast that he thought it would burst. Then relief washed over him as he saw Solum come through the door "Hury up" Sparticus said to Solum.
"I'm coming" Solum said panting. Sparticus saw a fishing boat ahead he raced to it with Solum right at his heals. He jumped into the boat then Sparticus heart lept as Solum jumped onto the boat they ducked down behide the rall. A couple of seconds past befor a hole troup of Soldiers came racing past the boat. Sparticus and Solum quickly raced below deck. Sparticus whispered in an excited voice, "Where to now?"
In an exhilirated voice, Solum said, "Welp... I guess we will go where ever the water takes us!"
Sparticus and Solum smiled broudly. They were finally free, so regardless of where they ended up, all was well.
By ~ Cameron
Life or Death? That is the Question ~by Tomi
"Life or Death? That is The Question."
As the sun began to warm the brisk morning air, the city people could feel the tension between every gladiator; this had not happened for at least one hundred and fifty years. This was no ordinary day. Zeavsulo would fight his brother in a battle to the death. As Zeavsulo put his cloths around his calves, he felt anxious and scared. He cried, letting the hot tears roll down his face and fall down to the dirt below him. As he put on his shoulder plate, his brother Kivris walked in wearing his own armor. "Do not worry about the coming battle, the outcome will be horrid for both of us. There will be no winner." They embraced knowing it would be their last time together. Zeavsulo was forced to fight his brother because of the death of an innocent citizen. He was wrongly accused of killing the man. He was a witness, but he was not the killer.
The gladiators were huddled in corners, the air in the room wreaked of tobacco. The word spread like the Plague of Black Death.
"Brothers have to fight each other in a fight to the death. Which one will die?" It was all people could talk about.
A few gladiators that were by the commons door heard a voice that seemed to come from just around the corner "This way, NOW! You two, don't you even try to escape from me. I am a guard, if you escape I will be the one who is in trouble, serious trouble." Two great bangs were heard just seconds after he stopped speaking to the two men. When the door opened, two men were pushed through the threshold, their hands cuffed together. As the guard turned them around, someone gasped and yelled out, "It's Zeavsulo and Kivris, poor old chaps." When everyone realized who the brothers were, they bowed their heads in honor.
The battle began. Their swords clashed, sending sparks out like fireworks. In the gladiator world, Kivris was a Secutor, also called the "chaser". Zeavsulo was a Retarius and more mobile, but he was more vulnerable to serious wounds. The crowd was wild, wine sloshing out of their goblets, spanikopita whizzing through the air as plentiful as a migration of birds on a cold fall day.
Zeavsulo swung, but Kivris blocked the blow. Zeavsulo swung again; Kivris wasn't as fast as the last time. His head was sliced off cleanly enough that his neck stub was not bleeding, and his head was sitting in the dirt as if he was buried in the sand. The Colosseum, which seconds earlier was buzzing with excitement and entertainment, was now quiet as a field mouse hiding from a hawk. In one stroke, Kivris was a headless gladiator. The sickening feeling in Zeavsulos' stomach grew into a death wish. That was the last time he saw his brother.
The following night, Zeavsulo had a very peculiar dream indeed. He climbed onto his cot. As he looked up, he fell back on to the coarse ground, a vivid hallucination was hovering just three feet away from Zeavsulo. The figure was covered by a cloak, it's face was darkened by shadows.
The figure moved closer,
"W-w-who a-are y--y-you?" Zeavsulo whispered in a coarse voice. "W-w-what d-do y-you want f-from m-me?"
The second the vision touched Zeavsulos foot, the hood flipped back revealing his brother. The ghost of Kivris let out a tremendous scream and faded into nothingness.
Then the dream segued into a battle. The sound of the clashing swords was deafening. Zeavsulo's heart skipped a beat, and he knew one little move would cost him greatly. He took his chances; one move to the left, one to the right, and a blow to finish his opponent off. However, he missed a valuable step and fell to the ground. Then a gut-wrenching pain flew through his leg. The next thing he knew, the gladius was at his neck...
Zeavsulo woke with a start; and he noticed that his hands were clenched and his heart was beating wildly. The blanket was wrapped around him tightly; he could not breathe. He pulled himself out of the blanket cocoon, easing his breathing. The loss of his brother turned him into cut twine. He knew that once twine was cut, you can never fully put the two parts back together.
One week later, the games began. Out in the back of the Colosseum, the barracks were built to house the new slaves who had qualified as gladiators. The date was April 25, 245 B.C, but Zeavsulo was oblivious to the date or the festivities since his brother's death. Zeavsulo was walking sullenly to his tent. As he walked through the many rows of tents he heard someone mumbling and laughing insanely. Why is he talking to himself? Or...is he... insane? Zeavsulo wondered. He looked in to find the sourse of the noise.
The candle cast a shadow on the wall of the barrack creating a ghostly twin of Junged. Junged was Zeavsulo's cousin. Junged had became a gladiator without Zeavsulo's knowing. Junged slowly un-sheathed his sword, bringing it up to his neck. He pulled back the sword and sliced his own neck like butter. Junged's depression began after his wife was killed before him. It grew as he was brutally dragged off to the Collosseum to be a gladiator. It finally got to a point where it was like a dam too weak and cracked, spilling all of the contents on the city below it. In the last moments of his life, he fell over, knocking the candle over on his desk. Zeavsulo heard the groan of a dying man and ran from the tent.
The tent was on fire. A guard heard a noise and walked around the corner and saw the tent where Junged had died engulfed in flame. Zeavsulo was standing in front of it stunned. He looked like a guilty man.
The guard ran to get him. When he grabbed Zeavsulo, he called for help.
"Someone, someone help me! Murder. Murder!" He told of finding Zeavsulo in front of the tent, half of it was burnt, the other half holding a corpse with singed hair. He slowly walked forward, then he saw a slice mark on his neck, blood spattered on his front.
"I know you did this, you little worm, you can't wriggle out of this one! Heh, heh, heh."
Zeavsulo vomited on the ground before himself when it dawned on him that he was being accused of the murder of his cousin. He heard footsteps behind him coming closer, he looked back, and he saw the Emperor was walking his way with three other guards.
"Get over here boy!" yelled the Emperor, "You will be dealt with very inhumanely if you don't cooperate, but if you do, we will be easier on you."
Where am i? Why is it so dark? Why are they doing this to me?
A rough echoing voice rumbled, "We are keeping you here until further notice."
"Who is we?" No answer.
A blinding light flashed into the giant iron room. Zeavsulo looked down at his wrists, they were chained together, the metal on the cuffs was slowly but effectively cutting into his skin. A large, gruff man walked toward him, grabbed his cuffs and pulled him up to his feet. "Where are we going?" asked
Zeavsulo.
"You are fighting another gladiator today," the man grumbled. The rest Zeavsulo could not hear because he was mumbling, "I hope you don't get as lucky this time."
