Gaius couldn’t lift his right arm as it dangled down to his side; his fingers just barely gripping the hilt of his sword as he back stepped, trying to put some distance between, he and Calfax, who advanced slowly on him.

When Calfax attacked again, seeing that Gaius was all but done for, his sword found flesh two more time, and on the third attack, even as Gaius’ blood continued to flow out from his numerous wounds, Calfax slammed the butt-end of his sword up against the back of his skull.

Gaius slumped forward, falling to his knees, but still strong enough that he didn’t drop completely to the ground.

Calfax circled him, as he did not get up — did not seem capable of getting up as he bled and breathed heavily — his eyes staring up at the superior warrior as Calfax stopped before him and looked down at the young Roman, who had challenged him.

“You, young one, represent everything that I hate about your people — what you have done to me. You may win this war, but you will not stop me from fulfilling my destiny. I will at no time stop until I see your city and its people burnt from this earth and blown to the wind, never to be remembered.”

The image of Julia flashed across his mind as Calfax said his last words. He swore long ago to protect her from the monsters of the world. And while that promise had been made by a boy who dreamt of myths and legends, Gaius had found that monster, and he was very real.

He failed to live up to his promise.

Unable to move or raise his weapon to defend himself, Gaius was going to give in. He sat where he had falling, on both his knees before Calfax, but somehow, Gaius found what little strength he had left, and spoke.

“I pity you, gladiator. I’m sorry for what we did to you.” His words were barely audible, but Calfax seemed to understand them good enough as his expression changed suddenly to confusion, and then pure rage.

“I am sorry for everything we did to you.”

Calfax stared at Gaius with a dumbfounded expression on his face, as his mouth closed and his eyes seemed to widen.

For a moment, Gaius saw the old man for who he was, what had happened to him, and what he had been forced to endure. He seemed ancient; a warrior from another era when men lived with honor and dignity.

He could see through Calfax and knew that he had once been a man very much like himself — a man who had loved someone as much as he loved Julia. However, that man was gone now. He had died the day his wife and children were taken away from him. He was something else now; a product of Rome’s own dark soul.

“And I forgive you,” Gaius finished.

Then, that small moment had passed. Calfax’s anger boiled over as he leered down at Gaius and cried out with a bellowing voice, “I do not want your pity, Roman! I just want you to die!”

Gaius closed his eyes as Calfax raised his sword up over his head and readied to plunge it down into his chest. In his mind, he saw his beloved, smelt her, felt her and held onto that image, as long as he could before he drew upon what little strength he had left. And then, as he opened his eyes once more, just for a moment, through the thickening of the dust fill smog, he saw the white wolf, standing, poised, looking at him for just a moment before it was gone in the rising heat.

Before Calfax’s final blow could come, Gaius suddenly rose to his feet, his right arm, which had dangled uselessly down by his side, shot forth and plunged the tip of his sword into Calfax’s chest.

Calfax’s eyes opened wide as he looked down at the ivory handle of Gaius’ sword sticking out of his chest, shocked and amazed by the sudden realization that Gaius had faked his apparent weakness, but had kept just enough strength in reserve and bought his time, knowing that he was desperately overpowered and outclassed by the seasoned gladiator.

And then, Calfax’s grip on his sword faltered as he looked up and stared into Gaius’ eyes, as he pushed his sword even deeper.

Gaius reached with his freed hand and grabbed the clay medallion that hung around Calfax’s neck, and with on good tug, he ripped it off from the gladiator’s neck.

“This does not belong to you,” Gaius said as he broke the leather strand that kept the medallion in position.

And then, with one forcefully tug, Gaius withdrew his sword.

The old gladiator’s eyes rolled back into his head as he slumped down onto his knees, still staring up at the young Roman, who had bested him, gazing with puzzlement, and then, fell face-first into the dusty sand that lay beneath his feet.

Gaius dropped to his knees, no longer able to stand as his wounds had finally gotten the better of him.

He looked around as he heard the sound of a distant horn blowing, and for a moment, he thought that it might have been a Punic rallying cry. However, then he heard it again and realized it was coming from his men — his Wolves had broken the Carthaginian lines and were now pouring through their ranks as those that still lived, turned and ran.

He would not see the end, but he knew what its outcome would be. Rome had won, and his men had succeeded as the backbone of Hannibal’s army had been broken, seemly at the same time that Calfax’s own heart stopped beating.

Gaius closed his eyes and allowed his world to slip away as his men all raced pasted him, onward towards Hannibal’s rear, which was already engaged with the main Roman front, but would not break as Rome had at Cannae.

Soon, the sounds of the battlefield left him. The world around him became quiet as he returned to a better place, a home he had not seen for many years now — a distant house, alone in the hills surrounding by lush green fields — a place he remembered from his childhood.

When his feet touched the road that led to the far-off estate, he saw her, Julia.

Oh, how he marveled her at beauty — how he craved the touch of her lips and longed to hear the soothing sounds of her voice. He had longed for her his entire life, an impossible dream that had come true. She was his soul, his reason for living each new day, and for her, he would always protect her from the monsters of the world, even at the cost of his own life.

Unlike in his dreams each night, this time, however, Gaius did not wake up. He did not hesitate to keep walking forward until she was in his loving embrace once again.

His war was over. Now his life could begin — a perfect dream made real. For her he would live and endure.