Page 25 of Dominion
CHAPTER NINE
An hour later, they were back at the ludus. Cervantes climbed out of the carriage first, then Mateo, who moved a bit slower. He followed Cervantes to where the medicus, Tomas, tended to patients, and motioned for a guard to fetch the physician. While they waited, he watched over Mateo, who was now leaning slightly on the gurney.
The medicus entered. “Is he badly torn?” he asked, walking over toward Mateo.
“There are tears and he is swollen. The god, Eloy, used him properly,” Cervantes stated.
“Lean over, boy,” the medicus said.
Mateo did as he was told, leaning over even more while the medicus inspected his asshole.
“Ahh, very swollen indeed,” the medicus said.
“He’s taken two cocks tonight, and will take more,” Cervantes stated.
“Aye, but tonight he should rest, and the next day. Remember, you want him strong and ready to train. His wounds still require healing and now this,” the medicus pointed to Mateo’s ass.
Cervantes huffed. “He’s young, strong, he will begin his training tomorrow—light,” he added once he saw the disapproving frown on the medicus’ face. “Light training. Dominus’ orders.”
Tomas sighed. “Very well. Still tonight, he rests.”
“Give him the salve and release him into my care,” Cervantes commanded.
Mateo really didn’t know if Cervantes outranked Tomas or if they were on equal standing. Both slaves, but with prestigious positions of power among the rest. He’d only been there three weeks and still, he had so many questions.
“I’ll clean him first, then salve him,” the medicus said.
“Make haste,” Cervantes snapped.
Mateo kept quiet as the medicus flushed his insides out of the cum and blood. The solution stung, but also offered some measure of reprieve from the pain. The salve that was added after really gave him comfort and the cooling sensation gave him the relief he’d been dying for. Now that that was done, he walked back to his cell with Cervantes, who locked him back inside.
“Tomorrow, we begin your training. Also, this is your last night in this cell. Take that as you will,” Cervantes said, then walked away.
Mateo slunk down to the floor, his body aching, his feelings hurting and spirit nearly broken. But he still had hope that one day, he would be free.
Something hard nudged Mateo in his side repeatedly, which yanked him out of his blissful sleep. He opened his eyes and looked up to see Kodac looking down at him.
“Rise, we train,” the big, black gladiator-guard said.
As much as Mateo wanted to just close his eyes and return to the dreamland he’d been in, he knew he didn’t have a choice. He rose to his feet, wincing a little from the pain in his ass and side from his still-healing wounds. He followed behind Kodac as he led him out into the courtyard where the other gladiators were already assembled and preparing to practice.
Kodac led him over to a table which had several articles of training gear on it. He picked up a rawhide vest and began placing it on Mateo’s torso. He tied the sides together, securing the vest.
“Hold out hands,” Kodac said.
Mateo obeyed, holding up both of his hands while Kodac began wrapping his palms and wrists in strips of leather, binding them. Next, he picked up a wooden kitana and awakizashi,handing them both to Mateo.
“You will train in the style of Sakata, a fine gladiator. The first to use this style. Go to Cervantes,” Kodac ordered.
Mateo examined the two swords he held in his hands, they each had their own heft to them; the kitana felt like it was at least two pounds and the wakizashi felt like it was over a pound. He’d never seen two swords that looked like them, but he liked their design. Following the order given, he made his way towards Cervantes, but he also checked out the other gladiators as they began to train.
Boris was working with a long sword that looked to be as tall as he was. Shian, the would-be pretty gladiator, had not half his face been scarred and he still had both eyes, was working with another weapon new to Mateo. But if he had to put a name to it, it looked like a whip sword, and the other gladiators steered clear of the more petite one as he worked the whip-like blades with intricate precision.
“Our dominus has the best gladiators, you will be no exception,” Cervantes said. His voice bringing Mateo’s attention to him.
“Yes, doctore, I do want to fight good,” Mateo said.
“Not good, best,” Cervantes corrected. He then began to instruct him on how he should hold his swords. He also informed him that he could wear them sheathed at his side and use one sword or both during a fight and that he’d be trained in both styles, as was the style of Sakata.
