StarDestroyer.Net BBS

Author's note: The "Barbarian Gladiator" story inspired me to post a different treatment of the same basic subject. It's actually a part of the backstory to one of the characters in the TBOverse. Enjoy.

The Flavian Ampitheater, Rome.
When the wooden doors swung open, she could see the expanse of sand and the sun was beating down, hard and fierce. Achillea could also smell the crowd, their pent-up excitement and their desire for death. She walked out into the Arena, hearing the cheers of her supporters in the crowd. She'd fought here in the Flavian many times and she had a small but dedicated following. Partly that was because she was a rarity, a female Secutor. More than that, she was a female Secutor who routinely took out her male opponents. Although she heard her fans cheering she paid them little attention. She was concentrating on her opponents who were already entering from the other side.

Two Retiarii. Her stomach took a lurch downwards. It was Retiarius versus Secutor. She was Secutor with her sword, shield and armor. The Retiarius had a net and a trident. Three to one odds in favor of the Retiarius the gamblers always reckoned. Only there were two Retiarii and she knew how the odds went. The number times itself. So the odds here were really almost ten to one. Against her. She had an unpleasant feeling this was a set-up, this fight was intended to end with her dying on the sand. She'd won a series of fights in this festival, for her to be brought down on the last day of the games would be a crowd-thrilling finale.

Two retiarii. As she walked across the sand towards the Imperial Box she eyed them, just as she knew they were eying her, each trying to learn as much about their opponents as possible. By the cheers that had greeted this pair, she guessed they were an established pair with their own circle of supporters. By the volume of cheering, much more numerous than hers. They carried their weapons with the ease of hardened professionals. Sometimes novices tried to imitate that but they couldn’t manage it. Still, at least they were both right-handers. Facing a left-hander in a match where the odds were already so skewed against her would have been too much.

They were different in character, their bearing showed that. Achillea noted the swagger of one, he'd taken the lead and was acknowledging the crowd as he approached the Imperial Box. She christened him "The Showman". The other was less obtrusive, he seemed to be keeping to the shadows and shunned attention. Achillea knew his sort, he would do what it took to win. A trident in the back, a hamstringing blow, whatever it needed. She dubbed him "The Assassin" and knew that of the pair he was the dangerous one. She also guessed how this pair worked. The Showman would put on a heroic display in the fight and freeze her attention on him while The Assassin stabbed her in the back. Contemplating this, Achillea didn't feel tempted to cooperate with their plans. Glancing around the Arena, marking the positions of the sun and the shadows, she had plans all of her own.

Opposite the Imperial Box, she lifted her sword so the blade caught the sun, flashing in the afternoon light. "Hail Caesar! We, who are about to die, salute you!" Then, in an extravagant gesture she removed her helmet and tossed it to one side. Facing two retiarii, she needed the extra vision much more than the largely illusory protection it offered.

The opening ceremony over, she turned to face her opponents. The crowd had seen matches in the Flavian before, many, many times and they knew the odds as well as she did. They also guessed that this was intended to be her last match and they were avid to see her die. If the fight went on, that's what would happen. To avoid it, she had to take at least one of the two down fast. That was her first priority and she knew which of her opponents had to die first. Oh yes she thought, die. There would be no time in this match to mess around wounding people. Not for the first one anyway.

The Showman was already approaching, the Assassin circling around to get behind her. It wouldn't be long before they had her between them. Then the fight would be over, she would be helpless in one or both nets and they would kill her. The showman was coming in classic-style, his trident held out, the net with its evil lead weights on the edges trailing behind him. Retiarius defended against Secutor using the length of the trident, a weapon that far outreached the sword. The net was the offensive weapon and she watched it with finely-focussed concentration.

