J
Juan1234
Guest
It wasn't usually my job. My job was to clean the stalls where the prisoners were held the night before being executed in the arena. Usually they would be taken to the stalls of the coliseum around mid-morning the day before, and they would spend the rest of that day, then the night, and part of the next day, waiting for the guards to come for them. By the time I came, they were usually gone, and I cleaned their empty stalls.
Friday was different. It was especially busy, and everyone coordinating the show was running around, shouting at each other.
"Those lions should be out there by now!!"
"We're supposed to have five crosses at this gate! Why are there only four!? Get another cross over here NOW!"
"Where's the Alaman!? The lictors are standing around waiting for him - go and get him!!"
I was rushing around too, and trying desperately not to get in the way. Then my master told me to go to stall 3 on the left by the fourth gate. I went, but found it shut. When I looked inside, there was a girl hugging her knees in the corner and rocking. I thought it must be the wrong stall. I panicked for a moment. I didn't want to bother my master with the problem. But what else was there to do? So I returned.
"Sir-"
"WHAT?" He turned on me, waiting without patience or me to state my business.
"Sir, there's a girl in that stall."
"I know!! Get her out! They'll be here for her as soon as the lions finish with that Christian family. There's only two of them left."
I wanted to ask more, and I almost did. But I had seen the guards take the prisoners out and ready them for the executioners. I thought it better to do my best than to ask more questions.
"She's small, she won't hurt you," said my master, slightly calmer. I nodded and ran back.
I opened the stall and stood before the girl, who looked up at me with the most sorrowful blue eyes I have ever seen. I was probably frowning. I wanted to behave like a guard.
"Do you speak Latin?" I asked. She looked at me blankly. My heart pounded. "Get up," I said, not quite as roughly as I meant to. She understood my gesture and stood. She was even younger than I was!
"Take off your clothes," I motioned as explicitly as I could. She understood, but shook her head and covered her face, weeping. My master would wonder what was taking so long. I stepped forward, took her tunic with both hands by the collar, and tugged it down, ripping it open slightly. It was harder than the guards made it look, but at least this weeping girl wasn't resisting. The first tug had only bared her shoulders. I kept going, tugging and ripping until her breasts were bare. Why was I doing this? Soon the tunic was at her hips, and another few pulls brought it to a pile about her ankles. I took a step back. There she was, naked, and shaking. I was shaking some too. She did her best to cover herself with her arms and hands. It didn't feel as good as I had expected to act like a guard. Such sorrowful eyes!
Time was passing! I took her by the shoulders and turned her around, then tied her hands behind her. Next I led her out of the stall to stand and wait outside the door. She kept looking in my eyes. I wished she wouldn't. I had done this to her!
I had done the job. She was there where she was supposed to be, bound and naked, so that the executioners could take her quickly and directly to the arena without a fuss. I went into the stall to clean.
After a few minutes, during which she and I were very aware of each others' presence on the other side of the bars, they came for her.
"Oh, perfect," one of the growled. My heart pounded. "She's supposed to have a patibulum!" My heart sank. "Boy!" he was addressing me now. "Go get that patibulum! We're already late!" I sprinted across the broad corridor and fetched the beam and brought it to them - three of them, surrounding the girl. She wept quietly as they cut her bonds, dropped the heavy beam roughly across her shoulders, and tied it to her - or her to it. It was all very fast. Then one of them had his boot on her naked buttocks, shoving her forward, trotting unsteadily into the sunlight. Then she was gone.
Friday was different. It was especially busy, and everyone coordinating the show was running around, shouting at each other.
"Those lions should be out there by now!!"
"We're supposed to have five crosses at this gate! Why are there only four!? Get another cross over here NOW!"
"Where's the Alaman!? The lictors are standing around waiting for him - go and get him!!"
I was rushing around too, and trying desperately not to get in the way. Then my master told me to go to stall 3 on the left by the fourth gate. I went, but found it shut. When I looked inside, there was a girl hugging her knees in the corner and rocking. I thought it must be the wrong stall. I panicked for a moment. I didn't want to bother my master with the problem. But what else was there to do? So I returned.
"Sir-"
"WHAT?" He turned on me, waiting without patience or me to state my business.
"Sir, there's a girl in that stall."
"I know!! Get her out! They'll be here for her as soon as the lions finish with that Christian family. There's only two of them left."
I wanted to ask more, and I almost did. But I had seen the guards take the prisoners out and ready them for the executioners. I thought it better to do my best than to ask more questions.
"She's small, she won't hurt you," said my master, slightly calmer. I nodded and ran back.
I opened the stall and stood before the girl, who looked up at me with the most sorrowful blue eyes I have ever seen. I was probably frowning. I wanted to behave like a guard.
"Do you speak Latin?" I asked. She looked at me blankly. My heart pounded. "Get up," I said, not quite as roughly as I meant to. She understood my gesture and stood. She was even younger than I was!
"Take off your clothes," I motioned as explicitly as I could. She understood, but shook her head and covered her face, weeping. My master would wonder what was taking so long. I stepped forward, took her tunic with both hands by the collar, and tugged it down, ripping it open slightly. It was harder than the guards made it look, but at least this weeping girl wasn't resisting. The first tug had only bared her shoulders. I kept going, tugging and ripping until her breasts were bare. Why was I doing this? Soon the tunic was at her hips, and another few pulls brought it to a pile about her ankles. I took a step back. There she was, naked, and shaking. I was shaking some too. She did her best to cover herself with her arms and hands. It didn't feel as good as I had expected to act like a guard. Such sorrowful eyes!
Time was passing! I took her by the shoulders and turned her around, then tied her hands behind her. Next I led her out of the stall to stand and wait outside the door. She kept looking in my eyes. I wished she wouldn't. I had done this to her!
I had done the job. She was there where she was supposed to be, bound and naked, so that the executioners could take her quickly and directly to the arena without a fuss. I went into the stall to clean.
After a few minutes, during which she and I were very aware of each others' presence on the other side of the bars, they came for her.
"Oh, perfect," one of the growled. My heart pounded. "She's supposed to have a patibulum!" My heart sank. "Boy!" he was addressing me now. "Go get that patibulum! We're already late!" I sprinted across the broad corridor and fetched the beam and brought it to them - three of them, surrounding the girl. She wept quietly as they cut her bonds, dropped the heavy beam roughly across her shoulders, and tied it to her - or her to it. It was all very fast. Then one of them had his boot on her naked buttocks, shoving her forward, trotting unsteadily into the sunlight. Then she was gone.
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The idea was to feel all the awkwardness of these two people thrust into this circumstance. Neither hates the other. Neither has any particular reason to do anything to the other. And yet, here they are, and he's stripping her naked and tying her up so that she can be crucified. Oh well... Maybe next time. 
That cries, for more!
