In hindsight, Manius thought, perhaps bringing the gladiators from the Ludus to his private villa to entertain guests was not such a good idea with freedom being only a few steps out the door. The temptation was too great, and the gladiators were strong enough to fight for it. Back at his Ludus, a training school for gladiators, things were secure. There was a high wall surrounding the Ludus that would be impossible to climb without risk of severe injury or death. Occasionally a slave would try it. The ones who died trying to escape were lucky. The ones injured were whipped to death, salt being thrown into the wounds after each strike. That was the type of death no one wanted, not even a gladiator. There was little to no risk of escape or rebellion there.
"Damn her" he cursed. He went along with his wife's idea to entertain guests with gladiatorial demonstrations during the feast only because she promised him a distinguished member of the Roman Senate who was highly interested in the gladiatorial games would be among the guests. He was cursing himself for agreeing to it now. Manius wanted to collaborate with the Senator to help gain him some political favor. He loved power and got drunk in its rush. There was never too much. Thankfully the Senator never materialized for the affair.
Manius Cremutius Livianus realized he had been riding nearly two hours. He halted his horse with a pull of the reigns. "Whoa Abastor!" he commanded then unmounted the glorious beast, gave him a pat, and removed his helm. He had a tall, dark muscular silhouette, his toga made him look even bigger than he actually was in the first hint of the blushed skyline. An orchestra of crickets was still audible, an early prelude to the morning light.
Abastor, his horse, was as black as a starless, moonless midnight. The steed's name was a reflection of its satiny onyx coat said to be a result of having the ability to outrun the stars. He proved himself worthy this night. If it were any other steed, the rebellious slaves in pursuit would have captured and tortured him as they did other guests trying to escape an unavoidable fate. He shuddered at the thought.
Of course, Sergia the witch was to thank for the horse's incredible speed. She cast a spell on him so he would feel no pain, and have the endurance of ten strong healthy horses. Therefore, he could run without any handicaps.
As Manius stood and thought about events from the night, he began to fume with escalating ferocity. How dare Rhesus and the rest of the slaves turn on him. He cursed them, spittle wildly escaping from the corners of his mouth as profanity erupted like a hot volcano from his lips. The arteries were bulging and pulsating from his forehead and neck. His face turned a wrathful, fiery red as he anxiously paced back and forth. This made Abastor anxious and he let out an apprehensive whinny, sidestepping to back away from Manius. Manius calmed himself down a bit and then told Abastor in a calmer voice, "Settle down."
He never thought his slaves would chance to resist him. After all, they feared him, and rightfully so. His sadism had no confines. He purposefully punished slaves in front of all the others so they would not want to displease him in any capacity. The punishments were always overly severe and brutal. The last slave to disappoint him had his manhood removed, but not in haste. The man was tied to an olive tree and his manhood cut off in thin calculated slices. This was punishment for not successfully procreating with the childless wife of a well known Roman house. The woman paid well enough for the breeding, but more so for the confidentiality. She tried for several years to give her husband a son. After many failures, she was looking to give her unsuspecting husband an illegitimate heir. Manius blackmailed the woman to keep her money but he was furious that the gladiator failed his at his given task.
His anger peaked. He would show them. He would teach them all a lesson they would never forget. At least for as long as it took them to die. His brow rose and he chuckled to himself at the thought. He vowed he would hunt each slave down one by one and skin them alive. All but Rhesus. He had plans for Rhesus.
Magic and witchcraft in general were frowned upon in Roman society. If any of the socially elite discovered Manius went to a necromancer regularly he would be shunned, or worse. However, magic was responsible for his exclusive societal position. His marriage to Iulia Lepida was not by chance encounter. He carefully planned and executed for it, with the help of a special concoction birthed by darkness to win favor. Iulia's family's social status lifted him up to a dignified place after the marriage.
The use of magic also meant Manius had to find Rhesus alone for the risk of discovery. He could still go to the Roman Senate to plea for help in capturing and punishing the other slaves.
Suddenly, he had a twisted, wicked smile on his face at the images that flashed in his mind of the delicious and cruel punishments he would deliver to each of them. Under his breath, he slowly and gutturally growled a breathy "Yeeeesssss."
His thoughts then turned to the witch. He suspected Sergia Atia hated him, but he paid her well enough, so she did his biddings. His latest purchase, enchanted dragon's blood was meant to meld a complicated spiritual link between two people. Manius took his dose just before the feast. It was his intention to give all the gladiators a sip of the laced wine at the night's end. He wanted a deeper connection to them. He wanted to feel what they felt in the arena, living vicariously through them without the danger of real death. He dipped a dagger in the blood and wine-filled chalice and in the blood itself as well. Sergia gave him very specific instructions to give the blood orally, and only a single drop in one glass of wine for all to take a sip, but this was Manius's backup plan. He was lucky to have cut Rhesus with the dagger before fleeing the villa. It instantly rendered Rhesus unconscious, but he wasn't able to drag the man out of the room while attempting his own escape.
Fighting his way through the atrium to get outside to the stable was only a slight nuisance. When the gladiators in the room saw Rhesus go down with just a flesh wound from his small knife, most in the room decided to make their escapes, fearing the dagger was poisoned. That only left some of the common household slaves and a couple of gladiators who hadn't noticed the act. Of those still inside, all were tangled up in quarrel already.
As he left he saw his wife, Iulia being assaulted in a deed of consummate savagery. It was the only part of the resistance that didn't upset him. In fact, we wished he could have seen it play out until its completion. It was a loose end he no longer had to deal with himself. He deeply loathed the miserable woman. The only reason for his union to her was to help him rise up in the social and political ranks, and she had the correct heritage to make it happen. However, he found that she toyed with him often. Too many promises of meetings with important people that rarely happened. He never had affection for her. For him, the marriage was only to benefit him by giving him access to more power.
Once outside, he was able to hide in the darkness, slithering through the shadows, staying out of sight until he reached the stable where he made his escape.
Now the morning truly arrived. Although only but a brief moment, he could feel Rhesus's presence. He knew the moment the mutinous slave touched light and the connection was made. Just as the witch promised. It would not be too difficult to find him now. Any time Rhesus entered sunlight from now until his death, Manius would know it. Their souls entwined. He would also feel a strong pull, an internal beacon towards Rhesus the closer his geographical location to the gladiator. The only hiding place Rhesus had now was darkness. "And he doesn't even know it" he thought to himself.
He mounted Abastor. He needed to find Sergia for a glimpse into his future, then return to the villa to play a most unfortunate victim before the madness of the night was discovered. As he rode, he thought of how he would wait for the guards to enter the villa and rouse him from a fabricated unconsciousness.