The Showman cast his net, its length snaking out, low, near the ground. She guessed the Retiarius hoping to catch a foot or a knee, at least to trip her off balance, at best the lead weights would damage the joints and cripple her. Either would be good enough for them, Achillea knew well he was just trying to keep her distracted. She lifted her foot, just long enough to let the net pass. That move had a penalty, she knew it had left her unbalanced and what would come next. Sure enough, The Showman thrust his trident forward, aiming at her knees. Achilleas arm flipped and her shield dropped and slid sideways, its edge sliding between the sharpened tines of the trident. Then, she put all the strength of her left arm into a powerful twist that almost tore the weapon from The Showman's hands. That was the disadvantage of the length of a trident, leverage gave her a powerful mechanical bonus. That bonus virtually disarmed The Showman. His net was on the ground, his trident barely in his grip. He jumped backwards, recovering from the shock like the professional he was but the exchange had brought Achillea a few precious seconds to deal with The Assassin.

Her senses were working overtime, motion seemingly slowed to a crawl as her battle plan went into action. Even while her eyes confirmed that The Showman was out of the battle, her legs were already moving her forward into the attack. Not quite straight forward, she was angling off to the left. There had been a subtle shift in the balance of power here on the sand. Now, the initiative was shifting to her. By the time The Showman had recovered his balance and his weapon, she was off to his side, the blinding sun behind her, the two Retiarii in front of her. The Showman was recovering fast but he was still almost disarmed, his net strung out, his trident poorly held, only just in his hands. The Assassin was running in to the attack, expecting to sink his trident into her back. Only now he was facing her head-on - and he was staring straight into the sun.

His preferred method of attack might be a stab in the back or a crushing blow to the spine with the lead weights on his net but The Assassin didn't lack courage. No professional gladiator did. He stopped his attack run, carefully measuring her up before resuming his attack. The Assassin repeated the attack used by The Showman, flicking his net in another low sweep along the ground. Achillea repeated the classic defense to that attack, jumping to avoid the entangling folds. Her concentration was absolute for this was a deadly dangerous maneuver and needed perfect timing to pull off. She had calculated this jump carefully, it had taken her slightly forward so that both feet were landing on the edge of the net. The Assassin gave a cry of triumph at her error and hauled at the net with all his strength, intending to whip her feet out from under her. That was what she had been praying for her knees were already bent when she landed and her second jump followed the first so fast that she was touching the ground for barely a heartbeat. Even so, she felt the pull on her feet as she was rising again and knew she would be off-balance when she landed. That didn’t matter, not now, for she could see that he had been anticipating the resistance from her weight. Even as he pulled she could see him stagger backwards and, without the expected resistance to his pull, he fell. Achillea landed and leapt forward. The Assassin realized what was about to happen, she could see desperation flood his face as he tried to bring his trident to bear. But, it was too late, the weapon was too long and she was already inside its points. Her Spatha flicked out, slicing across the great artery in the sprawling mans leg. Blood fountained skywards in a crimson arc and the crowd roared their delight. A minute or two ago they had been panting to see her die, now they cheered her on with every breath they had.

Achillea's peripheral vision showed her that The Showman had recovered and was already coming in fast, moving to the attack even as The Assassin died on the sand. She'd had barely enough time, the margin had been so fine that she knew she would think about it later and shake with fear of what might have happened. But not now, not here. Now, it was a straight Secutor against Retiarus. This was a game she knew well. Achillea started backing up, keeping space between her and The Showman, keeping away from the points of his trident and that evil net. The Showman made his throw, a perfect cast. Achillea saw the net descending on her in an enveloping, entangling shawl. If she had been underneath it, that shawl would have been her death-shroud but Achillea wasn't underneath it. She'd expected that throw, counted on it even. While backing up she had slipped her left arm free of the straps on her shield and her grip had shifted subtly.

As the net flew towards her, Achillea threw her shield at it. Her changed grip meant she could throw it like a discus and the circular bronze caught the net dead center and deflected it away from her. That left the net weighted and useless on the ground while she dived away in the opposite direction, hitting the ground in a smooth roll and using her now-free left hand to boost her back to her feet. By the time The Showman realized his cast had failed, she was once again in her traditional gladiator's crouch but she'd lost her shield. Achillea shook her head slightly, shaking the sweat away from her eyes. This was now a battle of attrition, The Showman had lost his net, she had lost her shield. It was down to trident against spatha.

