Gods And Heroes: Gods & Heroes: Rome Rising - Chapter 2: Deodatus

Deo smirked to himself, thinking about how he managed to end up here. The best part about killing that grotesque abomination was the silence of the crowd and the opportunity it had provided. How about the look on the faces of those two Centurions right before his blade relieved them of the burden of having a head? Classic. Deo chuckled at their good fortune as he half-ran and half-pulled Atticus down into the winding sewers. The best part, however, had to be Gaius' look of arrogance, thinking he was safe behind the locked entrance gate. With the crowd still sitting in a stunned silence, Deodatus and Atticus stood facing their last obstacle--the locked gate leading out of that contemptible arena.

"Ye ne're gettin' out o' tha coliseum alive, rogue! Ye 'n the Legatos can rot fer all I care!" Gaius had spat, grinning with that broken-toothed, filthy smile. By Mercury's sandals, how he hated that arrogance. The look of sheer and utter contempt, of arrogance and pride, the face of pure vitriol, and it was all aimed at Deodatus.

"Yer finally guna die, n' I'ma gonna laugh an drink ta Bacchus ta'nite!" crowed the slovenly jailer. Gaius began to laugh his fat, belly-shaking laugh. Deo could feel the foulness of his breath as Gaius reveled in his perceived position of power. Deodatus let him enjoy it for a moment longer before he let the previously locked gate swing open; the shrill scream of the steel against steel cutting Gaius' laughter off like an execution.

Gaius stumbled backwards.

"Wut in Pluto's 'ell?" half-screamed Gaius in a choking terror, landing abruptly on his duff, arms flailing like a panic-stricken turtle. Deo stood above him menacingly and held up his hand. The rust-covered key swung back and forth hypnotically.

"You could say I picked this up from an old friend of mine during a quaint little chat we had earlier today. He was offering to help me loose a few pounds by taking my head off," He grinned as he dropped the key in the dirt.

Gaius turned over and scrambled to his feet, his stubby legs churning with a new found fear. Deodauts reached out with his free hand and grabbed a handful of Gaius' thick greasy hair, yanking him back on his bottom.

"Aw, don't go," cooed Deodatus as he drew his sword with his chained hand, "I thought you'd want to talk about how to improve prison moral! I was thinking we could start with sleeping accommodations and food service."

Gaius screamed as Deo raised the sword. The smell of fresh urine began to fill the surrounding air as Deodatus' arm jerked down. Gaius was still screaming as Atticus pulled Deodatus' chained hand back.

"No." Atticus had said, "Bind him or knock him out, but do not kill him. The gods won't forgive us this one."

Deodatus grinned as he recalled the moment; he wasn't going to kill him anyway. He hated killing. Besides, it certainly made the sewers much more tolerable knowing that Gaius was locked in his own cell with freshly soiled pants.

"How much farther, Deo?" Atticus coughed.

Deodatus wasn't sure how far they had run in these tunnels, but he knew they weren't far from the iron grate that opened just near the docks.

"It's just up the way here, stubs. Can you hang on, or am I going to have to carry you?" Teased Deo.

Atticus grinned, "It will be a cold day in Hades the before you will ever have to carry me."

Deodatus' laughter echoed off into the darkness as the two of them pushed forward. He knew Atticus wasn't seriously wounded, but fighting their way through these sewers certainly wasn't going to be the most beneficial to his health. In fact, Deodatus was no longer running because of his pursuers (he was confident he had lost them hours ago), but it had now become a matter of getting Atticus a safe area so he could clean and bind the wound.

Deodatus' thoughts faded when they turned the corner.

"There, that's where we're headed," pointed Deodatus. The outline of the grate was almost lost in the brilliance of the light.

"I can only guess how you happen to know these sewers so well," said Atticus.

"The gods told me where to go."

Atticus laughed, "And they dropped that key in your pocket as well, no doubt?"

"Hey, I already told you, I got it from a friend," Deodatus smirked in the darkness.

The grating gave way easily enough under the strength of the two and it wasn't long before Deodatus was able to get oriented with where they were.

"We're about a stone's throw from the docks and we're standing in a small freshwater stream that runs into the sewers. You should probably take a moment and clean your wound out," Deo said.

It was a perfect opportunity; the grate opened up out of a rock wall and was surrounded by ample trees and shrubs. Enough cover and far enough off the major streets that even if some kids came running around--which was more likely than not--the pair of unlikely friends would not be bothered.

"I'm fine, we should keep moving, act naturally, and find a way to get these chains off," grumped Atticus.

Deo looked at him, "Yes, brilliant plan. You know, I think we can pull it off, the whole 'acting natural' thing. I mean, really, who's going to notice a brawny, bloody guy like you chained to a shifty looking fellow like me limping down the street smelling like an unwashed Gaul? Did I mention the chain? I'm pretty sure I did."

Atticus just growled, but none the less, he leaned over in the fresh water and began to clean himself. Deodatus watched as Atticus grimaced, never uttering a sound. Typical soldier, Deo thought to himself, always trying to ignore their bodies. Always pushing it like a fool.