The crowd was roaring as the two gladiators stepped upon the blood coated dirt. The Emperor yelled, "LET THE GAMES BEGIN!!!!" The two gladiators were locked in combat. In a matter of five minutes Zeavsulo was pinned down, at the opponents mercy. Zeavsulo and the other gladiator both looked at the Emperor, the Emperor gave him a thumbs up. Just as the opponent brought his gladius up, Zeavsulo heard a suffocated moan. Zeavsulo looked up and saw an arrow through the mans chest. Zeavsulo looked up into the crowd to see anyone who could be the culprit, then he saw a figure in a black cloak running down the aisles towards the exit.
"GET HIM" the Emperor yelled. But it was too late, the man had escaped. In all the chaos, Zeavsulo found out a way to escape the Colosseum without being noticed. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him searching for a place to hide, a barn, a shed, anywhere. After what seemed to be an hour, he finally found an old abandoned shack. Zeavsulo walked in, then was startled by a voice.
"Who are you, and what do you want from me?"
"I almost got killed in the gladiator arena, but I was saved by someone in a black cloak. He shot the other gladiator." Zeavsulo replied as he turned around to look for the owner of the voice. When the man saw Zeavsulos face he gasped and spoke
"You, you are the gladiator I saved in the stupid gladiator games?" As he called out the revealing sentence, he jumped out of the loft just above Zeavsulo.
"You were the man in the black cloak?" Zeavsulo questioned. "What is your name?"
"My name is Midnock. I didn't want you to die."
"But why? Did you know that I had to kill my brother?" yelled Zeavsulo
"Yes I did."replied Midnock
"I was depressed, I wanted to die right then and there," replied the tormented Zeavsulo before falling into a deep sleep.
One week later, Zeavsulo and Midnock were quite at home together, not fighting, not arguing. Zeavsulo was getting over his depression little by little. The two were in the middle of an intense conversation about the Emperors past and present when there was a tremendous bang and a yell.
"THERE THEY ARE!!" the roman soldiers yelled out."GET THEM!!"
Zeavsulo and Midnock were running around the room in a panic. Zeavsulo was tackled, but punched the soldier in the nose and heard a scream. Target hit. Zeavsulo heard Midnock yelling his name.
"Zeavsulo! Zeavsulo help!" As Zeavsulo ran to find Midnock, he felt great pressure on his hands and looked back to see a soldier putting cuffs on his hands. Oh crap, not these again. The next thing Zeavsulo knew was together with Midnock again. They were moving and the ride was really bumpy. He saw that he was in a cage. "I think we are going to the Emperor."
After a short time they arrived in front of the Emperor. "Have you decided what you are goi..."
The Emperor interupted the guard half way between his sentence. "Yes I have. To the guillotine for both of them." NO, NO, NO! "You can't do this to me!" Zeavsulo wailed. They were dragged to the dungeons where the guillotines were located. They had their heads fitted to the hole. "STOP! NO PLEASE!" yelled Midnock and Zeavsulo in a harmony. The blade was pulled up, no mercy. Then dropped. Zeavsulo was now in his happy place, right next to Midnock, his only true friend.
By: Tomi
As the sun began to warm the brisk morning air, the city people could feel the tension between every gladiator; this had not happened for at least one hundred and fifty years. This was no ordinary day. Zeavsulo would fight his brother in a battle to the death. As Zeavsulo put his cloths around his calves, he felt anxious and scared. He cried, letting the hot tears roll down his face and fall down to the dirt below him. As he put on his shoulder plate, his brother Kivris walked in wearing his own armor. "Do not worry about the coming battle, the outcome will be horrid for both of us. There will be no winner." They embraced knowing it would be their last time together. Zeavsulo was forced to fight his brother because of the death of an innocent citizen. He was wrongly accused of killing the man. He was a witness, but he was not the killer.
The gladiators were huddled in corners, the air in the room wreaked of tobacco. The word spread like the Plague of Black Death.
"Brothers have to fight each other in a fight to the death. Which one will die?" It was all people could talk about.
A few gladiators that were by the commons door heard a voice that seemed to come from just around the corner "This way, NOW! You two, don't you even try to escape from me. I am a guard, if you escape I will be the one who is in trouble, serious trouble." Two great bangs were heard just seconds after he stopped speaking to the two men. When the door opened, two men were pushed through the threshold, their hands cuffed together. As the guard turned them around, someone gasped and yelled out, "It's Zeavsulo and Kivris, poor old chaps." When everyone realized who the brothers were, they bowed their heads in honor.
The battle began. Their swords clashed, sending sparks out like fireworks. In the gladiator world, Kivris was a Secutor, also called the "chaser". Zeavsulo was a Retarius and more mobile, but he was more vulnerable to serious wounds. The crowd was wild, wine sloshing out of their goblets, spanikopita whizzing through the air as plentiful as a migration of birds on a cold fall day.
Zeavsulo swung, but Kivris blocked the blow. Zeavsulo swung again; Kivris wasn't as fast as the last time. His head was sliced off cleanly enough that his neck stub was not bleeding, and his head was sitting in the dirt as if he was buried in the sand. The Colosseum, which seconds earlier was buzzing with excitement and entertainment, was now quiet as a field mouse hiding from a hawk. In one stroke, Kivris was a headless gladiator. The sickening feeling in Zeavsulos' stomach grew into a death wish. That was the last time he saw his brother.
The following night, Zeavsulo had a very peculiar dream indeed. He climbed onto his cot. As he looked up, he fell back on to the coarse ground, a vivid hallucination was hovering just three feet away from Zeavsulo. The figure was covered by a cloak, it's face was darkened by shadows.
The figure moved closer,
"W-w-who a-are y--y-you?" Zeavsulo whispered in a coarse voice. "W-w-what d-do y-you want f-from m-me?"
The second the vision touched Zeavsulos foot, the hood flipped back revealing his brother. The ghost of Kivris let out a tremendous scream and faded into nothingness.
Then the dream segued into a battle. The sound of the clashing swords was deafening. Zeavsulo's heart skipped a beat, and he knew one little move would cost him greatly. He took his chances; one move to the left, one to the right, and a blow to finish his opponent off. However, he missed a valuable step and fell to the ground. Then a gut-wrenching pain flew through his leg. The next thing he knew, the gladius was at his neck...
Zeavsulo woke with a start; and he noticed that his hands were clenched and his heart was beating wildly. The blanket was wrapped around him tightly; he could not breathe. He pulled himself out of the blanket cocoon, easing his breathing. The loss of his brother turned him into cut twine. He knew that once twine was cut, you can never fully put the two parts back together.
One week later, the games began. Out in the back of the Colosseum, the barracks were built to house the new slaves who had qualified as gladiators. The date was April 25, 245 B.C, but Zeavsulo was oblivious to the date or the festivities since his brother's death. Zeavsulo was walking sullenly to his tent. As he walked through the many rows of tents he heard someone mumbling and laughing insanely. Why is he talking to himself? Or...is he... insane? Zeavsulo wondered. He looked in to find the sourse of the noise.