The Showman saw his chance and charged. He abandoned any chance of recovering his net, it was hopelessly entangled with her shield. As any Showman would, as Achillea knew he would, he wanted to end this battle in the great classic style, with a perfect lunge that would transfix her. So he moved in, his trident held straight out before him, relying on its reach to beat the spatha. He was angling out, trying to herd Achillea into the corner of the stadium, where she could be trapped and slaughtered. She kept moving sideways, specifically to avoid that trap but also to move to the position where she wanted this battle to end. Her eyes were fixed on the Showman's face, taking in every detail of him, his sweat, the movement of his eyes, the expression on his mouth. And so when his eyes hardened and the skin around his mouth tightened, she was ready.

He thrust, a perfect thrust, from his back foot through the line of the hip, leg and torso to the shoulders, arms and hands and finally to the trident with its three shining razor-points. A perfect thrust, but Achillea was waiting for it. Again, time seemed to slow to a crawl as she saw the points of the trident move towards her. She flowed around them, her body seeming boneless despite her armor. Then, her left hand, now free of the shield, grabbed the trident, above the tines and pulled hard. The Showman already had all of his weight and balance behind the thrust, pushing the trident forward and the extra pull threw his balance completely off. He fell towards her, helpless with his net gone and her body inside the reach of his trident. The spatha flicked again and Achillea saw it sink deep into his side. The showman was crippled, helpless and the battle was over.

Achillea stepped backwards and spun around, holding her sword high. Its blade was now gleaming red in the low afternoon sun, the blood of the defeated retiarii trickling down on to her wrist . She'd planned the fight so she was standing back where she had started, in front of the Imperial Box. Around her, filling the Flavian was a huge, swelling roar of applause. Then, as her perception widened beyond the narrow confines of the battle on the sand and her need to survive, she realized it was more than that. The crowd were going wild, chanting her name. They were cheering, stamping, the chant of "ACH – ILL – E - A" ringing around the tiered seats. She continued her turn, still holding high her sword, saluting the crowd who applauded her.

Then, they quietened as the Emperor stood and reached out his hand, his fist closed. The hand opened so that the fingers formed a blade, then that blade swept down in a brutally final gesture. Achillea nodded and went to where The Showman lay crippled in the sand. "Hold still." Her words were whispered and she saw his eyes close in acknowledgement. There was no resentment, just resignation. After all, the fight had been business, not personal and Achillea knew she would, one day, be in his place. Then her sword moved swiftly and The Showman died.

A blast of trumpets normally marked the end of the match but this time they heralded an announcement that stilled the crowd. "By the decision of the Emperor, the Secutor Achillea has entertained us bravely and well. She fought with bronze and she will be rewarded with wood. From the emperor's own hand, she is awarded her wooden sword."

Her wooden sword! It meant freedom. She was a freewoman, no longer a slave. Her mind still trying to comprehend her new status she strode forward and accepted the symbolic sword, raising it in salute to the Emperor who had freed her and then to the crowd whose approbation had made his decision for him. Then, she picked up her discarded helmet and went through the wooden doors, back to her Lanista.

"What do you plan to do now Achillea?" The trainer looked at her with envy. She was young to have gained such an honor. Achillea looked at him, looked at the other gladiators admiring her wooden sword, the thoughts in their minds obvious. They too, if they fought well, could be so honored.

"Do?" Achillea looked at him curiously. "Go back out there of course. It's all I know how to do."

Postscript: As followers of the TBOverse know, Achillea is wrong on one point. She doesn't die in the Arena - or anywhere else.

Hmmmm. I really enjoyed the story, but a few things jumped out at me.

Somehow, I doubt this is how the fight would have gone. For one, no retiarii would ever engage a Secutor in pairs. The odds of survival are so astronomically low for a scutor that the fight most likely would have been dishonorable from the start. In fact, we only ever know of one gladiator engaging two gladiators (coincidentally, one retarius against two swordsmen).

Second, female gladiators apparently never fought males, but either dwarves or each other.

I also do not really think that the fight went on as it should - for why did the retarii not circle Achileia and simultaneously attack?

Why does none of them use the trident as a fighting stick? And third, why does none of them use his pugio? If you have a dagger with up to 28cm length, why not use it in close combat or at least get ready to draw it?

I also find it extremely implausible that the retarius left would lunge at her.

Well, it's a little wordy, but you do get into the head of the female gladiator very well.

