Empire Of The Undead by Ahimsa Kerp Read Free Book Online

elephant fields.
    The Parthian could think quickly. He instantly raised his off hand and swirled it in an unspoken command. His men eased back, toward the gate.
    “Get back!  Run, you dogs,” Iullianus roared. His hand leaked blood into the earth.
    The leader of the hunters glared at him with hatred, and his expression spoke clearly enough. Another time.
    The hunters slipped out of the compound and departed into the desert.
    Iullianus willed his heart to stop beating.
    “What happened?”  One of the trainers asked.
    “Treachery,” Iullianus said. Instinct told him that lies would serve better than truth. “They wanted it all.”  Better to keep it vague.  Someone cried out as they discovered Amasis lying dead on the ground.
    The others looked at him carefully. Iullianus was grateful once again for the old man’s silence. He barely knew these men, so they had no reason to trust him. On the other hand, they didn’t know him well enough to assume that he was lying, either.
    “He never should have hired that lot,” another trainer said at last. “I warned him. You can’t ever trust a Parthian.”  They moved away, to comfort Amasis’ wife and children. Others went to ensure that the gates were closed. Iullianus was alone with his pain.
    Almost alone.
    The old man moved closer. He had his little shovel in his hand as he stared at Iullianus, hand dripping darkly onto the earth. The old one looked at Amasis, lifeless, with a sword through his heart. He looked at the two remaining men of the hunting party, one dead, and the other blowing blood through his flattened nose. He leaned on his shovel, looked right at Iullianus.
    “Useless,” he said.
     

 
    CHAPTER IV
     
    Rome: 79 CE, Spring
     
    Felix screamed with excitement. He was one of tens of thousands who had come for the grand opening of the amphitheater. The first day of games had been declared a holiday, and even the slaves had the day free. Nominally, they were able to do whatever they wished, but one would be hard-pressed to find a slave in Rome not attending the games. Felix had been in Rome for six years now, and a chance to watch the games was as good as his year could get.
    Hyacinthus sat beside him. The big Greek slave was even fatter than the day they’d met, and he’d come to the games more than reluctantly. “Those are entertainments for the young and the stupid, and I’ve seen enough real blood not to lust after deadly entertainment,” he’d complained. Felix had begged to get him to come.  Despite his earlier misgivings, the Greek was shouting as loudly as anyone was. Below them, on the floor of the amphitheater, two massive bulls with deadly sharp horns were trying to kill a raging elephant.
    The two of them were sitting high up, above even the highest marble seats, where wooden benches had been hastily added to accommodate the crowds. It was early, and many of the people around them were still eating their ientaculum. Rich and poor, the first meal for most in Rome was fresh-baked bread dipped in a mixture of wine and water. For Felix, this was enough. Hyacinthus always ate more, but today he had a few meaty handfuls of dates and olives.
    It was the first morning of a hundred days of games. Each day would follow a similar pattern: the morning was filled with battles amongst the animals. The current clash involved some of the biggest and fiercest, but later days would feature lions, leopards, boars, buffalo, ostriches, camels, crocodiles, and, rumor had it, a rhinoceros. Over the hundred days of games, some five thousand animals would perish to bathe the new arena in blood. Mostly they fought each other, but some were saved for the afternoon.
    It was then that the deserters, prisoners-of-war, and criminals would be killed. These executions could be so brutal that it was customary for the Emperor to leave, but Felix was eager to see them. Many of the executions would be creative and entertaining. Crucifixions were boring, but for these