The candle cast a shadow on the wall of the barrack creating a ghostly twin of Junged. Junged was Zeavsulo's cousin. Junged had became a gladiator without Zeavsulo's knowing. Junged slowly un-sheathed his sword, bringing it up to his neck. He pulled back the sword and sliced his own neck like butter. Junged's depression began after his wife was killed before him. It grew as he was brutally dragged off to the Collosseum to be a gladiator. It finally got to a point where it was like a dam too weak and cracked, spilling all of the contents on the city below it. In the last moments of his life, he fell over, knocking the candle over on his desk. Zeavsulo heard the groan of a dying man and ran from the tent.
The tent was on fire. A guard heard a noise and walked around the corner and saw the tent where Junged had died engulfed in flame. Zeavsulo was standing in front of it stunned. He looked like a guilty man.
The guard ran to get him. When he grabbed Zeavsulo, he called for help.
"Someone, someone help me! Murder. Murder!" He told of finding Zeavsulo in front of the tent, half of it was burnt, the other half holding a corpse with singed hair. He slowly walked forward, then he saw a slice mark on his neck, blood spattered on his front.
"I know you did this, you little worm, you can't wriggle out of this one! Heh, heh, heh."
Zeavsulo vomited on the ground before himself when it dawned on him that he was being accused of the murder of his cousin. He heard footsteps behind him coming closer, he looked back, and he saw the Emperor was walking his way with three other guards.
"Get over here boy!" yelled the Emperor, "You will be dealt with very inhumanely if you don't cooperate, but if you do, we will be easier on you."
Where am i? Why is it so dark? Why are they doing this to me?
A rough echoing voice rumbled, "We are keeping you here until further notice."
"Who is we?" No answer.
A blinding light flashed into the giant iron room. Zeavsulo looked down at his wrists, they were chained together, the metal on the cuffs was slowly but effectively cutting into his skin. A large, gruff man walked toward him, grabbed his cuffs and pulled him up to his feet. "Where are we going?" asked
Zeavsulo.
"You are fighting another gladiator today," the man grumbled. The rest Zeavsulo could not hear because he was mumbling, "I hope you don't get as lucky this time."
The crowd was roaring as the two gladiators stepped upon the blood coated dirt. The Emperor yelled, "LET THE GAMES BEGIN!!!!" The two gladiators were locked in combat. In a matter of five minutes Zeavsulo was pinned down, at the opponents mercy. Zeavsulo and the other gladiator both looked at the Emperor, the Emperor gave him a thumbs up. Just as the opponent brought his gladius up, Zeavsulo heard a suffocated moan. Zeavsulo looked up and saw an arrow through the mans chest. Zeavsulo looked up into the crowd to see anyone who could be the culprit, then he saw a figure in a black cloak running down the aisles towards the exit.
"GET HIM" the Emperor yelled. But it was too late, the man had escaped. In all the chaos, Zeavsulo found out a way to escape the Colosseum without being noticed. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him searching for a place to hide, a barn, a shed, anywhere. After what seemed to be an hour, he finally found an old abandoned shack. Zeavsulo walked in, then was startled by a voice.
"Who are you, and what do you want from me?"
"I almost got killed in the gladiator arena, but I was saved by someone in a black cloak. He shot the other gladiator." Zeavsulo replied as he turned around to look for the owner of the voice. When the man saw Zeavsulos face he gasped and spoke
"You, you are the gladiator I saved in the stupid gladiator games?" As he called out the revealing sentence, he jumped out of the loft just above Zeavsulo.
"You were the man in the black cloak?" Zeavsulo questioned. "What is your name?"
"My name is Midnock. I didn't want you to die."
"But why? Did you know that I had to kill my brother?" yelled Zeavsulo
"Yes I did."replied Midnock
"I was depressed, I wanted to die right then and there," replied the tormented Zeavsulo before falling into a deep sleep.
One week later, Zeavsulo and Midnock were quite at home together, not fighting, not arguing. Zeavsulo was getting over his depression little by little. The two were in the middle of an intense conversation about the Emperors past and present when there was a tremendous bang and a yell.
"THERE THEY ARE!!" the roman soldiers yelled out."GET THEM!!"
Zeavsulo and Midnock were running around the room in a panic. Zeavsulo was tackled, but punched the soldier in the nose and heard a scream. Target hit. Zeavsulo heard Midnock yelling his name.
"Zeavsulo! Zeavsulo help!" As Zeavsulo ran to find Midnock, he felt great pressure on his hands and looked back to see a soldier putting cuffs on his hands. Oh crap, not these again. The next thing Zeavsulo knew was together with Midnock again. They were moving and the ride was really bumpy. He saw that he was in a cage. "I think we are going to the Emperor."
After a short time they arrived in front of the Emperor. "Have you decided what you are goi..."
The Emperor interupted the guard half way between his sentence. "Yes I have. To the guillotine for both of them." NO, NO, NO! "You can't do this to me!" Zeavsulo wailed. They were dragged to the dungeons where the guillotines were located. They had their heads fitted to the hole. "STOP! NO PLEASE!" yelled Midnock and Zeavsulo in a harmony. The blade was pulled up, no mercy. Then dropped. Zeavsulo was now in his happy place, right next to Midnock, his only true friend.
By: Tomi
Dreams ~ by Claire F.
Dreams
Running past the fields, I could make out the wonderful colors of a tournament in progress. There were blues, reds, pinks, and oranges. Name a color, and it was there. These colors were displayed on magnificent flowing ribbons and flags. The beauty astounded me, and nearly knocked me backwards. All around the field were peasants, knights, and nobles. I made it to the field just in time to see a pair of knights ride out on their massive horses. As I was gobbling this sight up with my eyes, a young voice called out, "Gregory, come! Come!” When I looked in the direction of the voice, I saw my little brother, Peter. He was nine years old, five years younger than me.
"Hi, Peter," I called, "Looks like you found us a seat."
"Indeed I did, and it's a pretty nice view, too!" It may not have been comfortable, but the view was spectacular. We were right next to the fence, where we could watch all the action take place. The spot he had found was also on the ground, with all the other peasants. Right next to us were the galleries, where all the nobles sat. I felt ashamed to be sitting on the rough, hard ground while the nobles got to sit in a nice shelter, away from the burning sun, but I was thankful Peter found us a seat before they were all taken by the swarming crowds.
The swords clashed as the knights danced around each other. Peter and I talked for a bit about whom we thought would win and which horses were the most extravagant. My favorite knight was tall and muscular. His name was Fendrel, and he was known throughout the land. Not only was Fendrel's horse draped in flowing reds and blues, but he himself was too. He'll win, I thought. There wasn't a doubt in my mind.
