Voice in the Wind: The Very Angry Gladiator

Voice in the Wind, pp. 186-200

Atretes is to fight in the arena this week. Rivers says Atretes and those others who were scheduled to fight “were brought into an anteroom, where they were to wait until a contingent of guards would arrive to take them to the quarters beneath the arena.” Rivers has read enough to know that the Colosseum has not yet been built, and hints at Marcus wanting that contract, but she does not appear to know that before this structure was built, the games were (according to historian Mary Beard) held in temporary wooden arenas or in the Forum itself. There would almost certainly not have been “a maze of chambers beneath the amphitheater and arena” before the Colosseum.

Before he can fight, Atretes is taken to a feast, which we are told “is always held before the games.” In her book on the Colosseum, Beard writes that this typical modern claim—a regular pre-games feast showing off the gladiators scheduled to fight—is based on only shaky evidence. Still, here we are. The feast turns out to be pretty uneventful. The Emperor Vespasian is there, and Domitian, and Titus. Atretes stares at them with hatred. Marcus is also there, and Antigonus, and Arria. The whole thing is from Atretes’ perspective, so we only know these others are present from the names used in the snippets of conversation Atretes overhears. Atretes spends lots of time glowering about overly bold Roman women, and the men he swears to kill if they touch him.

I’m surprised Atretes is allowed at the feast at all, and unchained, given that he nicked that Roman Senator’s son and has made clear his desire to do that and more to other members of the Roman nobility. Rivers said several guards stood very close to Atretes, watching, ready to intervene if necessary, but Atretes is also allowed to get close enough to Arria and her girlfriends to overhear their conversation (mooning over gladiators), which strikes me as far too close for comfort—a quick lunge could do one of those young noblewomen in without a guard having time to react.

We do meet a Jew named Caleb, another gladiator preparing for his fight. He has twenty-two kills to his name, and Atretes is impressed by his concentration and physic, and worried about his chances if pitted against him. Caleb says he hopes they don’t fight each other the next day, as he would hate to kill someone who so shared his hatred of Rome. But Atretes overhears that he’s going to be pitted against the Parthian, so all is good.

The morning he is to fight, Atretes is paraded around the Circus Maximus, on a chariot, before the crowds.

The mob was awash in red, white, green, and blue as spectators wore the colors of the factions, denoting which chariot team they backed. … The editor, as the organizer and master of ceremonies for the games was called, came back before the emperor’s tribunal.

Wait, what? No really, they’re starting with a chariot race, and then gladiatorial combat, and they’re doing all of this in the Circus Maximus, the chariot racing arena. While Beard had stated that gladiatorial games were typically held in temporary wooden structures or the Forum before the Colosseum was constructed, this website suggests that games were sometimes also held in the Circus Maximus. (I can’t find anything about tunnels under the Circus Maximus, though maybe I haven’t looked hard enough.)

Before the fight, Caleb speaks with Atretes:

“Look around you at the mob, young Atretes. These conquerers of the world are slaves to their passions, and someday their passions will bring them down.”

If that is meant to be a prophesy, it doesn’t work. Rome became Christian long before it fell.

Atretes isn’t matched against a Parthian after all. Instead he’s matched against a Gaul. Atretes kills the Gual easily, and begins loudly mocking the emperor, and Rome. A Roman officer jumps into the arena and calls for armor, then steps forward to fight Atretes. Atretes kills him, too. Vespasian sends another gladiator into the arena, this one a retiarius. Aerates kills him. Then Vespasian sends the well-known and experienced Celerus, whom Octavia spoke of so frequently. Lucky for Atretes, the crowd waves flags signaling favor to Atretes, so Vespasian calls Celerus back, postponing the fight.

Even though Atretes is wounded, Bato ultimately has to send in four guards with whips to take him out of the arena. Atretes, you see, was hoping to die. He wanted to fight Celerus, weakened as he was, and thus end his torment. Atretes doesn’t want Bato’s surgeon to patch him up, either. He wants to bleed out and die. Bato gives him a pep talk about how the best way to get back at Rome is success in the arena, and Atretes listens.

According to Mary Beard, one gladiator died on average for every three matches—in other words, the majority of matches ended with both gladiators still alive. This was fortunate, because obtaining and training gladiators was expensive, and each one represented an investment. Instead, we see Atretes kill two gladiators and a Roman officer who voluntarily jumps down to fight him. Nothing about this introduction to the games strikes me as realistic.

In retrospect, I really should have included this whole section in with last week’s, as it’s far less interesting that I had anticipated it being. Suffice it to say that Rome is a pit of sensuous hedonism and Atretes hates it all. From now on—after Bato’s pep talk—he will see killing as many as he can in the arena as the best way to get back at Rome (oh, and taking their women and their fawning praise—that too).

I’m terribly sorry this section was so boring, but I promise next week will be more interesting. I am stopping here rather than going on with the next section because we’re about to move back to Julia and Hadassah—and there are big changes afoot.