Caesar Titus turned to the King of the Gods to find him in shock. Mouth and eyes wide open, the pegasus looked like as if he just witnessed to something unspeakable. “Are you alright?” he asked but the god didn’t reply. “King Jupiter?”
Lightning Bolt quickly shook his head. “Wha? Huh?”
“Is something wrong? You looked horrified for a second.”
“I looked horrif…” the Solar Guard trailed off in disbelief. “I looked horrified? How come you’re not?”
“Over what,” Senator Cato questioned. “The race?”
“Of course it was about the race!” Bolt exclaimed. “Did you not see what just happened back there?”
“Yes,” the Emperor nodded, “it was quite good, too. Although, the one that threw his helmet was risky but brilliant.”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” the pegasus got up from his seat. “Those racers and those ponies--”
“Horses,” both of the men corrected him.
“Whatever! The point is that any one of them could have been killed. Where I come from, if such a race like this were to happen where they would come out of it bloodied and bruised, it would have been shut down before you could say ‘go!’”
“But can you argue against the entertainment that the people had?” Titus gestured over to the crowd. “Besides, those racers are mostly made up of criminals or those that rebelled against the Empire. Some of their crimes are worthy of death, yet we give them a chance to earn back their freedom.”
“By earning their freedom you mean to have them risk their necks in a race that could easily kill them?”
“Exactly Jupiter,” Cato said shrugging. “And what’s the problem with that?”
The pegasus’s eyes hardened. “First of all, it’s Lightning Bolt. Second, a race like this is incredibly cruel by any standard. And the fact that they applauded whenever they tripped at high speeds or crashed into the wall that could have left them in a bloody mess is appalling.”
“Oh come now,” Titus said. “There must be something from that race you must have enjoyed. The thrill of those racers flying by trying to outdo the other by any means must be exciting.”
Before he could object, trumpets blasted out for the next even to begin. Turning his attention to the track, Lightning Bolt saw three more groups of humans walk onto the dirt pathway, separated from each other by several hundred feet. Bolt looked over the three closest to them. The one closest to the Imperial box was a man in white robes carrying a stick. Another one had on a brass helmet that covered the entirety of his head, thick padding on his right arm and left leg, and carried a large shield and a bent sword. The third had what looked like a trident and a fishing net, along with padding on his left arm that held a tiny shield and a dagger.
“Ah! Here we go.” Titus leaned over in his seat. “Now the real entertainment is here!”
“What’s going on?” Bolt asked. “Is this another of your sports?”
“The finest ever conceived,” the Senator grinned. “A fantastic spectacle. Just watch.”
“They’re not really using real weapons, are they?”
“Just watch,” Caesar told him. Now, all eyes were upon these gladiators on the racetrack. Bolt kept his eyes on the ones that were closest to him. The robed man held a stick between the two others who looked at each other readily with weapons drawn. At a signal, the robed man stepped back, allowing the other two to fight. The one with the fishing net attempted to thrust his long trident at the other, but it was continually blocked by the other’s shield and brass helmet. With every jab, he tried to use his net to trip him up or catch his helmet to pull it off.
Meanwhile, Bolt looked around the stadium where swords and shields clashed, where they would claw at each other like wild beasts. Even for a pegasus who had spent years in the Royal Guard, taught about fighting close hoof-to-hoof combat with padded spears and occasionally swords to fend off dummies, he was still shocked that the audience cheered when the first blood was spilled.
Everywhere, he saw cuts being made in these human arms and legs that stabbed and slashed at each other. Yet, even when wounded, these warriors still lunged at one another.
“Ah! Look!” Titus pointed to the one with the net and trident suddenly was able to trip the other. Abandoning his pronged spear, he lunged at the other when his shield fell away, now they were using blades to defend themselves. Yet, for a while, there didn’t seem to be any real decisive winner until the one with the crooked sword made a move where his bent blade stopped at his chest and looked at the audience.
Bolt looked at the audience where he saw many of them making gestures with their hands and shouting at the two fighters. Most of them held out their fists where their thumbs were pointed at their necks while most had their thumbs lying flat over their bent index finger.
“What’s going on,” the Pegasus asked.
“By the looks of it,” the Emperor held out his arm, “it looks like both of them have won,” and closed his fist where his thumb laid flat over his index finger. Looking back, the man who carried the stick separated them, much to the pleasure of the crowd.
“Doesn’t anypony die to do this?” Bolt inquired. “I mean, it’s clear they’re using real weapons.”
“Sometimes,” Titus informed him. “In the Gladiatorial games, most of the time, the loser isn’t killed unless the other has already done that, or if the people want him to die because he didn’t fight hard enough, where they’ll accept it honorably with a stab in the throat.”
“But… that’s horrible,” the pegasus objected.
The Senator sighed with annoyance. “We’ve already said that most of them are condemned criminals, most of which would have been executed in other parts of the world for the same crime. These games were invented to keep the free man entertained and for the criminals to redeem themselves. Not every gladiator is killed, though it does happen from time to time.” He pointed towards another part of the arena where one of the warriors collapsed thanks to a deep cut through the stomach. “Simply replacing a gladiator can be expensive, and even if they lose and live, both winner and loser will be treated by doctors before the next round.”
‘I can’t tell if that’s clever or just barbaric,’ Lightning thought to himself. “But why do this? What’s the point of these dangerous games anyway?”
“If I may remind you, Lord Jupiter,” Caesar Titus said, leaning over, “Rome was, and still is, a nation in which we must either expand by war or die. The world we live in is never a peaceful one, with barbarians continually attacking our borders. We may be a warring nation, but we have to demonstrate our greatness by our armies, our construction projects, our art, and our entertainment to send this parlous world a message. Never mess with the Empire and the people of Rome.”
Disgusted, the pegasus spread his wings and flew out of the Imperial Box. “Where’re you going?” the Emperor asked.
Bolt paused for a moment. “To my temple, to get away from all of this.” And with that, he flew off in the direction away from the roaring crowd and two very concerned men.