Guardian of Rome (#2 in Gladiator Series)

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

 

Rheia had been ordered into Argus’s, ‘the Destroyers’, close council of a hundred elite soldiers.

Pompeia had told Rheia that she was indispensable to the operation but Rheia knew the truth.

She knew that in Pompeia’s mind she was simply another piece to be moved around on the board but who wasn’t?

Every soldier in the Legion was a person to be sacrificed for the betterment of this empire; their sacrifice allowed a new age to dawn and freedom to survive.

If Rheia had to give her life in battle to keep Krista from gaining control then it was a price she would gladly play.

The Gladiatrix Rheia had fought in the arena was impulsive, arrogant, single-minded and relentless.

She wanted revenge, Rheia knew that, but once she got it, then what?

What would the Gladiatrix do once she gained power? She knew how to swing a sword, not how to govern an empire.

The entirety of Rome, its provinces and allies would fall for one woman’s vengeance.

Krista had not thought of anything past slipping her dagger into Pompeia’s flesh and stopping her heart.

Rome needed an emperor; its people needed guidance or chaos would ensue.

Rheia was saving millions of innocent souls by helping Pompeia to kill Krista.

But the possibility of dying was not what scared her right then.

The object that scared Rheia in that present moment was the seven foot giant with bulging arms that stood in front of her.

“Draw your sword,” Argus growled at her, sweat glistening on his skin.

Looking around his rather large physique, Rheia clocked the line of wounded soldiers who had already been ‘tested’.

Argus was dedicated and meticulous.

He took nothing to chance, especially the training and skills of the men be would be ordering into battle.

Rheia turned from the wounded and gave Argus her best confident look even as her heart palpitated in intimidation.

The sun over her head was blocked by his sheer size, casting her in his shadow.

“We need to get moving,” Rheia told him, ignoring his request. She was a gladiator like him; she had no need to be tested like the sons of Rome who stood against the wall.

“Draw your sword,” Argus spat at the ground, the sweat on his skin making the patches of blonde hair that covered his scalp to glisten revoltingly and the lines on his face to deepen harshly.

Rheia took an unsteady breath as she saw that she was not getting away from his request; she may have been attached to his division by the Empress but it offered her no special treatment.

The sand of the training arena crunched beneath her boots, invoking powerful memories of screaming crowds and cries of pain.

Rheia was thinking this when she caught the muscle in his upper right shoulder move out of the corner of her eye.

Diving forward and rolling over the sand, Rheia jumped to her feet and spun to face him.

A horrible grimace was stretched over his lips; he was impressed that she had dodged his attack.