'Keep that pig sticker in your belt. Come in useful if things get up close and nasty.' Brennus mimed a stabbing action. 'You knew to hit Flavus where it hurt.'

'Cotta showed me that.'

'A good man, that Libyan. Remember what he taught you. It's all about not forgetting the basics.'

'The basics?'

'Shield up. Thrust forward. Step back.' Brennus grinned. 'I still remember that every time I fight.'

'But I've seen you turn and slash at an opponent before.'

'Only when I know how he moves.' Brennus tapped his head. 'And thinks. Takes a while to get the measure of an enemy. Until you do, play it safe.'

'I will, Brennus.'

Romulus listened for a long time as the Gaul expounded on fighting technique and showed him new moves. Watching him wield a sword was awe-inspiring.

'In the arena, you're supposed to fight according to the gladiator code.' He stared hard at Romulus. 'That's what Cotta says, right?'

The young fighter nodded.

'Fine if you're talking about an ordinary points contest. But when it's to the death . . .' Brennus paused. 'Do whatever it takes.'

'What do you mean?'

'Kick sand in his face.' The Gaul scuffed a heavy sandal along the floor. 'Headbutt him with the edge of your helmet.'

Romulus' mouth fell open.

'Kick him in the balls if you can.'

'That's not fair.'

Brennus looked at Romulus shrewdly. 'Do you think Lentulus will hang back if you fall on the sand?'

He shook his head.

'Fighting in the arena is not about what is fair or unfair,' said the Gaul regretfully. 'It is about one thing only. Survival. Your life – or his!'

Kill or be killed. It was a stark choice.

'It's time Romulus slept,' Astoria broke in. 'Otherwise he 'll be too tired to fight that son of a whore.'

'Always take note of what your woman says.' He kissed Astoria's cheek.

'When do you ever listen to me?' she replied, stroking Brennus' arm.

Romulus was glad to lie back on the carpet, covered by a woollen blanket. The others soon retired to the bed alongside, the Gaul instantly starting to snore. In normal circumstances the noise would have kept Romulus awake for hours, but the nervous tension had drained away, leaving only exhaustion. He closed his eyes and let a dreamless sleep take hold.

In the morning, the gods would decide whether he or Lentulus would die.

Brennus woke Romulus well before dawn. It was still dark outside but Astoria was coaxing the fire in a small brazier.

'It's important to stretch the muscles before a fight.' Brennus led him in a series of exercises for some time before he was satisfied.

Astoria watched them loosen up. When they had finished, she gestured to bowls of steaming porridge. 'Sit down and eat.'

'Thank you, but I'm not hungry.'

'Eat. Even if it's only a few mouthfuls.'

'I'd be sick.'

'There's more than an hour till dawn and you'll be hungry by then.' Brennus sat down and launched into the huge portion that Astoria put in front of him. 'It's not good to fight on an empty stomach either.'

Romulus forced himself to eat the cooked oats. To his surprise, they tasted much better than the slop from the ludus kitchens.

'There's honey in it.' Astoria had seen his expression.

There was silence as they ate.

Wiping his mouth, the Gaul walked to the weapon racks and selected a short stabbing sword. 'Try this for size,' he said. 'A little small for me, but should do you well.'

Romulus took the gladius, admiring the simple wire design of the hilt and lethal edge on the straight blade. He held it loosely, gauging the balance. 'Feels good.'

'Take this too.' Brennus proffered a handsome round shield covered in dark red leather.

Romulus slipped his left arm into the grips and dropped into a crouch, peering over the iron rim, sword ready. 'These are far better quality than those Cotta lets me use.'

'I paid good money for them. Quality weaponry doesn't let you down.'

'Feels heavier than I expected.'

Brennus flashed a smile. 'Look at the bottom.'

Romulus lifted the shield. 'The metal's sharp as a blade!'

'You can slice a man's arm or leg with it. Or smash open his helmet. Like I did with Narcissus yesterday.'

The story of that fight had already been round the ludus, increasing the Gaul's stature even more. Many now said there wasn't a gladiator in Italy who could beat Brennus.

'The fool might still be alive if he hadn't tried to stab me at the end,' the big man said sadly.

'And if I hadn't killed Flavus, Astoria would have died.'

'There is no mercy in the ludus,' agreed Brennus. 'So always have a little surprise ready. And never presume the fight's over until you've cut a man's throat. Or Charon cracks his skull open.'

'I will kill Lentulus.' Romulus was surprised how steady his voice was.

Brennus clapped him on the shoulder. 'What about your manicae and greaves? They'll still be in your cell.'

'No. I can move faster without them.'

Respect flared in Brennus' eyes. 'I knew a man like that once,' he said softly.

Beams of sunlight began to creep through the window, illuminating the floor.

'Let's head outside. Nearly time.'

'May the gods protect you, Romulus,' Astoria blurted.

The Gaul led the way, with Romulus one step behind. The yard was already full of gladiators and a collective sigh went up as the pair emerged into the cool morning air.

Brennus turned quickly. 'Ignore anything they say,' he whispered in Romulus' ear. 'Some will be trying to scare you, others baiting you to get a response. Stay focused. Think only of Lentulus and the fight.'

The combat would take place in the area reserved for training with real weapons. As they walked, Romulus fixed his gaze on Brennus' broad shoulders. Plenty of derogatory comments were hurled.

'Lentulus will gut you like a fish!'

'Time to fight a man fairly – instead of stabbing him in the back.'

'Murderous little bastard!'

A murmillo who had been friends with Flavus spat on the ground directly in front. His hand was ready on the hilt of a curved knife. It seemed the man might do more but Sextus stepped forward, axe raised.

'Leave him be. You'll soon see whether Lentulus can extract revenge for the killing.'

Cowed by the scissores and his double-headed weapon, the murmillo moved back.

It was hard not to feel scared under the baleful glares of so many adult men. Romulus forced himself to inhale slowly, taking the breaths deep into his chest. It was a technique that Juba had taught him. He let the air out gradually and the effect was immediate. Romulus reached the square feeling calmer, following Brennus as he shoved past gladiators pressed up against the ropes. Everyone was eager to witness the duel.

A few fighters muttered encouragement and Romulus' spirits rose. Lentulus was not popular.

His opponent was already in the opposite corner, loosening muscular shoulders. 'I'm going to cut you up. Son of a whore,' he snarled.

Romulus ignored the Goth and continued to breathe deeply. Brennus lifted the rope for him to duck under.

'Let's stop pissing about! The rest of us have important training to do.' Memor stalked into the centre of the freshly raked sand and glared at both young fighters. His archers were ranged close behind, arrows notched in their drawn bows. Sextus moved to stand near the lanista, his axe at the ready. Sunlight glinted off razor-sharp metal. Romulus wondered with a thrill of dread what purpose Memor might have in mind for the scissores.

'No helmets. I want this over quickly.'

'I've no need.' Romulus smiled at the Goth, who had crammed on as much protection as possible.

Reluctantly Lentulus obeyed, but his right arm was still covered with manicae. Bronze greaves were strapped to the Goth's lower legs and his scutum was larger than that usually carried by secutores. In contrast, Romulus bore only Brennus' shield for defence.