Seventh Dimension - The King - Book 2, A Young Adult Fantasy (22 page)

“She?”

“Cynisca is the best trainer I’ve ever had.”

I couldn’t imagine being trained by a woman.

“So we are all set?” Dominus asked.

“Yes.” I reached out to shake his hand. “I’ll decide
tomorrow and let you know for sure.”

“Sounds good.” Dominus walked me to the door. “Check
out that boarding house. I know the owner. Tell him I sent
you.”

“Thank you.” As
I left, I waved farewell to my new employer and hurried across the
street. A woman gladiator—I’d never heard of such a thing. What
would that be like, to be trained by a woman? My teachers never
mentioned women gladiators in history class.

A few minutes
later, I entered the apartment lobby. Several Greek and Roman
statues greeted me. I didn’t understand why they were so
ill-clothed.

An older man stood behind the counter. I gave him my
name, adding that Dominus had suggested his rooming house to
me.

The man smiled. “I can rent to you week-to-week. The
rooms are clean.”

I nodded. “Sounds good.”

The man handed me a slip. “Did you just move
here?”

“I’m training to be a charioteer.”

He raised his
eyebrow. “Dominus has the best team of horses. You will win many
races. He only hires the best gladiators.”

“It would be an honor to win,” I replied. I paid the
clerk the rent and left to find my room.

More half-naked gods and goddesses lined the
hallway. I found my apartment and was pleased with its size and
cleanliness. I lit the oil lamp and sat on my bed, studying the
wooden walls and floor. I laid my head on the bed and soon fell
asleep.

*~*~*~*

The next
morning I needed to decide—should I take my money or not? I
expected the training to be demanding. Did I want to risk losing
it? I hid my shekels in the folds of the bed. No one had a key to
the room, and I checked that the locked window was secure. I
wouldn’t tell anyone where I lived.

I left my
apartment and snatched a quick snack from a street vender on the
square. Walking past the city gates, I admired the harbor. It would
rival any modern day construction in both beauty and
size.

Birds circled overhead as fishermen threw their nets
out for the morning catch. I’d come back later when I had more
time.

I passed the
hippodrome and continued south until I came to the Equi Palmati
Stables. A private dirt road opened up to a large field. Five brown
horses and one white horse were galloping through the pasture. The
stables were barely visible from the road. To the right was a short
circular dirt track.

A dark-skinned
man approached me, smiling.

I introduced
myself. “I’m Daniel, son of Aviv, from Jerusalem, and I’m here to
meet Cynisca.”

The man replied, “I spoke to Dominus this morning
and he told me to expect you. Come this way.”

I followed him
to the stables. The man opened the gate and inside the stall was a
young woman. She was tall and slender, in excellent physical shape,
and had her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wore no makeup.
When she saw me, she smiled.

The attendant
introduced us and left. An awkward silence followed. She was
wrapping a horse’s leg. “Give me a second,” the girl said, “and
I’ll be right with you.”

“No problem.” I
stepped outside the stall and studied my surroundings. I liked
being around horses again.

A few minutes
later, Cynisca walked out and joined me. She interrupted my musings
with her friendly chatter. “I’m glad to meet you, Daniel. May I
call you Daniel?”

“Sure.”

“I mean, it’s
all very informal here, as long as the boss isn’t
around.”

I nodded.

“So, you want to be a gladiator?”

“A charioteer.”

“You want to
race?” she clarified.

“I want to try it. I told Dominus I would let him
know after today.”

Cynisca
scrutinized me—much as I’d seen animals evaluated at a livestock
show. Could I meet her standards?

She ran her
fingers along my arm muscles. “Well, you’re strong enough to drive
a chariot. Have you ever driven one?”

I shook my head.

“I’m going to train you. Your first race is in three
weeks. We’ll start you with racing two horses. Once you can handle
two, we’ll try you with four. Four is harder to steer than
two.”

“All right.”
That sounded like a good plan.

“Let’s go out
front and I’ll show you some things with the chariot. Tomorrow
we’ll continue your training at the hippodrome.”

Cynisca
laughed. “We’ll go slowly before throwing you to the lions—just
joking.”

I didn’t think it was funny.

She turned more
serious. “You need a natural affinity, good balance, depth
perception, and focus.”

I could add one
more quality—courage. “Sure,” I replied.

Cynisca led me towards the front. She introduced me
to several horses, noting which ones I seemed to prefer.

She told me
about the history of chariot racing, some of her travels to Rome
and Greece, where she had competed, and how they imported the
horses from Africa. Every year her family made the trek, not an
easy journey in first-century Palestine.

Cynisca called
over the man I had met earlier and asked him to hook up two horses
to one of the chariots. Once the setup was completed, she had me
step up onto the chariot. When she joined me, my heart fluttered.
Together we rode behind the horses on the dirt practice field. She
demonstrated what to do effortlessly. I was impressed with her
skill and strength.

My mind
wandered. Did she have a boyfriend? How could such a beautiful
young woman remain single at her age? Most women in this century
were married by the time they were sixteen. She might have been
twenty or twenty-one—too old for an unmarried woman.

The day passed
too briskly—or maybe I was having too much fun. As evening
approached, I knew I had to compete. I couldn’t wait to come back
the following day. I wanted to impress Cynisca. She came from a
long line of gladiators. Women weren’t allowed to compete in the
Olympics but they could race. She had won many races.

“So where are
you staying, Daniel?” Cynisca asked, after we put the horses back
in the stall.

“Close to the
hippodrome, within walking distance.”

“That’s good,” she replied. “I still live with my
family. Haven’t met the right one to marry yet.” She tossed her
head and laughed. “I’m too independent.”

I respected her
free spirit.

“Did your mother race?” I asked.