Deodatus sighed.

He might be a fool, he thought, but he's saved my life and gave us the chance to escape. Moreover, he spared Gaius' life and in turn spared me from regretting something I might have never forgiven myself for.

"What's the matter shifty," grunted Atticus as he stood up, "worried I'm not going to be around to save you from trouble?"

"Ha!" laughed Deodatus, "Hardly! I was just thinking how much of a hassle it was going to be to carry your fat, smelly body around if you die on me, stumps."

"I'll be sure not to die on you then, I doubt you could carry me farther than a foot or two. Let's get moving and find away to get these chains off," said Atticus.

"We can pull the locking pin if we can get so a smith shop, or even a stable. They'll have the tools we need," mused Deodatus.

"There's an official unit stable just up the way here. We could probably make it there without attracting too much attention," Atticus replied.

"How about we just go into the Gaul camp and ask them to help out instead? I feel safer with the barbarians than I do the Romans," huffed Deodatus.

Atticus just looked at him.

"Alright, fine!" said Deodatus half-exasperated, "We'll do the stables. At least I know if I die you're going with me."

"I doubt we're going to the same place, shifty," grinned Atticus as he started to lead the way.

Deodatus simply grinned to himself as he fell in beside Atticus, the choice being left to the chain that bound them. It wasn't going to be easy, and Deodatus knew it as they made their way out of the stream and through the brush.

Thanks to the relative seclusion of the sewer entrance and the sparsely populated area, people were either still at the arena or they were down at the docks, the two were able to slip off the major streets and down the closest alley. Confident there was no one watching, Atticus set the pace at a slight jog.

"At the end of this alley, we'll have to cross a busy square. From there we can get to the stables all by alley ways and side streets, hopefully it will only be the poor and the sick in those alleys. Let's just pray to Minerva that the guards don't decide to do clean-up today," said Atticus.

Deodatus hated "clean-up." What they should call it is "pay-up," as that's all the guards were after. Technically they were supposed to keep the streets and alleys free of the riff-raff, but in reality it was give up every thing you had to stay out of the cells. It was no secret that if you went to the cells, you never came back, unless you were wealthy or anyone other than lower class. Deo had made it a point to make sure innocent people were never taken to the cells, sometimes it meant dispatching a corrupt guard, other times it simply meant paying from his own pocket. Still, it was loathsome to him and he hoped against hope that Mercury was up there listening.

Deo's refocused his attention to his surroundings as they approached the edge of the alleyway.

"Alright," Atticus started, "if we make a straight shot across, we're going to get noticed, however, if we work our way around, and I keep you to my left, we might be able to hide the chain."

"Hide it with your gut, you mean?"

Atticus sighed, "Can you please be serious here? It's bad enough we don't have any swords, your wit isn't helping. Now, you stay to my left and we'll walk around the square, stay engaged in conversation and do not make eye-contact with anyone."

This part of Atticus always unnerved him; whenever a situation arose he shifted into Legatus mode and when he did that, you didn't mess around. So Deo just nodded and they began walking and talking about nothing important. It was almost midday and people were starting to let out of the coliseum. His eyes darted across the square, not resting too long on any one individual, and yet taking all the information in. Two guards leaning against the fruit stand eating something fresh, chatting with the shifty proprietor, oblivious to everything else. A group of students and their philosopher gathered around several statues of the gods in the center of the square, and people milled about, some aimlessly, others in a hurry. Two more guards at the opposite end of the square stood at rapt attention at the street leading to the docks. They were surveying the entire scene and watching for any trouble; their primary purpose to assist the trade sector of Rome. Kids ran laughing and shouting through the square, ducking in and out of houses, alleys, and any number of openings through the area.

Deodatus and Atticus had made their way around the square and were now only a few feet from the side street entrance. In the back of his mind, he kept waiting for the two guards to yell something and come running in their direction, but it never happened, and after a moment they were safely jogging down the side street with no one the wiser. The further down the alley they ran, the more populated it became. The homeless, the poor, and the sick lay about, or walked around amiably. Several people recognized him and shouted greetings here and there. He felt safe here, knowing that there wasn't a person here who'd rat him out if the time came.

"It's up ahead," said Atticus as they broke into a heavier jog, the chain jingling between them.

"Good, I don't know if I've mentioned it before, but I really hate this cha--"

Deodatus' words broke off as they rounded the corner and fully connected with the nearest Roman Centurion, sending the three rolling down the alley in a discombobulated tangle.

The shouts were seemed to blend together in an inaudible blur to Deo at first. Slowly they came into focus as did the unconscious centurion beneath him and the dread of realization of what was really happening.

Deodatus quickly looked over at Atticus who was beginning to come to the same realization.

"Clean-up day!" yelled Deodatus as he jumped back, pulling Atticus with him.

Two guards were rapidly approaching them, swords drawn, shouting for them to stop where they were. Suddenly the guard closest to them stopped, his face slowly displaying the sudden comprehension of what he was faced with.

