The Last Gladiator

By Daniel Ottalini

What makes a gladiator? Brawn? Showmanship? Skill? Heart? For Lucia Rhodanus Fortem, the arena is a ticket to fame, fortune, and belonging.

But the long familiar arena is changing, and gladiators are, quite literally, a dying breed. Their replacements - Mechagladiators - piloted constructs made of the best Roman technology, stand ready to take their place on the hard packed dirt of the Coliseum.

What humans can stand against the tide of progress? Who dares face down a mechanical beast? How can the power of human connection forge a bond stronger than steel?

The last gladiator in Rome faces the toughest challenge of all in this prequel novella for the Steam Empire Chronicles, Daniel Ottalini’s Roman Alternate History World.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Daniel Ottalini
• Release date: May 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463313077

Daniel Ottalini

Daniel Ottalini is a teacher, writer, and amateur historian. His interests include reading everything from nonfiction to sci-fi and amazing others with his knowledge of random facts. When not working, he is most likely writing some more or catching much needed rest. He lives in Maryland.

Book preview

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Table Of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Epilogue: Twenty Five Years Later

The Last Gladiator

Copyright © 2020 by Daniel Ottalini All rights reserved.

First Edition: 2020

Cover and Formatting: Streetlight Graphics

This book is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, events, places, products, organizations, departments, or facilities mentioned are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, alive or dead, is coincidental. Locations of places are somewhat accurate except when the author simply made stuff up.

No portion of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any way or form, whether it is by digital, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or other means. No portion of this book may be stored in a retrieval system without the express written permission of the author. All Rights Reserved.

For my dedicated

Beta Readers

Alex, Lena & Matt

Lucia came alive with your help.

For S -

Who made me rewrite the ending at the 11th hour.

Thank you.

Chapter 1

S

team billowed around the entrance

to the train cabin. Passengers clutching satchels and heavy bags mingled with businessmen in formal overcoats and soldiers in uniform. With a hefty ker-chunk, a sharply dressed porter opened the door.

Rome, Central Station! First and last call!

Lucia Rhodanus Fortem muscled her way through the packed platform. Excuse me, s’cuse me. She said, pushing her way towards the main staircase.

The station in Neapolis had nothing on this place, Lucia decided. Roma Central was slammed with commuters, tourists, and traders. Upon ascending to the main station level, the traffic only increased, but only the tourists seemed to notice the beautifully frescoed ceiling and the intricate chandeliers. Iron grilled elevators moved between floors with a whirring of gears and cogs, while vendors called out from a plethora of shops nestled in alcoves along the walls over five stories tall. Open air terraces ran along each layer, creating the effect of a massive valley within the steel trussed station. Stomach-grumbling food smells mingled with the unwashed scents of travelers.

Checking her money-pouch, she fished around for a moment. People streamed around her, some grumbling at her as they passed by. Not enough to buy a hot meal, she decided. The motion of the crowd began to push her to the side, and she allowed it, finding a space by the wall between a flower shop and a cobbler. Her hand felt the familiar slip of creased newsprint, torn from the Neapolis Standard, and she pulled it out, excitement flaring in her chest.

Come one, come all! Brave and daring heroes wanted for the arena. Join the Ludus Magnus! The famous school of gladiators in central Rome. Earn incredible amounts of money! Fame & fortune await the bold and the talented.

Inquire in person at the Ludus Magnus! Located next to the Coliseum in Rome.

Hurry, hurry, hurry for this final training session

under the illustrious Lanista Horatio Ilyensio, famed champion of the arena for six years.

An address and several illustrations of gladiators in combat filled out the rest of the advertisement.

Gladiator training, eh?

The cobbler was standing against the wall next to her, reading over her shoulder. The man spoke with an eastern accent, and absentmindedly stroked his weak goatee. I heard they’ve been shutting them all down. Emperor wants the new Mechagladiators to replace ‘em.

Not a chance. Nothing can replace two gladiators in the arena, battling it out, the crowd baying for blood.

The cobbler laughed.

The Coliseum is half empty, even on the weekends now. I’ve heard they don’t kill anyone anymore. What’s the point of a ‘fight to the death’ if no one dies? A customer entered behind him and he turned.

I guess that is what happens when you cannot use slaves for your fights anymore. No freeman wants to die for some coin. All those men join the army. At least you earn real glory that way.

Lucia frowned, but she ignored the man. He’s just bitter because he isn’t a gladiator. She thought, folding up the piece of paper. Lucia took comfort from its message, and prepared herself.

Let’s go.

She jumped back into the sea of humanity, following the flow of people up to the streets. Asking around, she finally found the right trolley line that would take her past the coliseum. She was certain she could find her way to the ludus. I just need to find the coliseum first. Lucia whispered. For the first time in her life, she felt in control, in charge, of her future. I’m ready for this. I practiced with Phillip. I read all those books. I know what it means to be a gladiator.

The squealing of trolley wheels pulled her out of her reverie. She deposited the handful of copper coins into the till and the operator handed her a small ticket. Baths Line, leaving. He called.

Lucia pushed her way past several other commuters and slid into a window seat. She craned her head as the trolley began to move. The city seemed to expand upwards around her as they traveled away from the Station. Marble and steel structures, some reaching seven, even eight stories high, stood brick to brick with ancient temples. Lucia was glad to see that they were packed with people as well. It brought her comfort to know that, even here in Rome, people still believed in higher powers.

