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Boy Gladiators of Capua, Book 1	By : Jake Category: S through Z > Spartacus: Blood and Sand Views: 287 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Spartacus: Blood and Sand, and make no money from writing stories based on it.

Chapter List
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1. The Three Gladiators
At the centre of the arena in Capua, a boy gladiator stood alone under the expectant gaze of the crowd. He wore a loincloth along with minimal armour, which comprised a shoulder pauldron on his left arm and guards on both wrists. He held a gleaming sword at his side.
Twelve-year-old Lykos possessed a physique that reflected both his strength and his agility. His torso showed noticeable muscle tone with emerging abdominal definition, underlining his high level of physical training and his readiness for combat. His face was youthful but it carried a striking seriousness; his expression was focused and calm.
Lykos's black hair was medium in length, kept practical for combat but with a slightly tousled appearance. He stood with a confident, balanced posture. His stance was solid, yet there was a lightness to his frame, indicating his readiness to adapt and move quickly if needed. He carried himself with a quiet confidence, showing that he was both aware of his abilities and prepared for any challenge.
Lykos had entered a life of slavery only a few months before. He was born into a proud and noble family with a long tradition of military service; from a young age, he was trained to follow in the footsteps of his forebears. But then his family was embroiled in political intrigue, and a trusted ally betrayed them. As a result, they lost their status and wealth, and Lykos was taken as a slave to settle fabricated debts that were part of the plot against them.
Less than a week after his twelfth birthday, Lykos found himself stripped of his birthright and forced into the life of a gladiator. The betrayal by someone his father had trusted shook him deeply, but rather than breaking him, it steeled his resolve. He saw the arena as both a punishment and an opportunity – a way to reclaim his lost honour and to prove himself worthy of his family's legacy.
Lykos had a solid foundation in combat skills and physical conditioning even before he was taken as a slave, thanks to his early training at home. This not only helped him practically in his new life as a boy gladiator, but had also instilled in him a sense of discipline and honour. He looked on his time in the arena, although he found it challenging, as an extension of the path he had already been on, albeit under drastically different circumstances.
There were whispers and murmurs of anticipation from the crowd as a second boy gladiator entered the arena. Also armed with a sword and with leather bracers on his knees and wrists, thirteen-year-old Kaelus struck a formidable and imposing figure despite his obvious youth. He had a well-muscled physique with a clearly defined six-pack, indicative of the rigorous physical training that had dominated his life for the past three years. His frame was solid and powerful, with broad shoulders and strong arms.
Kaelus stood with a confident, upright posture, exuding strength and readiness for battle. In contrast to his body, his face was very youthful in appearance, but also marked by a certain intensity. His expression was grave, and his eyes were striking and determined. His dark brown hair was cut short, practical for a fighter, and was also neatly kept, a sign of the boy's discipline and focus.
Aside from his wrist bracers, Kaelus refused ever to wear any armour above his waist in the arena, fully exposing his toned, muscular body for the duration of each and every battle. This made him something of a favourite with the crowd. Kaelus's bare torso emphasised his vulnerability and youth, but his visible muscles served as a symbol of his hard-earned strength and skill. This duality made Kaelus an intriguing figure, as his power was on full and constant display, yet he was always highly susceptible to harm.
Kaelus's decision to fight without upper body armour also accentuated the stark contrast between his youthful face and his chiselled physique. His muscular body reflected the intense training and battles he had endured, while his face was a reminder of the innocence and childhood that had been stripped away from him. This contrast evoked a mix of awe and sympathy from the crowd, who saw a boy forced into circumstances that had shaped him into something extraordinary yet tragic.
At the age of ten, Kaelus had voluntarily accepted the role of boy gladiator to prevent his seven-year-old brother from being taken as a slave to settle their parents' debts. Unable to face his own feelings of desolation and sorrow, Kaelus had thrown himself body and soul into his training. Now, at the age of thirteen, he had developed not only an incredibly muscular physique, but also a wealth of knowledge and experience as a warrior.
Driven by the sacrifice he had made and the pain of his separation from his family, Kaelus's ultimate ambition was to earn his freedom and secure a better life for himself and his younger brother. He saw the arena as a means to an end – a way to gain enough wealth, reputation or favour to achieve his goal.
The tension between Kaelus and Lykos was palpable as they squared up to each other in front of the eager crowd. Then, without warning, Lykos lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air with deadly precision. Kaelus spun on his heel, using the momentum to deliver a swift kick to Lykos's side. The impact was powerful; Lykos grunted and staggered, but then advanced again.
Kaelus waited, every muscle in his body coiled and ready. The next strike came, Lykos feinting to the left before swinging his sword from the right. Kaelus managed to parry the blow, then he pushed forward, using the close proximity to his advantage. He struck out with his bracers, the metal inlay of one clashing against Lykos's shoulder pauldron with a sharp clang.