"Minerva be good," whispered Atticus just as the guard began to shout.

"It's the criminals!"

Deo looked at Atticus, "Run?" he half-questioned.

"Fight," growled Atticus as he picked up the unconscious soldier's sword and began charging the stunned guard.

An almost childish cry for help managed to escape the soldier's lips before Atticus, complete with Deodatus in tow, slammed into the unprepared guard. The soldier's face went ashen white as his sword clattered to the ground and blood rushed from the wound Atticus' sword had created. Deodatus snapped up the fallen sword and pushed the image out of his mind. He could never get used to killing people. He did it when it was necessary, but in the end it never made it any easier. Focus. Deodatus looked up to address the remaining guard, only to see that he had now reversed his forward rush and began to run for assistance.

Atticus moved to pursue him. The chain held him fast. Atticus spun around to face Deodatus in a rage.

"What in Pluto's hell are you doing? He's getting away!"

Deodatus stood fast, "He's getting more help. We have to run; we're too close to the barracks."

"We can take him!"

"No!" yelled Deodatus, "Not before he gets within yelling distance, we have to go! NOW!"

Deodatus turned to run.

"Where are we going to go? We're still chained together!" resisted Atticus.

"The docks! I know a ship, quickly!"

Atticus looked back at the distancing soldier, hesitated a moment, and then broke into a full run with Deodatus along side. Shouts began to ring out behind them as the two rounded the corner in a full sprint. The nice thing about letting Atticus lead the sprint became apparent to Deodatus rather quickly as the unfortunate individuals who were unable clear a path were soon cleared non-voluntarily. Poor and rich alike went sprawling as the two exploded into the square. The two guards that were leaning against the fruit stand looked up at the sudden commotion.

"That way!" yelled Deodatus, pointing at the two guards who were standing at attention earlier, "Through there is the dock!"

The guards at the gateway drew their swords at the obvious clamor as Atticus began to run faster. Soldiers were beginning to pour out of the alley behind them and the square had broken out into a panic. The students began to flee, robes streaming behind them, and people were running and screaming in every direction. The fruit guards had fallen in behind the two of them and were shouting for them to stop.

Deodatus watched in horror as Atticus led them towards the two waiting guards whose shields were now in front of them and their swords drawn and waiting. He briefly noticed that blood was now seeping out of Atticus' wound; however his attention was diverted by the crossbow bolt that sang past his head.

"Malum!" cursed Deodatus.

"Keep your head down!" shouted Atticus.

Deodatus watched as the world slowed down around him in an almost surreal blur. Slowly he looked over at the two soldiers in front of him, both shifting slowly from side-to-side, swords gleaming in the sun. And then, as if by the power of the gods, or maybe the intensity of the situation, there was a complete moment of stillness, one single moment of perfect peace, the calm before the storm. Deodatus took that moment to take in the entire scene, the insanity. Then, as quickly as it has started, the stillness was shattered as Atticus jerked Deo to a hard right. Time accelerated and the sounds rushed into his ears as they forced a hard flank on the closest guard, Atticus' sword singing in the mid-day conflict.

A brief look of surprise crossed the right-most soldier's face as he managed to get his shield in between himself and Atticus' ferocious strike. The shield rippled under the impact as the soldier raised his sword to begin his attack. Without thinking and with a mongoose's speed, Deodatus' blade found its mark beneath the soldier's upraised arm, piercing between the exposed plates of armor. Surprise melted into a twisted mix of horror and pain as Atticus shoved the mortally wounded soldier back into his comrade. Before his brain could process the entire situation, they were back at a full run, the docks in sight and Deo's savior ship moored and waiting.

"That one!" yelled Deodatus, pointing at the small transport vessel.

People scattered as the two ran, those who didn't were thrown haphazardly or knocked aside in their final break for freedom. Crossbow bolts were now striking indiscriminately to each side as screams mixed with shouts and panic.

"Guess they don't want to let us go, eh?" yelled Deodatus.

"Guess not," shouted Atticus.

They were almost there.

50 feet.

30, bolts were striking the ground, exploding through baskets, people, and produce.

20, almost there.

10, Deo's legs were on fire from the run and he felt as if Vulcan himself had just taken up residence in the spot known formerly as his lungs.

5 feet.

Atticus and Deodatus jumped, crashing through boxes, barrels and people. Goods and people flew overboard as Deodatus sprang to his feet, his sword flashing back and forth as he cut the mooring lines. The swift current of the river did the rest. Bolts slammed into the deck and across the side of the ship. The shouts and curses of soldiers washed over the ship as Deo collapsed next to a bleeding Atticus. The remaining crew was shouting, grain and various unknown liquids mixed across the deck of the small vessel as Deodatus leaned out over the edge of the boat to watch the fading group of gathering soldiers at the dock's edge.

"Ostia or Hades," he said to no one in particular.

"Ostia or Hades," Atticus replied.

Deodatus turned around to look at Atticus, but he had already passed out, probably from the pain.

"Ostia or Hades," he whispered as the group of angry sailors gathered around them.