Rome seemed to be a city where people were always moving, always busy. Very different from Neapolis. Everyone there is always taking a break, even in the heart of the business day.

I’m glad I left. Her face darkened slightly, as she pushed aside the feelings of loss and regret. Gods know I’m doing the right thing. I’m doing the only thing I can do. What I want to do. I refuse to be part of their so-called business. Roughing up traders and stealing from slumlords is not much of a business. Neither is smuggling.

The drab view of utilitarian industrial complexes surrounded by concrete walls covered with plastered signs and advertisements soon replaced the gleaming marble temples and government buildings. Grey soot and smoke covered the streets in a light fog.

Next stop, Coliseum Maxima!

Excuse me.

She slipped through the crowd, her single bag jostling other patrons. Finally, freedom, as she stepped out the rear entrance. Lucia had to step quickly up onto the curb. Several horse drawn wagons followed closely behind the trolley, their drivers looking for a quick opportunity to pass the vehicle.

The friendly ting-ting from the trolley’s bell gradually faded into the distance.

She walked around the great coliseum, following the curve of the street. There were only so many buildings right next to the arena, and surely one of them would be the Ludus Magnus. Many of the buildings had crumbling brick and stone facades, some looking a hundred years old or more. She walked past them, the sidewalks pretty empty in this section of the city. A steam-powered trash hauler clomped past. Four burley men accompanied it down the street. They hefted and dumped large refuse containers from the factories into the machine’s boxy rear. A mechanical screech followed by the slow hum of the trash compactor greeted her ears. She hurried past it, arriving at a set of weathered wooden doors. They were easily twice her height, festooned with layers of advertisements for gladiator events.

Battle of the Century! Silent Sicaro versus the crazed Capuan!

The Delia Twins delight in a race to kill the most enemies possible!

Weekend Special - Four battles for the price of two!

See the reenactment of the century - Caesar crossing the Rubicon! One showing only!

Lucia felt her heart skip a beat. Here it must be. Her head craned upwards. She spied the corroded copper letters arching over the doorway. Ludus Magnus - Trainers of Heroes She read. The Great School of Gladiators.

Certainly didn’t look like a place that claimed to be the ‘trainers of heroes’. The wall ran for an entire block, covered in advertisements, but otherwise, it seemed drab and antique compared to the factories and businesses on the other side of the street. The cobblestones here were worn down, and ivy grew through cracks in the sidewalk. She sniffed, and the old, lingering smell of mold and dampness reached her nose.

I want this. She reminded herself as her hand pushed open the door. It swung easily, no screech of metal on metal, and revealed an expansive courtyard. Bigger than my family’s compound, that’s for certain. It must be the size of a city block, she decided as she analyzed the courtyard. To the back right, a large, four-story apartment building loomed, large windows dark like bad teeth on a grin. Opposite, another large building loomed, with a columned portico and several attached sheds, perhaps only two stories tall with a distinctive terracotta roof. Smoke rose lazily from several chimneys.

Not what I was expecting. Lucia said, barely able to disguise her disappointment.

It never is. But it is home. An older man said. He perched on a stone platform. The height let him peek over the compound’s wall. Seems like someone was expecting me.

It definitely looked better years ago. Fresh paint and such, but budget cuts are a thing to contend with. He gestured to her. And you are?

Lucia Rhodanus Fortem. From Neapolis.

Well, Lucia from Neapolis, you are nearly late. If you wish to become a gladiator, a hero of the people, to have your name on everyone’s lips, then you have come to the right place. He eyed her up and down, a critical eye examining her. Lucia knew what he would see. A young woman of dark olive complexion, darker even than the sun-kissed Sicilians, but without the amber hue of Syria or the Medes. She was tall for a woman, or so her mother had told her. The crown of her head still would not have reached the older man’s nose. Her hair was wound tightly to her head, a curly fuzz that drove Lucia mad at times. After the quick examination, the older man smiled. You look like you have spirit. All are welcome in the ludus, regardless of background, origin, or gender.

I know. That’s why I came. I will become a famous gladiator. She said, voice calm. How her voice wasn’t shaking, she didn’t know. Lucia continued. I’m already ready for the arena.

Are you now? the older man chuckled. His mouth twisted involuntarily into a frown, cutting through his weathered, tan face like a knife wound. Perhaps you’d be willing to demonstrate some skills with me to the others?

Perhaps. She said, feeling self-assured. Phillip has trained me well. The wily old fox would be pleased to see me so confident. She looked at the rest of the people assembled to the side. The scraggly young men and women looked pitiful compared to the former legionnaires, burly workers, and barbarian adventurers of her stories. I guess everyone has to start somewhere.

At his gesture, she joined the back row of candidates. They were seemingly spaced apart, so she followed suit, leaving a gap of about five feet from her to the next person.

Why are you here? the old man asked.

There was a slight shuffling among the two dozen or so novices, their heads turning left and right as their eyes darted about. He stared at each one for a moment, seeking to lock eyes even as they sought to avoid it. Lucia kept her hazel eyes fixed on him, and when they met, his mouth twitched in a smile. His emerald eyes hardened.

She didn’t cower when he spoke. What about you? She shrugged, tilting her head to one side.

Money she said quietly, putting as much force into her voice as possible. I am a good candidate. I have skills and passion. I pay attention and learn.