I was engaged in this tournament, trying to take in even the smallest detail,for I'd probably never see such a spectacular sight as this again. A tournament was a once in a lifetime chance, for I was a peasant, and we rarely were able to attend an event hosted by the lord. Tournaments are the only special event peasants are occasionally allowed to go to. I was thankful this was a extraordinary one.
We peasants received no respect. Father said we were very lucky to have the great stability, laws, and army of our lord. But I disagreed. We were treated like pigs in my point of view. Nothing was ours, for it all belonged to the lord. We weren't even allowed to leave the land without the lord's permission. Because of this, I wanted freedom. I wanted the freedom the knights had. I wanted the freedom the lords had. I wanted the freedom that everybody but the peasants had. I wanted it, and I wanted it badly.
But most of all, I wanted to be a knight. Everyone had told me there was no chance, since my father was poor like everybody else. But I knew I could fight. My brother and I always played around with the branches we found on the ground, and I, of course, always won. I am not much of a bragger, but I was by far, the most skilled village boy there was, when handed a sword. Although the others said I had no chance of becoming a knight, I knew that it wasn't impossible, for nothing was.
When I saw Fendrel ride out onto the field, I returned my focus to the tournament. The fight was coming to an end, and Fendrel was charging with full speed at his opponent. He held forward his lance, determined to strike down the enemy. The opposing knight, William, was confident, but when he saw Fendrel's calm, steady gaze, fear entered his eyes. When they were just inches away from each other, Fendrel's lance struck William straight in the shoulder and tore him of his horse. I heard a pop, and he landed with a thud on the ground. Fendrel rode over to him and dismounted his horse. As he was bending down to claim William's armor, William struck out his lance, knocking Fendrel to the side. The crowd gasped as Fendrel fell to the dirt, but he stood back up and spit into William's face. There was clear hatred between these two knights, for I was close enough to see it in their eyes. Fendrel kicked up dirt into William's eyes as he walked towards the crowd. He scanned the crowd, looking for a kipper. This kipper would be employed by him to force William's valuables off of his body, using only a club as a weapon. As Fendrel was looking around the audience, he spotted me. "What's your name, boy?" he called.
"Gregory, sir," I replied in a timid voice. Would I be his kipper? I thought myself.
"Very good. Now come here." I walked towards Fendrel as all sorts of feelings were flowing through me, including astonishment, joyousness, and fear. When I arrived by his side, he shook my hand and introduced me to his squire, Bryce. Bryce was fourteen just like me, but taller, and stronger too. “Are you enjoying the tournament?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied, "I am."
"Wonderful, me too. My father, Sir Leofrick is your lord. As you should know, he is the one hosting this magnificent tournament." I have never seen anyone so proud of his father as Bryce was.
“So you're the famous young fighter. I’ve heard so much about you. They say that you’re going to be the next great knight of the land!” I complimented. I was jealous of Bryce, for he had my dream. He would become a knight in only six years, for now he was a knight in training, helping with the cleaning and caring of Fendrel's horse and armor.
"Well thank you. Good luck fighting, William."
I turned my attention back to Fendrel. "Take this," he commanded as he handed me a heavy club. My heart skipped a beat as I walked out onto the field. Compared to William, I was helpless. I may have had the weapon, but he had the experience. When I looked through William's helmet I noticed his eyes staring into mine, as if staring into my soul. Fear struck me, but I pushed it aside and continued forward. When I was ten yards away, I dashed towards him. William struck out his lance, aiming to trip me. But I dodged it and pranced behind him. Swinging my arm forward, I thrashed the heavy club into the back of William's head. He let out a shriek as he slumped to the ground.
I couldn't believe it. With one strike, I had defeated a knight.
With a mighty swing, I tossed my club to the side of the arena. I grabbed William's lance, shield, and armor, leaving him in his undergarments. When I gave Fendrel William's valuables, his mouth was agape. I didn't understand why. The task of being a kipper had been so much easier than I thought. "That was amazing!" Fendrel exclaimed. I couldn't understand what he meant. I didn't think it was that amazing.
Bryce saw the expression on my face, so he said, "Gregory, Fendrel didn't believe that you could actually do it. When he picked you to be his kipper, he was just testing you. He wanted to embarrass of you." When Bryce said this, my heart nearly fell to the ground. He didn't trust me at all. He was just trying to make fun of me. I stood tall, trying not to show the humiliation I felt.
"It's not a bad thing, Gregory. You didn't embarrass yourself. Didn't you see the crowd's uproar when you knocked William out? Your skills are outstanding. You must be proud of yourself."
Fendrel suddenly interrupted and said, "Gregory, Bryce is right. You are a great fighter. That's why I'm going to make an offer."
"What do you mean?" I replied, extremely confused.
"What I mean is that your skills shouldn't be wasted." Fendrel checked that there weren't any people in hearing distance, then he added, "You should become a knight."
I nearly fainted at this request, but at a time like this I would have been ashamed, so I finally gathered up enough courage to speak, "I would be honored to become a knight, Sir Fendrel."
"That's extraordinary," Fendrel replied, "I knew you would."
At that moment I realized the horrible problem. I was poor; my father was no one of importance. In order to become a knight, he had to be a noble. How would I become a knight? I hung my head low and mumbled the words that deflated my dream. They brought it down to the level of impossibility. "I can't," I said regretfully. "I have no money, and I'm just a lowly peasant."
"I can help you with that, Gregory," said Bryce.
This confused me greatly. "How will you get me a different father, a lot more money, a horse, armor and weapons?"
"Oh it won't be too hard for me. Don't forget; I'm the son of a lord. You just wait and see," he replied. "Go get your belongings. Fendrel and I will meet you at the oak tree by the river."
I was too stunned to speak, so I nodded my head by way of reply, my curiosity rising by the second. I knew better than to ask questions, for by the sound of Bryce's voice we were in a hurry. I was glad we were meeting by the oak tree. That's where all my fond memories of my life had taken place when I wasn't working like a pig. For if we were to leave the land I wouldn't ever of seen it again.
When I started running in the direction of my cottage, Peter yelled, "Wait up, Gregory, I'm coming with you." I had to slow my pace so that he could follow. We both jogged past the luscious green fields. I was tempted to looked back, and when my curiosity finally flooded over me I saw Bryce and Fendrel going through the huge oak doors in the castle. Why would they go in there? I asked myself.
When Peter and I got back to our wooden cottage, I went straight to my room. I took my leather bag out from under my bed and packed my only other pair of clothes. I also put in a loaf of bread and my knife. Our house only had two rooms, so we couldn't store very many things in it. As I was about to step out the door Father yelled, "Just where do you think you're off to, Gregory?"
"Father, I'm leaving."
"Where to?" he asked. Father was strict, and he was not to be fooled.
"Off the land. I plan to make a new life as a knight," I replied. "I am fourteen years of age, and I feel that I am quite capable of making my own living."
"NO. I will not let you do that. Your mother and I need you to help us on the land. Farming is difficult, and Peter is not old enough."
