Wrath of the Storm (Mark of the Thief 3)

After they finally flew away, the crowd seated themselves, and Brutus said to me, "You know what must happen, slave boy. Kneel before Caesar, acknowledge your humility before the empire. And accept Caesar's judgment upon you."

To refer to the emperor as Caesar was a title of respect, one of the highest ways to honor him. I knelt as ordered, but not to accept any judgment. Instead, it put my hand within easy reach of the sword the gladiator had dropped. The weapon looked heavy and would cost me far more strength than an arrow. But I had to use what I was given.

When I rose again to my feet, the sword came with me.

"I will accept any judgment that comes to me," I shouted to Brutus. Raising the sword, I added, "But you must accept your judgment too!"

I raised the sword into the air, aimed toward Brutus. As I'd expected, the cost to my magic was high, but I had enough in the Divine Star to do this and perhaps to defend myself afterward. At least, I hoped I did. Once this sword found its target, the reaction would be swift and fierce.

If I was wrong, however, and didn't have the magic, then at least I'd fall knowing that Brutus would come to the Elysian Fields with me. Or in his case, he'd go to Tartarus, where evil men were sent deep into the darkest pit guarded by a monster with fifty sharp-toothed jaws. I liked the idea of him spending some time there, though it was hardly fair to the monster to have to deal with a venomous man like Brutus.

Both my palms were turned to the sky, fingers inward, keeping the sword in place. All it would take was to rotate them toward the emperor's box and the sword would fly at Brutus. My heart pounded with the realization of what I was about to do. If I could do it.

Threatening the Praetors, or even giving them a few bruises and broken bones, was one thing. They had started this war, and whatever I'd done to them had been meant only to save my life and the lives of those I cared about. I tried telling myself that killing Brutus was no different. He would continue on with this war until either my defeat or my death. If I were to have any chance of one day living a normal life, this was the right thing to do. Maybe it was the only thing to do.

And yet I wasn't sure that I could do it. The look in Livia's eyes when I'd told her my plans still haunted me.

My hands began to shake, and with it, the sword quivered too. I closed my eyes, attempting to summon a depth of courage that I knew I did not possess.

Seeing my hesitation, Brutus took the moment to grab Crispus and pull him directly in front of his body. Crispus cried out, and when I opened my eyes, I saw him struggling to move away, but Brutus was keeping him in place.

"What if the sword misses?" Brutus shouted. "Now will you do it?"

No, of course I wouldn't. Immediately, I rotated my palms downward, and the sword fell with it, near my feet.

"Arrest the slave boy!" Probus ordered his guards.

"Wait!" Brutus thrust Crispus aside and spoke to the emperor, muttering words I couldn't hear. Crispus was kept on the outside of their close conversation, though I noticed him trying to speak as well. At one point, Brutus pointed back to Crispus, who shook his head and said a few more things, but the emperor nodded, obviously in favor of Brutus's proposal.

The guards surrounding Probus kept their place, but Crispus's curly blond head disappeared from my sight, so I gathered he had just been given orders to come through the tunnels into the arena where I stood. They wouldn't send guards to arrest me, wouldn't even send Praetors. Or at least, not the Praetors who were my enemies. They would send someone I had just proved I would never attack. I didn't have much time.

I raised the sword again, this time determined to do the thing I had come here to do. Brutus had to die. It was awful, yes, and I hated to be the one to do it, but he wasn't giving me any other choice.

Behind me, I heard the archers rise into position, ready to shoot me upon the emperor's orders. They worried me, but less than before. Brutus wanted me alive, and from his gestures, I knew he was trying to persuade the emperor to hold off on any orders until Crispus entered the arena. At that point, the arrows could be trained upon Crispus. They would tell me to lower the sword and save Crispus's life.

And I would give in, because I always gave in under such threats. So if I was going to use the sword, I had to do it now, then immediately get Crispus and myself out of here. I had to do this.

I couldn't do this.

But I had to.

Brutus was still in the imperial box, facing me with a smug, taunting grin. Either he believed he was safe, or he knew running would be futile. Both of us were about to find out which was true.

My upturned hands were shaking again, but not as much as before. I would just do it. Do what I had come here to do, and know that whatever burden of guilt and punishment followed this crime, at least Brutus would be dead.

Before I did, Crispus burst through a gate to my left, the same one in which gladiators usually made their entrances before the games. He waved at the archers behind us. "Do not shoot! I'm here."

He was here already? Had he somehow flown here or mastered the art of disappearing? Crispus gave a quick bow to the emperor, signaling his respect, and then faced me. His chest was visibly rising and falling. If he was out of breath, that could be explained by the speed with which he had entered the arena. It could also be that he was nervous to approach me now. He was here to carry out Brutus's plans, and we both knew it.

I took a step back. "Do not lay a hand on me. Not yet."

"Lower the sword, Nic. The archers are only waiting on orders to fire. You can't block all the arrows."

"I know that. Go back into the tunnels. You'll be safe there."

He inched closer and in a quieter voice said, "If you can disappear from here, then do it. I'll make it look like I'm trying to reach you but didn't get to you in time."

"What will happen to you if I do that?"