Read Wolf’s Empire: Gladiator for Free Online

hostility. The audience just didn’t understand why I wouldn’t go through with it, even though that’s what they demanded. They were used to getting what they wanted. That should have been the end of my arena career, except word went around that I was a worshipper of Minerva and that I had shown the mercy of the goddess to my fallen opponents. I was not incapable of killing, but I chose not to, even though it broke with tradition and risked my advancement. I’d decided that I would save death for those that deserved it—the men responsible for the murder of my mother and brother—and to do that I had to work my way into the toughest league, the most challenging arena—the Ludi Romani, the emperor’s great games. In the strange way popular opinion works, instead of ending my career, my display of mercy made me an overnight hit. After that Marcus didn’t mind so much.
    â€œYou’ve found your own style and it works. You took a big risk and it paid off so I can’t complain, at least for now. But watch out. There might come a time when you have to strike true and end a life. When that time comes, don’t hesitate.”
    From my third match on, I loudly dedicated each victory to the memory of my murdered mother and brother, which fired up the Viridians in the audience and once even caused a riot. When my father objected a second time, this time to my riling up the mob, I argued that it was ludicrous that Romans could go to war and murder each other, send dozens of imperial worlds into starvation and poverty, but we were not allowed to be rude about it, or at least a woman wasn’t. But father-daughter arguments seldom verge on the rational, and he seemed angry enough that he might really remove me from the arena, so I complied. It was a small sacrifice. After that, I simply raised my discus when I won a match, remaining silent. I instructed Bulla to sell my golden victory laurels and donate the money to wounded soldiers. This earned me a following, especially among the more influential women in my house, who argued that I boosted troop morale, and made it difficult for Father to remove me from the arena.
    Marcus was at the other end of the hall, a sea of competitors between us. I waved my arm high in the air, and by some small miracle, he saw me. The crowd parted as he headed my way. A legion veteran and an ex-gladiator, Marcus owned a stake in the gym and was one of the most respected trainers in Rome.
    â€œYou’re late,” he said grimly.
    â€œFather jammed my armilla. I came as soon as I could.”
    â€œNot soon enough. Darius has your place.”
    Darius was a sagittarius-style gladiator, a bow and arrow expert.
    â€œI’m twice the long-range fighter Darius is. He can barely see a target at fifty yards, let alone hit it.”
    Marcus shrugged. “It is what it is. The tournament teams are complete bar four remaining vacancies.”
    â€œI count two. One on the Calpurnian team, one on the Flavian team.”
    â€œThere are two Sertorian slots as well,” he said. “One of those will be taken by Servius Tullius Lurco. He set a new record in the bestiarii matches by single-handedly killing ten Sauromatae.”
    His arena name was Lurco Giganticus and he was well known. Nine feet tall and all muscle, he wore a helmet with a death’s-head faceplate. I’d seen him killing poison-spitting Equidae in the Ludus Silvaticus, one hoofed beast dead for every swing of his hammer. Lurco belonged to House Tullian, Sertorian allies. So the morning report I read was accurate, the Sertorians were drawing players from houses allied to them.
    â€œThat leaves one vacancy on the Talonite Axis,” Marcus said. “You want to fight for the bad guys?”
    â€œDon’t even joke about it.” Marcus had a dry sense of humor, and I wasn’t in the mood for it. “Tell me how to fix this.”
    â€œI’ve already complained to the