Thanas wrote:Hmmmm.

Somehow, I doubt this is how the fight would have gone. For one, no retiarii would ever engage a Secutor in pairs. The odds of survival are so astronomically low for a scutor that the fight most likely would have been dishonorable from the start. In fact, we only ever know of one gladiator engaging two gladiators (coincidentally, one retarius against two swordsmen).

Second, female gladiators apparently never fought males, but either dwarves or each other.

This is why I'm never going to write anything about real gladiators: you can't win.

I also do not really think that the fight went on as it should - for why did the retarii not circle Achileia and simultaneously attack?

It seems like they tried that to start with, but their timing was off by a few seconds, which gave her an opening.

And third, why does none of them use his pugio? If you have a dagger with up to 28cm length, why not use it in close combat or at least get ready to draw it?

The Assassin didn't have time; in effect (yes, I'm using terms wrong, I'm sorry but they're the only ones I know) she parried the net and nailed him with a riposte before he had a chance to go to a more appropriate weapon.

I can't guess why the Showman didn't; as far as I can tell he just flat out made a mistake (trying to lunge with the trident, which by nature excluded going to the dagger).

Thanas wrote:Somehow, I doubt this is how the fight would have gone. For one, no retiarii would ever engage a Secutor in pairs. The odds of survival are so astronomically low for a scutor that the fight most likely would have been dishonorable from the start. In fact, we only ever know of one gladiator engaging two gladiators (coincidentally, one retarius against two swordsmen).

There were fights in which the odds were astronomical and were really ritualized deaths that true fights. It's suggested that this was one of those, intended to be a dramatic conclusion in which a gladiator who had had a run of success was brought down on the last day of the games. The reward Achillea got at the end, her wooden scroll from the Emperor's own hand, is a measure of just how the odds were stacked against her and how remarkable her win was.

Second, female gladiators apparently never fought males, but either dwarves or each other.

That depends on time and place. When I was researching Achillea, I did come across references in Asia Minor to matches between male and female gladiators and references to the latter carrying the spatha rather than the gladius in order to offset their lesser reach when fighting men. Achillea's back story is that she came out of Asia Minor and ended up in Rome. (The actual character is taken from refernces to a gladiatorial match between "Achillea" and "Amazonia"). Most female gladiators who fought on foot did so as retiarii or (at most) murmillones. However, I agree that female foot gladiators were rare; mostly they were Essedari or Saggitarii. It's suggested that Achillea as a female Secutor is so rare as to be almost unique and a bit of an embarrassment; hence the decision to kill her off at the end of the show. One that went badly wrong.

I also do not really think that the fight went on as it should - for why did the retarii not circle Achileia and simultaneously attack?

They tried to; that was their primary battle plan. She disrupted their coordination and went sideways, escaping that trap. I've actually got this fight drawn out showing the moves. Essentially, she got inside their decision loop and took the major threat (The Assassin) out first rather than get distracted by The Showman.

Why does none of them use the trident as a fighting stick? And third, why does none of them use his pugio? If you have a dagger with up to 28cm length, why not use it in close combat or at least get ready to draw it?

Basic trouble, three weapons, two hands. It's actually worse than that because it's almost impossible to use a trident one-handed so it's really four weapons, two hands. Long daggers are really an abortion, they're too short to be useful in a fight againts a sword and too long to be usable in a close-range in-fight. There's a reason why most bayonets and fighting knives are six inches at most (the British Army did extensive trials on this and found that the ideal bayonet is four inches long. Longer ones look impressive but are actually a liability.) So, our retirarii had several weapons options. They start with trident and net with the latter the primary offensive weapons. That takes up both hands and even then means they can't use the trident properly, Once the nets are gone (one because the body of the previous owner is on top of it, the other because the net is hopelessly entangled in a shield), the retiarii has a choice. he can draw his puglio, but if he does, he has only one hand for his trident and that compromises his primary defensive weapon. He's likely to find the secutor has parried the trident out of line (easy to do when its held with only one hand - leverage again) and he is now stuck with the secutor inside his trident but outside the reach of his trident. (Incidentally, its very hard to use a pole arm and a dagger at once; the two require different thought patterns). His other choice is to forget about the Puglio and use both hands on the trident. This is the smart option, maximizing the effect of his best defensive weapon (and with his net gone, defense is all he's got).