The crowd roared as the battle intensified. As Lykos came at him again, Kaelus dropped low and swept his leg out, catching Lykos off guard and sending him sprawling to the ground. Kaelus was ready in an instant, his sword levelled at his opponent with the intention of forcing a surrender, but Lykos rolled to the side, then he sprang up and charged.
As their blades locked, the two boys faced each other. Kaelus was tired, breathing hard, his muscles aching from the intensity of the fight. But he could see that Lykos was in a similar condition, and he knew that he himself had the advantage of brute strength – this was his chance.
With a final burst of speed, Kaelus darted forward, his movements a blur. He faked a strike to Lykos's left, then at the last second he pivoted and struck to the right, his bracer catching Lykos in the side. The younger boy grunted in pain, his guard faltering just long enough for Kaelus to follow up with a swift kick that sent Lykos crashing to the ground.
Kaelus stood over his fallen opponent, his chest heaving with the effort of the fight, and pressed the point of his sword to Lykos's throat.
'Well fought, Kaelus,' Lykos said, his voice rough but sincere. 'The victory is yours.'
Kaelus nodded, lowering his weapon and extending his free hand to help Lykos up. The crowd erupted into cheers, their voices echoing through the arena as the two young gladiators stood side by side, the heat of the battle still fresh between them.
The cheers of the crowd had barely begun to fade when a shadow darted across the arena. Kaelus, still catching his breath after his gruelling battle with Lykos, turned just in time to see a figure sprinting towards him, swift and light-footed.
It was Tarin, who at eleven years old was the youngest gladiator in the ludus to which all three boys belonged. Tarin wore slightly more armour than Lykos, including wrist guards, leg guards and two shoulder pauldrons. He held a short sword in his right hand, and his stance was confident.
His lean, agile build reflected both his cunning and his youthful energy. Unlike the other two boys, Tarin showed no signs of developing visible abdominal muscles, but his body was fit and athletic, indicating a focus on agility and speed over raw power.
Tarin's expression was alert and intelligent. His sandy brown hair was a bit longer than Kaelus's, and was noticeably tousled, giving him a slightly wild, untamed look. The boy's posture was relaxed yet ready, with a lightness in his stance that suggested he was always prepared to move quickly and decisively.
Tarin was born in a small, impoverished village on the outskirts of the empire. He had been orphaned during infancy and did not have a happy childhood. Just over a year ago, when Tarin was barely ten, his village had been raided by slavers who captured many of the children, including himself. Unlike most who were taken, Tarin quickly realised that his best chance of survival was to forget his old life and adapt to his new reality.
Thrown into the brutal world of gladiatorial training, Tarin's sharp mind and quick reflexes allowed him to survive where others would have struggled. He learned to fight not only with his body but also with his wits, using his smaller size and agility to his advantage in the arena. He quickly gained a reputation for being unpredictable and clever, often outsmarting opponents who underestimated him due to his age and build.
Tarin's eyes, sharp and focused, were now locked on Kaelus, who stood as the exhausted victor. The crowd's murmur swelled into a new wave of excitement – this was an unexpected challenge.
Kaelus barely had time to steady himself before Tarin was upon him. The younger boy's first strike was a blur, a feint to the left before a quick jab aimed at Kaelus's exposed side. Weary from his battle with Lykos, Kaelus moved to block, but his reactions were slower now, his limbs heavy with fatigue. Tarin's blade made contact with Kaelus's ribs, drawing a line of blood in the process.
The sting of the wound snapped Kaelus back into focus. He swung his bracered arm in a wide arc, aiming to catch Tarin off guard, but Tarin was too quick, ducking under the blow and rolling to the side, coming up on Kaelus's other flank. The crowd roared, enthralled by the speed and agility of the new contender.
Kaelus tried to keep up, his eyes following Tarin's rapid movements, but each step felt like wading through deep water. His muscles protested with every motion; his breath came in ragged gasps. Tarin was relentless, darting in and out of Kaelus's range, landing quick strikes that chipped away at the older boy's defences.
Despite his fatigue, Kaelus managed to land a solid blow, his right wrist bracer connecting violently with Tarin's left shoulder pauldron. The impact sent Tarin staggering back but he quickly recovered, a fierce determination burning in his eyes. Tarin knew he could not overpower Kaelus, but neither did he need to – he just had to outlast him.
Tarin moved in again, this time going low, aiming to sweep Kaelus's legs out from under him. Kaelus saw the move coming and jumped back, but not far enough. Tarin's leg caught his ankle; Kaelus stumbled, his balance faltering. He managed to stay on his feet, but Tarin pressed his advantage, closing the distance and slashing at Kaelus's side.