"You can not make me do anything, Father. I still love you, for you are my family. I will send you money, because I do not want you to perish. Go ahead and let Peter be the heir of our household. I'm going to be free! I'm going to capture my dreams!" With that I strode out the door. I hoped that father would forgive me, for that would probably be the last time I would ever talk to him.
But when I turned around to get a very last glimpse of our house, my father sighed and yelled, "I wish you luck, Gregory." I gave my father one last smile. I knew he would come around at some point and support me, even if he choose the very last second. I slung my pack over my shoulder and sprinted towards the river. I ran as fast I ever have, for I was anxious to see how both Bryce and Fendrel would complete this miracle.
When I arrived at the oak tree, they were already there, chatting to each other softly. "Hi, Gregory." said Bryce when he noticed me. "First of all, to become a knight, you'll need some cash," he said, tossing me a bag of coins. My jaw dropped, but I accepted it willingly. He then retreated behind an immensely thick tree and came back with a tall, white horse. The sun glinted off his hair, making it shine like a thousand little diamonds. The horse's saddle bags were filled with clinking metal. Longing for this horse gathered up in my heart, and I could already feel a strong bond between this horse and I. But I knew that it had to have been either Bryce's or Fendrel's.
"Is he yours?" I asked Bryce, overcome with curiosity.
"Nope." Bryce replied.
"Oh. So he's Fendrel's?"
"Wrong again. He's yours, Gregory!" I was speechless as he said this so I let my jaw drop open once again. "His name is Bruno. Go ahead, hop on."
I wandered over to Bruno and looked in his saddlebags. I was astonished when I saw heaping piles of some of the most expensive armor there was. "Where did you get all this?" I questioned.
"That's my uncle's old armor, and I took Bruno from the stables. My father gave me a lot of cash when I became a squire, and that's only part of it. Fendrel's going to fill in the position of your dad, for to be a knight you must have an important father."
“Thank you so much. How can I repay you?” I asked.
“By showing you skill on the battlefield,” Fendrel replied, with a wide smile on his face.
Why would he do such a deed for only a peasant? I asked myself. My best guess was that he only was doing this to make himself look grander. Everybody would think that he would be the greatest knight, because he would have trained me. But I didn't care, for I would do anything to become a knight.
“I can do that,” I said, confident in myself. I saw Fendrel and Bryce mounting their horses, so I hopped on Bruno and chuckled silently to myself. Who knew that I would become a knight? No one believed me. But in that moment I wasn't thinking that I had showed them up, instead I was hoping that my success would allow them to believe in their dreams, too. I gave Bruno a tiny kick and we rode off into the brilliant colors of the sunset. I ran into the colors of flags and ribbons, and I rode into the colors of the sun, the colors of hopes and dreams.
By ~ Claire French
Running past the fields, I could make out the wonderful colors of a tournament in progress. There were blues, reds, pinks, and oranges. Name a color, and it was there. These colors were displayed on magnificent flowing ribbons and flags. The beauty astounded me, and nearly knocked me backwards. All around the field were peasants, knights, and nobles. I made it to the field just in time to see a pair of knights ride out on their massive horses. As I was gobbling this sight up with my eyes, a young voice called out, "Gregory, come! Come!” When I looked in the direction of the voice, I saw my little brother, Peter. He was nine years old, five years younger than me.
"Hi, Peter," I called, "Looks like you found us a seat."
"Indeed I did, and it's a pretty nice view, too!" It may not have been comfortable, but the view was spectacular. We were right next to the fence, where we could watch all the action take place. The spot he had found was also on the ground, with all the other peasants. Right next to us were the galleries, where all the nobles sat. I felt ashamed to be sitting on the rough, hard ground while the nobles got to sit in a nice shelter, away from the burning sun, but I was thankful Peter found us a seat before they were all taken by the swarming crowds.
The swords clashed as the knights danced around each other. Peter and I talked for a bit about whom we thought would win and which horses were the most extravagant. My favorite knight was tall and muscular. His name was Fendrel, and he was known throughout the land. Not only was Fendrel's horse draped in flowing reds and blues, but he himself was too. He'll win, I thought. There wasn't a doubt in my mind.
I was engaged in this tournament, trying to take in even the smallest detail,for I'd probably never see such a spectacular sight as this again. A tournament was a once in a lifetime chance, for I was a peasant, and we rarely were able to attend an event hosted by the lord. Tournaments are the only special event peasants are occasionally allowed to go to. I was thankful this was a extraordinary one.
We peasants received no respect. Father said we were very lucky to have the great stability, laws, and army of our lord. But I disagreed. We were treated like pigs in my point of view. Nothing was ours, for it all belonged to the lord. We weren't even allowed to leave the land without the lord's permission. Because of this, I wanted freedom. I wanted the freedom the knights had. I wanted the freedom the lords had. I wanted the freedom that everybody but the peasants had. I wanted it, and I wanted it badly.
But most of all, I wanted to be a knight. Everyone had told me there was no chance, since my father was poor like everybody else. But I knew I could fight. My brother and I always played around with the branches we found on the ground, and I, of course, always won. I am not much of a bragger, but I was by far, the most skilled village boy there was, when handed a sword. Although the others said I had no chance of becoming a knight, I knew that it wasn't impossible, for nothing was.
When I saw Fendrel ride out onto the field, I returned my focus to the tournament. The fight was coming to an end, and Fendrel was charging with full speed at his opponent. He held forward his lance, determined to strike down the enemy. The opposing knight, William, was confident, but when he saw Fendrel's calm, steady gaze, fear entered his eyes. When they were just inches away from each other, Fendrel's lance struck William straight in the shoulder and tore him of his horse. I heard a pop, and he landed with a thud on the ground. Fendrel rode over to him and dismounted his horse. As he was bending down to claim William's armor, William struck out his lance, knocking Fendrel to the side. The crowd gasped as Fendrel fell to the dirt, but he stood back up and spit into William's face. There was clear hatred between these two knights, for I was close enough to see it in their eyes. Fendrel kicked up dirt into William's eyes as he walked towards the crowd. He scanned the crowd, looking for a kipper. This kipper would be employed by him to force William's valuables off of his body, using only a club as a weapon. As Fendrel was looking around the audience, he spotted me. "What's your name, boy?" he called.
"Gregory, sir," I replied in a timid voice. Would I be his kipper? I thought myself.
"Very good. Now come here." I walked towards Fendrel as all sorts of feelings were flowing through me, including astonishment, joyousness, and fear. When I arrived by his side, he shook my hand and introduced me to his squire, Bryce. Bryce was fourteen just like me, but taller, and stronger too. “Are you enjoying the tournament?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied, "I am."
"Wonderful, me too. My father, Sir Leofrick is your lord. As you should know, he is the one hosting this magnificent tournament." I have never seen anyone so proud of his father as Bryce was.
