Aela (7 page)

Rom was quickly hassled out by the guards and marched to the desired destination. All the time Rom was desperately trying to think of a plan to help him escape to freedom. People were curious to look at him as he was marched by the guards. There was excitement and an expectant blood lust in their eyes. Everyone loved a spectacle and especially a fight between two famous warriors. No one was going to miss this event at sundown so they hurried about their daily chores, in order to be ready for the big occasion.

Inside the weapons hut Rom was stripped of his clothes, his body washed, then covered with oil by the servants. He was dressed in a short tunic and a richly adorned leather belt encrusted with semi-precious stones was placed around his waist. On his feet were strapped heavy duty leather sandals and a golden circlet was placed around his head. But still no sword or spear was as yet given to him, as Rom had forlornly hoped that would happen, so he could fight his way out of this mess.

As if his thoughts were being read, one of the servants looked at Rom. ‘You will get your weapons when the time comes. We can't have you escaping. Everyone would be so disappointed! We want you to die slowly as Arnor thrusts his sword into your side.'

The servant gave out a loud laugh and the rest followed him in their mirth. ‘Bind his hands in front of his chest. We don't want to lose him before the fun starts.'

Drums could be heard throbbing in the distance. There was a pulsating sensation of excitement in the air, soon the two warriors would meet and one would die. Juno was very aware of his position as High Priest and he was going to use this occasion to his best advantage. He realised he must unite the people solidly behind him, if he was going to carry out his plan of conquest. So he was dressed in his finest robes by the servants, Juno was making sure he was wearing his golden armlets around his upper arms. He had a gold collar around his neck glittering with sparkling stones of many colours, a gold belt around his waist and a gold sword strapped to his side. After much fussing and fuming he finally signalled to his personal entourage that he was ready to commence the proceedings.

CHAPTER 3

The Test

A
ll too soon, it was nearing mid afternoon and Rom knew his time had come to meet Arnor, in combat, in front of the whole community. This was not his choice, but he could do nothing about it and he fervently hoped he would survive the confrontation. Rom could hear the sound of measured footsteps through the wooden door, of a number of unknown persons, who were marching outside along the passageway. The old wooden framed door suddenly sprang open and the small prison cell was filled to capacity with men.

Rom was seized by the nearest guards and propelled out the door with much heaving and grunting from them. He was quickly pushed down the passageway into a side labyrinth, lit by spluttering torches which were attached to the walls. It was not very long before Rom could see sunlight ahead and he soon found himself standing on the periphery of a large arena, open to the skies, with a hot blazing sun beating down on his head.

There was a crowd of people sitting on wooden benches lining the inner circle of the arena. As soon as the people saw Rom, they let out a mighty roar and began to chant, ‘Death to Rom and victory for Arnor,' over and over again, building themselves into a frenzy of excitement.

Then in the background, there was the sound of a roll of drums, the crowd immediately ceased their chanting and all eyes looked towards the grand archway, decorated with gold and semi precious stones, sparkling in the raw sunlight.

Out strode Juno bedecked in his splendid robes, flanked on either side of him with the best and tallest warriors, their spears held in their right hands, whilst carrying a shield across their chests, gripped by their other hand. A deep throated roar was heard from the crowd and Juno graciously acknowledged the people's welcome with a wave of his hand. He walked purposely towards the raised platform, quickly mounting the three steps and elegantly sat on his golden throne.

There was another sound of drums and through the main archway marched Arnor, tall, handsome, and muscular, wearing a short tunic, heavy leather sandals and a jewelled sword buckled at his waist. The champion walked slowly towards Juno and lifted his hand in a salute and bowed low in front of him. Then turned towards the crowd acknowledging their adoration as they roared their approval of their hero.

All the time Rom had been left standing on the sidelines flanked on either side by a guard, with two more guards close behind. Rom quietly sized up his opponent to see if he could detect any physical weaknesses in his bearing. Alas, he could see none in Arnor's appearance, as before him was a picture of a warrior in superb physical condition. Juno sensing the drama of the situation, waved his arm in a down motion for the crowd to be quiet and still. All eyes were on him in a instant, everyone leaning forward straining to catch each word he uttered.

‘Guards bring the prisoner to me immediately,' commanded Juno. There was a murmur of disapproval from everyone as Rom was marched towards Juno sitting on his throne. ‘Well are you now ready to tell me Brude's plan to attack this Temple and my people?' demanded Juno, glaring down at Rom as he stood before him.

There was a further roar and hissing noises from the people. Rom looked straight into Juno's eyes, ‘I do not know of Brude's military strategy. He does not confide in me. He doesn't like me and would like to kill me,' stated Rom in a loud deep voice.

‘You liar, Rom!' shouted Juno, who was now really angry. Rom and those nearest to Juno could see red flecks appearing in his eyes and the veins at Juno's temples and neck were raised and throbbing. Rom feared he would be struck down there and then.

‘This is your last chance, are you going to tell me now or not!' yelled Juno. Rom slowly shook his head from side to side. ‘Then let the combat begin,' bellowed Juno, as he flung back his head with rage and slumped his body down on the seat of the throne exhausted.

The primal roaring sound from the crowd was deafening and sustained for a period before they too began to quieten their voices and settle into their seats waiting for the show to begin. The drums started to beat slowly and methodically in the background, adding to the atmosphere of expectation and urgency. Rom's hands were unbound, and he quickly massaged them to try to prevent further feelings of cramping and pain.

One of the guards came forward, ‘Choose your weapons from here.' The guard pointed to a nearby pile of varied assortment of swords, daggers, shields etc.