Kaelus blocked the strike, but the force of it drove him back. His vision blurred at the edges, the world around him seeming to tilt as exhaustion weighed down on him. He could hear the crowd, their cheers a distant roar in his ears, but all his focus was on Tarin, who circled him like a predator sensing the end.
Tarin lunged again, and this time Kaelus was not fast enough; Tarin's blade slipped past his defences and the flat slammed hard into his thigh. Kaelus snarled in pain, his leg buckling under him. He fell on one knee, his strength finally giving out.
Tarin paused, his chest heaving with exertion, his eyes locked on Kaelus. For a moment, it seemed as though he might hesitate, but then his expression hardened. With a final burst of speed, Tarin surged forward, his sword aimed at Kaelus's exposed chest. The crowd gasped in surprise and anticipation – Tarin was going for the kill.
But Kaelus, even in his weakened state, was not beaten yet. In a last-ditch effort, he threw himself to one side, rolling to avoid the strike. Tarin's blade sliced across Kaelus's exposed back, causing a wide arc of blood to fly into the air, and struck the sand at the point where Kaelus's heart had been a bare moment before.
Kaelus tried to push himself up, but his body refused to obey. He was spent, every ounce of his strength drained by the battle. He could only watch as Tarin turned back towards him, determination etched on his young face.
Tarin approached slowly, his sword lowered but ready. Kaelus, breathing heavily, met his gaze, the two warriors sharing a moment of silent understanding. Physically unable to offer any further resistance, Kaelus prepared himself for the fatal blow.
Tarin's sword remained by his side. He extended his free hand to Kaelus, helping him to his feet. The crowd erupted into applause, their voices echoing through the arena. Kaelus, though defeated, stood tall beside Tarin, acknowledging the skill and tenacity of his opponent.
The crowd began chanting the names of all three boys. As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the sand, Kaelus, Tarin and Lykos stood together, their rivalry tempered by a deep sense of mutual respect.
The ludus was quiet in the evening. The communal bath, a stone-lined pool fed by a small, warm spring, was dimly lit by flickering torches. The bubbling water offered welcome relief to aching muscles and tired bodies.
Kaelus, Tarin and Lykos stood together in the shallow pool, their bodies glistening with water and oil. All three boys could feel the tension of the day's fights still lingering in the air. Tarin was the first to break the silence between them, his voice carrying a mixture of contrition and unease.
'Kaelus,' he said, 'when we fought today... I made a decision I'm not proud of.' He paused, looking down at the water that swirled around his legs. 'I went for the kill.'
Kaelus was scrubbing the dirt from his arms with a sponge, but his movements slowed as he absorbed Tarin's words. He looked over at the younger boy, his expression unreadable.
'You did what you were trained to do,' Kaelus said evenly, though there was an edge to his voice. 'We all know what the arena demands of us.'
Lykos, standing between Tarin and Kaelus, glanced from one to the other, but he stayed silent, sensing that this was their moment. The two had lived in the ludus together for the best part of a year before Lykos himself had arrived, and he was not yet fully certain how he fitted into the dynamic between them.
Kaelus turned to face Tarin, the water rippling around him. He was taller, more imposing, but in this moment he sensed a weight pressing down on him, making him feel smaller. He suddenly felt the lingering pain from the two lacerations that Tarin had cut into his torso far more strongly than he had since they were first inflicted.
'You had every right to end it,' Kaelus continued. 'You should have finished me that second time. But you didn't.' He looked Tarin in the eye. 'Why?'
Tarin met his gaze, his eyes steady despite the uncertainty in his voice. 'I couldn't do it. I had you down, defenceless... but something stopped me. I couldn't take your life, Kaelus. I didn't want to be the one to end you. Not like that.'
Kaelus's chest tightened, a mix of emotions swirling within him – gratitude, frustration, confusion. He had always prided himself on his strength and on his ability to survive, but today his life had been spared not by his own skill, but by the mercy of a boy two years younger than himself.
'Thank you,' Kaelus said finally.
Tarin nodded, but there was no triumph in his expression. 'I didn't do it for thanks, Kaelus. I just... I didn't want to lose someone who fights like you do. We're stronger together.'
Lykos, sensing the tension ease, finally spoke up. 'We are stronger together, all three of us. And we'll need to be if we're going to survive this place.'
Kaelus glanced at Lykos, then back at Tarin, feeling a shift within himself. They were rivals in the arena, but out of it they were comrades, bound by the same chains of fate.
'Yes,' said Kaelus. 'We're stronger together.'
'We're all agreed, then?' said Lykos. 'From now on, we three are a team.'
Tarin nodded firmly. 'Where one of us goes, the others follow.'
'All right,' said Kaelus, allowing a small smile to cross his face. 'We're a team.'
The three boys continued to bathe in silence after that, each lost in his own thoughts. The water cooled the heat of the day's battles, but the bond forged in the arena was stronger than ever before.
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Boy Gladiators of Capua, Book 1