“So you're the famous young fighter. I’ve heard so much about you. They say that you’re going to be the next great knight of the land!” I complimented. I was jealous of Bryce, for he had my dream. He would become a knight in only six years, for now he was a knight in training, helping with the cleaning and caring of Fendrel's horse and armor.
"Well thank you. Good luck fighting, William."
I turned my attention back to Fendrel. "Take this," he commanded as he handed me a heavy club. My heart skipped a beat as I walked out onto the field. Compared to William, I was helpless. I may have had the weapon, but he had the experience. When I looked through William's helmet I noticed his eyes staring into mine, as if staring into my soul. Fear struck me, but I pushed it aside and continued forward. When I was ten yards away, I dashed towards him. William struck out his lance, aiming to trip me. But I dodged it and pranced behind him. Swinging my arm forward, I thrashed the heavy club into the back of William's head. He let out a shriek as he slumped to the ground.
I couldn't believe it. With one strike, I had defeated a knight.
With a mighty swing, I tossed my club to the side of the arena. I grabbed William's lance, shield, and armor, leaving him in his undergarments. When I gave Fendrel William's valuables, his mouth was agape. I didn't understand why. The task of being a kipper had been so much easier than I thought. "That was amazing!" Fendrel exclaimed. I couldn't understand what he meant. I didn't think it was that amazing.
Bryce saw the expression on my face, so he said, "Gregory, Fendrel didn't believe that you could actually do it. When he picked you to be his kipper, he was just testing you. He wanted to embarrass of you." When Bryce said this, my heart nearly fell to the ground. He didn't trust me at all. He was just trying to make fun of me. I stood tall, trying not to show the humiliation I felt.
"It's not a bad thing, Gregory. You didn't embarrass yourself. Didn't you see the crowd's uproar when you knocked William out? Your skills are outstanding. You must be proud of yourself."
Fendrel suddenly interrupted and said, "Gregory, Bryce is right. You are a great fighter. That's why I'm going to make an offer."
"What do you mean?" I replied, extremely confused.
"What I mean is that your skills shouldn't be wasted." Fendrel checked that there weren't any people in hearing distance, then he added, "You should become a knight."
I nearly fainted at this request, but at a time like this I would have been ashamed, so I finally gathered up enough courage to speak, "I would be honored to become a knight, Sir Fendrel."
"That's extraordinary," Fendrel replied, "I knew you would."
At that moment I realized the horrible problem. I was poor; my father was no one of importance. In order to become a knight, he had to be a noble. How would I become a knight? I hung my head low and mumbled the words that deflated my dream. They brought it down to the level of impossibility. "I can't," I said regretfully. "I have no money, and I'm just a lowly peasant."
"I can help you with that, Gregory," said Bryce.
This confused me greatly. "How will you get me a different father, a lot more money, a horse, armor and weapons?"
"Oh it won't be too hard for me. Don't forget; I'm the son of a lord. You just wait and see," he replied. "Go get your belongings. Fendrel and I will meet you at the oak tree by the river."
I was too stunned to speak, so I nodded my head by way of reply, my curiosity rising by the second. I knew better than to ask questions, for by the sound of Bryce's voice we were in a hurry. I was glad we were meeting by the oak tree. That's where all my fond memories of my life had taken place when I wasn't working like a pig. For if we were to leave the land I wouldn't ever of seen it again.
When I started running in the direction of my cottage, Peter yelled, "Wait up, Gregory, I'm coming with you." I had to slow my pace so that he could follow. We both jogged past the luscious green fields. I was tempted to looked back, and when my curiosity finally flooded over me I saw Bryce and Fendrel going through the huge oak doors in the castle. Why would they go in there? I asked myself.
When Peter and I got back to our wooden cottage, I went straight to my room. I took my leather bag out from under my bed and packed my only other pair of clothes. I also put in a loaf of bread and my knife. Our house only had two rooms, so we couldn't store very many things in it. As I was about to step out the door Father yelled, "Just where do you think you're off to, Gregory?"
"Father, I'm leaving."
"Where to?" he asked. Father was strict, and he was not to be fooled.
"Off the land. I plan to make a new life as a knight," I replied. "I am fourteen years of age, and I feel that I am quite capable of making my own living."
"NO. I will not let you do that. Your mother and I need you to help us on the land. Farming is difficult, and Peter is not old enough."
"You can not make me do anything, Father. I still love you, for you are my family. I will send you money, because I do not want you to perish. Go ahead and let Peter be the heir of our household. I'm going to be free! I'm going to capture my dreams!" With that I strode out the door. I hoped that father would forgive me, for that would probably be the last time I would ever talk to him.
But when I turned around to get a very last glimpse of our house, my father sighed and yelled, "I wish you luck, Gregory." I gave my father one last smile. I knew he would come around at some point and support me, even if he choose the very last second. I slung my pack over my shoulder and sprinted towards the river. I ran as fast I ever have, for I was anxious to see how both Bryce and Fendrel would complete this miracle.
When I arrived at the oak tree, they were already there, chatting to each other softly. "Hi, Gregory." said Bryce when he noticed me. "First of all, to become a knight, you'll need some cash," he said, tossing me a bag of coins. My jaw dropped, but I accepted it willingly. He then retreated behind an immensely thick tree and came back with a tall, white horse. The sun glinted off his hair, making it shine like a thousand little diamonds. The horse's saddle bags were filled with clinking metal. Longing for this horse gathered up in my heart, and I could already feel a strong bond between this horse and I. But I knew that it had to have been either Bryce's or Fendrel's.
"Is he yours?" I asked Bryce, overcome with curiosity.
"Nope." Bryce replied.
"Oh. So he's Fendrel's?"
"Wrong again. He's yours, Gregory!" I was speechless as he said this so I let my jaw drop open once again. "His name is Bruno. Go ahead, hop on."
I wandered over to Bruno and looked in his saddlebags. I was astonished when I saw heaping piles of some of the most expensive armor there was. "Where did you get all this?" I questioned.
"That's my uncle's old armor, and I took Bruno from the stables. My father gave me a lot of cash when I became a squire, and that's only part of it. Fendrel's going to fill in the position of your dad, for to be a knight you must have an important father."
“Thank you so much. How can I repay you?” I asked.
“By showing you skill on the battlefield,” Fendrel replied, with a wide smile on his face.
Why would he do such a deed for only a peasant? I asked myself. My best guess was that he only was doing this to make himself look grander. Everybody would think that he would be the greatest knight, because he would have trained me. But I didn't care, for I would do anything to become a knight.
“I can do that,” I said, confident in myself. I saw Fendrel and Bryce mounting their horses, so I hopped on Bruno and chuckled silently to myself. Who knew that I would become a knight? No one believed me. But in that moment I wasn't thinking that I had showed them up, instead I was hoping that my success would allow them to believe in their dreams, too. I gave Bruno a tiny kick and we rode off into the brilliant colors of the sunset. I ran into the colors of flags and ribbons, and I rode into the colors of the sun, the colors of hopes and dreams.