Rom quickly rifled through the weaponry making a mental note of the condition of each. He chose a plain bronze sword, not too heavy to hold in his hand and also selected a long dagger which looked well worn but rapier sharp and he thrust this inside the webbing of his right leg attached to his heavy duty sandals. Then he reached for a shield to give him some protection around the head and chest area. His heart was beating fast and he was breathing deeply as he quickly spun around, to face the enemy.

There was Arnor, resplendent in his glittering gold chest armour, with a protective helmet over his head, holding a long oval shaped shield reaching to the ground. He had obviously chosen his weapons from another source. The two men eyed each other from a distance, waiting for the signal from Juno to advance to the middle of the arena.

There was a further roll of the drums and Juno beckoned the two men to go to the centre of the arena. The atmosphere was tense, with everyone concentrating their attention on the two combatants, who were now facing each other a few paces apart. Juno shouted, ‘Start the fighting now!'

A deep throated roar was heard from the crowd, as the two men began to circle each other, looking for an opening to plunge their swords into the body of the other. This manoeuvre continued for a period and the crowd began to grow restless. Some voices were heard to shout, ‘Run your sword through him Arnor, now! Don't be a coward, Arnor! Kill him! Kill the bastard, Arnor and chop off his head.'

Rom fast realised, that this strategy was not working as he would soon tire himself out and then would become an easy prey. So without losing a second further, he lunged forward with his sword straight at Arnor's body. There was a loud sound of metal hitting metal as Arnor used his shield to deflect the blow. An audible sigh was heard from the crowd and then there was general cheering and chanting, ‘Arnor, Arnor, Arnor!' echoing around the arena. Rom was reeling from the clash, just then Arnor used his sword to slash at Rom's legs. Just in time, Rom saw the sword flashing towards him and he nimbly jumped sideways in time to miss the blow.

Both men were now panting heavily, and sweat was pouring down their faces, bodies and legs as they glared at each other. Rom's thoughts raced through his head, he must find a weakness in Arnor's defence.

Without warning Arnor dropped his heavy shield, grasped his sword with both hands and began to slice the air in front of him, left then right. All the time he slowly advanced towards Rom with small but determined steps. Rom was forced to step backwards trying to avoid the flashing sword, as it was whirled in the air by Arnor's strong arm movements. Several blows from Arnor's sword hit Rom's shield sending shock waves up his arm.

With a quick twist sideways, Rom rolled on the ground, dropped his shield and then thrust his sword at a slant upwards towards Arnor's body. He plunged the tip of the sword into the side of Arnor's body.

There was a gasping sound from the crowd, as they saw Rom's blade connect with Arnor's torso. Arnor reacted to the sword thrust and staggered as Rom withdrew the blade of the weapon from Arnor's body. Blood poured out of the wound as Arnor dropped his sword and slowly fell to the ground.

The crowd went wild with rage. Their beloved hero was wounded! A chant began to resound from the main body of the mob, ‘Foul, foul, foul play. Death to the enemy. Death to Rom.'

Juno quickly realised, that the crowd would riot, so with a crisp movement of his hand, the drums started to beat very loudly and gradually the crowd quietened. Arnor was carried away on his shield, back through the archway, in order to be treated for his wound. Then Juno stood in front of his throne, ‘Guards bring Rom to me.'

Rom in the meantime had been completely surrounded by guards with their spears raised pointed towards his chest. Still with the bloodied sword in his hand, he faced the circle of armed guards. One of the guards motioned to Rom to throw down his sword on the ground immediately.

Realising the difficulty of his situation, he complied with the order from the guard. Surrounded by guards Rom was marched towards Juno who continued to stand waiting for him.

As Rom approached, Juno was very aware of his perilous position with the crowd. Their hero had been wounded and could die. Juno was not happy with the situation as he had hoped Rom would have been killed by Arnor. If that was so, then the crowd would have been overjoyed. Their hero would have won and his own popularity would have soared.

‘You have placed me in a difficult position,' Juno said to Rom. ‘You should be dying, not Arnor. What am I to do with you?'

The crowd continued to chant non-stop ‘Death to the enemy. Death to Rom!' and worked themselves into a frenzy.

‘Guards take him away, I will deal with him later.' shouted Juno.

As Rom was lead away, some of the people began to realise what was happening and a few leapt to their feet and started running towards Rom and the guards. Seeing this, a number of the guards turned to face the small group of people with their spears at the ready, whilst the rest of the guards hustled Rom through a side entrance and half dragged and pushed him along the tunnel. Rom was soon once again in his prison cell, unceremoniously thrown on the floor and the door slammed shut.

Rom felt as if he had achieved nothing and he was back where he had started, but this time round he had killed the people's hero, Arnor. All of a sudden he felt completely exhausted in body and mind. He found himself falling in a exhausted sleep, as he lay sprawled out on the prison floor. He felt as though he had been pushed down a long dark tunnel and he heard a voice calling him, ‘Rom, Rom, Rom.'

There in the blur of his mind, he thought he saw a faint figure looking like Aela sitting on a cave floor with her hands outstretched towards him. ‘Come to me Rom, I need you.' Then his mind went blank and he heard and saw no more.

How long he had been lying there, Rom could not tell as he slowly opened his eyes, taking in his gloomy surroundings. Nearby someone had left an oil lamp with its flickering wick providing some light to the darkened room. Rom's eyes focused on a round loaf of bread, with what appeared to be a hunk of cheese and a cylinder shaped vessel. Cautiously and wearily Rom moved his arms and legs, then gingerly rolled on his side. His whole body ached, especially the arm that took the major impact from the blows Arnor delivered on Rom's shield with his sword, during the contest.