“Mother and
Father. They named me after the famous woman gladiator from
Egypt.”

“It’s a pretty
name.”

“Thank you.” She stood and reached her hand out to
me.

I followed her lead.

“You will be an excellent charioteer because you
have the best trainer in the world.”

I didn’t know
how to respond. She probably said that to everyone. As I strode
home, I realized I hadn’t thought about Shale all day. The only
thing I could think about was racing—and getting to know Cynisca
better.

The next day I
entered the hippodrome, awestruck. The pristine structure stood in
ruins in my time. To see the arena in its glory now left me
speechless.

I ran my hand along the kukar stone at the gated
entrance. The inscription surprised me—TIBERIUM TIVS PILATUS. The
Pilate stone—the only archeological evidence of the prefect’s
existence. I’d seen this stone in the Jerusalem museum. Would I
have a chance to meet the governor?

I walked down
the steps and entered through the triumphal gate. The semicircular
track spread out before me. The seats extended up on all sides like
a football stadium. I imagined the roar of twenty-five thousand
fans, the thundering of horses, and the clamor of
chariots.

A cold sweat came over me—partly from fright and
partly from excitement.

Cynisca was at
the flat end of the stadium by the stables. She waved. I smiled and
ambled towards her. She wore what looked like a very expensive
one-piece bathing suit—the female version of a charioteer’s
wardrobe. Her exalted status of lead trainer was obvious as others
submitted to her. She didn’t show a hint of intimidation from the
male gladiators.

Her hair was down today, with the straight ends
touching her shoulders. Her mannerisms exuded a confidence I wasn’t
used to seeing in a young woman, but when had I met a woman
gladiator?

The men at the
far end were in various stages of preparation. Most were suited up
in traditional racing garb. Since I was still a trainee, I didn’t
have mine. Instead, I wore a rather drab brown cloak.

I was anxious
to hitch up my horses. Inhaling deeply, my stomach crawled up—I
should have skipped breakfast.

Cynisca greeted me. “So you decided, huh?”

“To race?”

She nodded.

“Absolutely. My mind was made up yesterday.”

“I wanted to make sure. Sometimes when trainees
leave they reconsider.”

“I want to try it,” I replied.

Cynisca placed her hands on her waist, as if going
through a mental checklist. “You know it’s a year-long
commitment?”

That meant I’d have to stay in Caesarea longer than
I wanted. If I did change my mind, though, what would they do about
it? I had nothing to lose—except my life. Would not the money be
worth the risk?

Before I
replied, Cynisca continued. “I’m sure he’d release you after the
first couple of days if you changed your mind.”

“I’d doubt he’d want me racing if my heart wasn’t in
it.”

“That would be a grave mistake,” Cynisca agreed.
“But the closer we get to your first race and the greater the
investment in your training, the more he’s relying on you.”

“Is he a fair person?”

Cynisca laughed broadly. “He’s never here. He shows
up for the races. That’s the best kind of employer, isn’t it?”

She winked. “If
you win, you become rich. Many have done so—if they aren’t trampled
by the chariots or the horses.”

“Do the fans know who you are?”

“You mean do the fans know who their favorite
gladiators are?”

I nodded.

Cynisca
chuckled. “Sure they know. We have the most devoted followers in
Caesarea. If you win, they will worship you as if you were a god.
If you lose, they’ll want you replaced by someone else.”

I changed the
subject. “Who are those men?” I pointed to the gladiators by the
stables.

Cynisca
followed my finger. “Oh, those are different teams. We each have a
practice time on the tracks. Our slot is in about an hour with an
hour allotted. You can watch a few of the teams, but I have some
other things to go over with you.”

“Sure.”

Cynisca waved her hand. “You can learn a lot by
watching others.”

“I plan to do
that.”

Cynisca motioned. “Follow me. Let’s go over some of
the rules.”

We walked over and sat at a shaded table. A chariot
pulled by four horses passed us.

Cynisca smiled. “That’s the red team. We’re the
white team.”

“He has four horses. I thought I was racing
two.”

“Oh, sure, don’t worry. Nidal is an experienced
charioteer. He and his brother Tariq Naser are our biggest
competition. I want you to study everything they do.”

“I
will.”

Cynisca leaned over and whispered. “They’re out of
this world.”

“What does that mean?”

Cynisca slapped
her leg and laughed. “That got your attention. They were
spectacular even in their first race. I have no idea where they
trained. We have yet to beat them. That’s why Dominus is so
antsy.”

“I can beat
them,” I said, with more certainty than I felt.

“They will try to knock you off your chariot, ram
your horses.”

“Is that legal?”

Cynisca scrunched up her face. “Legal? What does
that mean?”

“Like rules?”

“Oh, yes, rules. Let me see what we didn’t cover
yesterday.”

Cynisca studied her notes. “I don’t think we talked
about this. The chariots are modified war chariots. So when you
race, you have to imagine yourself fighting—as if you were fighting
to the death.”

I grimaced.
Sounded like an exaggeration. This was just a race. I shrugged.
“Whatever.”

Cynisca furrowed her brow. “You think I’m kidding,
don’t you?”

I shook my head. “No, but you make it sound so—so
scary.”

Cynisca leaned
over the table. “When you’re racing, you must have that killer
instinct. Those gladiators are out for blood. If you don’t have
that killer instinct, you’ll get slammed—thrown into the spina or
metae.”

“What’s the—”

“The stone
pillars. Caesar! Sounds like you’ve never even seen a race
before.”

I wasn’t going to tell her I hadn’t.

“Understand?”

I nodded.

Cynisca slapped the table with her hand.

I jumped.

She threw up
her hands. “Show some emotion! Are you scared, excited?”

“Maybe a little of both.”

She laughed.
“If I can do it, you can do it. Show some passion.”

“I got it.”