By ~ Claire French
Charlemagne the Great ~ by Tenzing
Charlemagne the Great
Late at night the darkness overtook the sky. Charlemagne lay in bed asleep, letting his dreams take over. That night a bright but small figure approached his bed.The angel shook Charlemagne very lightly, just enough to startle him awake. He woke, frightened of what he saw until he saw the full figure. The small angel amazed him. In a light but powerful voice shesaid, ''I'm Elizabeth."
A deep voice from a 6'4" man who was Charlemagne said, "Why have you come to me, Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth motioned him closer; Charlemagne leaned forward. She couldn't take any chances of someone overhearing. She whispered, "You must steal something from someone."
"What?"
"I can't tell you anything. Use your instincts, and it will lead you to what you are looking for." Charlemagne stared at the angel until she had totally vanished into the night sky.
Charlemagne tiptoed down the castle stairs holding the sword that he inherited from his father, Pepin The Short. If you think this might be difficult for a man of his size, you're right. He saw his guards with their large brass shields, steel swords, and arrows. You would have thought since he was the ruler, they would let him out just like that. But no, the castle guards spared no effort in protecting their powerful king.
How can I get past them? he thought to himself. He only had one choice; it was to disguise himself. He always had spare rope with him, so he tackled the guard. Then he tied up the guard and stole his armor. He put on the heavy armor, and walked out the castle into the town still thinking, What must I steal? Very frustrated he took a walk into the night trying to remember every word Elizabeth said.
Still walking in the dark, Charlemagne saw a tall broad man with a sword and a black cloak rapped around him. Charlemagne couldn't see his face in the darkness of the night. Charlemagne drew his sword, ready for anything.
Who is this man? he said to himself, moving bit by bit closer. The cloaked man drew his sword; it made a long ringing sound as if to say, "I'm ready for war". Charlemagne thought, "What will happen?" He felt a long cold shiver drizzle down his back. The only question running through his mind was, Will I survive?
The two men walked closer, and closer still. Fear grew in both of them, and then "ding!!!!!!!!." The swords finally met making a loud clashing noise that rung Charlemagne's ears. Out of the corner of Charlemagne's eye he saw a glinting shape above him. He ducked, just barley dodging the sword. Then with all his momentum and power, Charlemagne swung his sword with all his might.
"AWWWWWWW !!!!!" The cloaked man screamed with pain. The blade of Charlemagne's sword was in the man's arm. Charlemagne pulled the blade quickly out releasing a large stream of blood. The man collapsed immediately, and lay on the ground with his hands cupped over his wounded arm. He ripped off his part of his cloak to cover the wound so he wouldn't bleed to death. Charlemagne lifted up his sword with blood spilling down from the blade on to his finger. He could feel the warmth of the man's blood on his hand. Charlemagne grabs a cloth from his pocket and wiped the blade taking off the blood, and once again the metal shows.
The man threw off his cloak uncovering himself, but being careful not move his arm. Charlemagne was surprised to find Elbegast, a very famous thief and killer. Charlemagne was amazed to see him. In a cold voice that brought chills to Charlemagne he said, "Please let me go. I will leave this town and you will never see me again."
Charlemagne thought, Wait I could use his help to find the thing I'm searching for. He could be my teacher for he is a very famous thief." Mulling this thought over and over, finally he replied, "Only on one condition."
"What's that, sir?"
"You have to help me find something very important."
"YES!! Anything...any way I can help."
Charlemagne was very curious to see if this man would keep his word.
"Where is the thing you desire?"
"That's the problem; I don't know. What I must find is to show up later...,and it must be stolen," said Charlemagne in a cold voice.
"I don't understand,"said Elbegast. Charlemgane finally told him all of what Elizabeth had instructed him to do. Elbegast was amazed by this news.
Surprised, he said, "I finally understand." The came up with a plan as Charlemagne helped him with his wound.
Elbegast and Charlemagne were walking on the streets disguising themselves as farmers. "WAM!!!!" All of the sudden they heard a loud ear racketing sound. Then Charlemagne heard, "SSSHHHHHH, we don't want anyone to hear." Charlemagne snuck up with Elbegast to the room where they heard the sound. Then again they heard talking. "We must." Charlemagne's eyes widened when he recognized the voice. It was his adviser who helped him keep in safety, and there was someone else he didn't yet recongize. They snuck up closer to the window to hear, being careful not making a sound.
"Tomorrow we must murder Charlemagne when he is asleep."
Charlemagne thought, What did I do? How did I deserve this? He was scared out his mind, even for a massive man with power. He could believe a lot of events could transpire, but not this. The betrayal he felt was mountainous.
They inched away from the window to plan. Elbegast whispered, "We must murder them and end their despicable lives now!!".
"NO!!"Charlemagne yelled, looking around to insure no one heard him.
"What? they are planning to kill you," said Elbegast, confused.
"I know, we must capture them, but we will not kill them. They don't deserve to die - no one does...not even you.."
When they stormed into the house, Charlemagne's adviser tried to get his sword, but before he was a inch away, Elbegast's sword was millimeters away from the man's neck. The adviser didn't move at all. He was frightened out of his mind. Obviously Charlemagne had heard their plan. He begged for his life.
That night back in bed, with sun rising he knew the adviser and his wife would be killed the next morning, under the charge of attempted murder. He kept thinking and thinking about the angel and her words. What had she wanted him to do? Had he done it? He finally thought of what it could have been had she not come and sent him on his mission. Suddenly, he sat up in his bed. "That's why!!!" he screamed to himself. The angel had sent him to steal so he wouldn't get murdered.
That morning Charlemagne walked to where his adviser would be decapitated. Everyone was there including guards, adults, children. Everyone had circled the adviser. A huge man with a long sword, who could probably could kill anything, raised the long thick blade over the head of the advisor. He was about to bring down the sword with all his might, when Charlemagne's sword met the executioner's - stopping the blade."WAIT!!!!!!!,"yelled Charlemagne, "Stop!" The blade stilled inches from the adviser's neck. Charlemagne walked up in front of everyone and screamed, "I will let him live.
"What? This man is a disgrace," yelled a man in the crowd.
"Possible, but killing this man is not the right path! Even though he tried to murder me, and there should be a deathly consequence, I will let him go!! This world today has too much killing and suffering, We must help to end that streak. Everyone has the heart to do this. I will let him go if he promises loyalty to us and our great city."
Elbegast thought, This is going to be the greatest ruler of all time. After the long silent moment, the adviser was released. Confusion and relief covered his face. He had to give his word to be loyal, knowing that if he wasn't, there would be major consequences.
Elbagast decided to give up his horrible life of a thief and a murderer and serve Charlemagne.
There is a reason for everything in world. Especially today, and even back in the medieval ages. Revenge is one thing, and compassion is the other. Choose one and it will lead you into your future. The smallest difference can lead to something unimaginable. Charlemagne's story shows anyone can choose the right path. This is the story about the great compassion of Charlemagne the Great.
By ~ Tenzing
Late at night the darkness overtook the sky. Charlemagne lay in bed asleep, letting his dreams take over. That night a bright but small figure approached his bed.The angel shook Charlemagne very lightly, just enough to startle him awake. He woke, frightened of what he saw until he saw the full figure. The small angel amazed him. In a light but powerful voice shesaid, ''I'm Elizabeth."
A deep voice from a 6'4" man who was Charlemagne said, "Why have you come to me, Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth motioned him closer; Charlemagne leaned forward. She couldn't take any chances of someone overhearing. She whispered, "You must steal something from someone."
"What?"
"I can't tell you anything. Use your instincts, and it will lead you to what you are looking for." Charlemagne stared at the angel until she had totally vanished into the night sky.
Charlemagne tiptoed down the castle stairs holding the sword that he inherited from his father, Pepin The Short. If you think this might be difficult for a man of his size, you're right. He saw his guards with their large brass shields, steel swords, and arrows. You would have thought since he was the ruler, they would let him out just like that. But no, the castle guards spared no effort in protecting their powerful king.
How can I get past them? he thought to himself. He only had one choice; it was to disguise himself. He always had spare rope with him, so he tackled the guard. Then he tied up the guard and stole his armor. He put on the heavy armor, and walked out the castle into the town still thinking, What must I steal? Very frustrated he took a walk into the night trying to remember every word Elizabeth said.
Still walking in the dark, Charlemagne saw a tall broad man with a sword and a black cloak rapped around him. Charlemagne couldn't see his face in the darkness of the night. Charlemagne drew his sword, ready for anything.
Who is this man? he said to himself, moving bit by bit closer. The cloaked man drew his sword; it made a long ringing sound as if to say, "I'm ready for war". Charlemagne thought, "What will happen?" He felt a long cold shiver drizzle down his back. The only question running through his mind was, Will I survive?
The two men walked closer, and closer still. Fear grew in both of them, and then "ding!!!!!!!!." The swords finally met making a loud clashing noise that rung Charlemagne's ears. Out of the corner of Charlemagne's eye he saw a glinting shape above him. He ducked, just barley dodging the sword. Then with all his momentum and power, Charlemagne swung his sword with all his might.
"AWWWWWWW !!!!!" The cloaked man screamed with pain. The blade of Charlemagne's sword was in the man's arm. Charlemagne pulled the blade quickly out releasing a large stream of blood. The man collapsed immediately, and lay on the ground with his hands cupped over his wounded arm. He ripped off his part of his cloak to cover the wound so he wouldn't bleed to death. Charlemagne lifted up his sword with blood spilling down from the blade on to his finger. He could feel the warmth of the man's blood on his hand. Charlemagne grabs a cloth from his pocket and wiped the blade taking off the blood, and once again the metal shows.
The man threw off his cloak uncovering himself, but being careful not move his arm. Charlemagne was surprised to find Elbegast, a very famous thief and killer. Charlemagne was amazed to see him. In a cold voice that brought chills to Charlemagne he said, "Please let me go. I will leave this town and you will never see me again."
Charlemagne thought, Wait I could use his help to find the thing I'm searching for. He could be my teacher for he is a very famous thief." Mulling this thought over and over, finally he replied, "Only on one condition."
"What's that, sir?"
"You have to help me find something very important."
"YES!! Anything...any way I can help."
Charlemagne was very curious to see if this man would keep his word.
"Where is the thing you desire?"
"That's the problem; I don't know. What I must find is to show up later...,and it must be stolen," said Charlemagne in a cold voice.
"I don't understand,"said Elbegast. Charlemgane finally told him all of what Elizabeth had instructed him to do. Elbegast was amazed by this news.
Surprised, he said, "I finally understand." The came up with a plan as Charlemagne helped him with his wound.
Elbegast and Charlemagne were walking on the streets disguising themselves as farmers. "WAM!!!!" All of the sudden they heard a loud ear racketing sound. Then Charlemagne heard, "SSSHHHHHH, we don't want anyone to hear." Charlemagne snuck up with Elbegast to the room where they heard the sound. Then again they heard talking. "We must." Charlemagne's eyes widened when he recognized the voice. It was his adviser who helped him keep in safety, and there was someone else he didn't yet recongize. They snuck up closer to the window to hear, being careful not making a sound.
"Tomorrow we must murder Charlemagne when he is asleep."
Charlemagne thought, What did I do? How did I deserve this? He was scared out his mind, even for a massive man with power. He could believe a lot of events could transpire, but not this. The betrayal he felt was mountainous.
They inched away from the window to plan. Elbegast whispered, "We must murder them and end their despicable lives now!!".
"NO!!"Charlemagne yelled, looking around to insure no one heard him.
"What? they are planning to kill you," said Elbegast, confused.
"I know, we must capture them, but we will not kill them. They don't deserve to die - no one does...not even you.."
When they stormed into the house, Charlemagne's adviser tried to get his sword, but before he was a inch away, Elbegast's sword was millimeters away from the man's neck. The adviser didn't move at all. He was frightened out of his mind. Obviously Charlemagne had heard their plan. He begged for his life.
That night back in bed, with sun rising he knew the adviser and his wife would be killed the next morning, under the charge of attempted murder. He kept thinking and thinking about the angel and her words. What had she wanted him to do? Had he done it? He finally thought of what it could have been had she not come and sent him on his mission. Suddenly, he sat up in his bed. "That's why!!!" he screamed to himself. The angel had sent him to steal so he wouldn't get murdered.
That morning Charlemagne walked to where his adviser would be decapitated. Everyone was there including guards, adults, children. Everyone had circled the adviser. A huge man with a long sword, who could probably could kill anything, raised the long thick blade over the head of the advisor. He was about to bring down the sword with all his might, when Charlemagne's sword met the executioner's - stopping the blade."WAIT!!!!!!!,"yelled Charlemagne, "Stop!" The blade stilled inches from the adviser's neck. Charlemagne walked up in front of everyone and screamed, "I will let him live.
"What? This man is a disgrace," yelled a man in the crowd.
"Possible, but killing this man is not the right path! Even though he tried to murder me, and there should be a deathly consequence, I will let him go!! This world today has too much killing and suffering, We must help to end that streak. Everyone has the heart to do this. I will let him go if he promises loyalty to us and our great city."
Elbegast thought, This is going to be the greatest ruler of all time. After the long silent moment, the adviser was released. Confusion and relief covered his face. He had to give his word to be loyal, knowing that if he wasn't, there would be major consequences.
Elbagast decided to give up his horrible life of a thief and a murderer and serve Charlemagne.
There is a reason for everything in world. Especially today, and even back in the medieval ages. Revenge is one thing, and compassion is the other. Choose one and it will lead you into your future. The smallest difference can lead to something unimaginable. Charlemagne's story shows anyone can choose the right path. This is the story about the great compassion of Charlemagne the Great.
By ~ Tenzing
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