So why the puglio if its so useless. My bet is that its there to finish off the poor guy entangled in the net.

Using the trident as a fighting stick? Not practical, its too long. The user would have to break it first and that's throwing away his primary advantage, reach

I also find it extremely implausible that the retarius left would lunge at her.

With respect, I would beg to differ on that. The poor Showman is running out of options (he's in the coffin corner where one runs out of time, energy and ideas simultaneously.) His Plan A and Plan B have both gone sour and he knows he's up against an opponent who is good, very good in fact and that his first mistake is his last. He only has one real tactical advantage left and that;s the reach of his weapon. Now, normally, against a secutor with sword and shield, a thrust is a pretty good idea; at best it can do some harm (and cumulative harm is good from his point of view), at worst, it keeps the secutor out of sword reach. With sword and shield, the Secutor doesn't have a free hand to play with so grabbing the trident isn't an option. However, Achillea has dumped her shield, a major loss in both offensive and defensive power but it does give her a free hand. The Showman had another thought in his mind; he knew that running away (which is what a continuous retreat would look like) would not go down well with the crowd. He's lost the initiative and knew that his opponent was just waiting for his blunder. So he got desperate and tried a thrust.

In story-telling terms, the thrust collapses the deadlock period which is boring to read about. I agree that the two would have gone around in circles for several minutes while they tried various non-productive gambits. However, that doesn't make a good story so I went straight to an end-game.

The fight between sword and trident can be put in purely sword terms by a fight between rapier and katana. Given swordsmen of equal caliber, the katana cannot win. No matter how he moves, the rapier is always there pointing at him. If he moves to the attack, the difference in reach means he gets stuck. That's not hypothesis, I've seen it done. If he doesn't attack, the two just go around in circles. The only way the match gets resolved is when one of them makes a mistake. Either the katana gets so frustrated that he tries an attack and gets skewered or the rapier makes an ill-timed thrust that gets deflected and the katana gets inside his point. Then, its the rapier that's defenseless.

I should have said this before: good fight scene. A little wordy, I agree, but that works for it as much as against it.

Stuart wrote:With respect, I would beg to differ on that. The poor Showman is running out of options (he's in the coffin corner where one runs out of time, energy and ideas simultaneously.) His Plan A and Plan B have both gone sour and he knows he's up against an opponent who is good, very good in fact and that his first mistake is his last... In story-telling terms, the thrust collapses the deadlock period which is boring to read about. I agree that the two would have gone around in circles for several minutes while they tried various non-productive gambits. However, that doesn't make a good story so I went straight to an end-game.

The only problem is that you don't communicate that the Showman has run out of options; he goes straight from "ohcrap, I'm up against the Secutor From Hell and my net's gone" to "final desperate lunge" in between paragraphs.

A few sentences (or, hell, even one sentence) covering the fact that there was a deadlock might be in order.

Stuart wrote:There were fights in which the odds were astronomical and were really ritualized deaths that true fights. It's suggested that this was one of those, intended to be a dramatic conclusion in which a gladiator who had had a run of success was brought down on the last day of the games. The reward Achillea got at the end, her wooden scroll from the Emperor's own hand, is a measure of just how the odds were stacked against her and how remarkable her win was.

I would ask you for your sources. For a ritualized death does not really equal a end contest in a prize match.

That depends on time and place. When I was researching Achillea, I did come across references in Asia Minor to matches between male and female gladiators and references to the latter carrying the spatha rather than the gladius in order to offset their lesser reach when fighting men.

In Asia Minor. This does not translate to an empire-wide practice or even suggest that this was common in Rome. What are your sources for this, btw?

Achillea's back story is that she came out of Asia Minor and ended up in Rome. (The actual character is taken from refernces to a gladiatorial match between "Achillea" and "Amazonia").

Yes, I know, a relief of Halicarnassos. I've seen that one.

Most female gladiators who fought on foot did so as retiarii or (at most) murmillones. However, I agree that female foot gladiators were rare; mostly they were Essedari or Saggitarii. It's suggested that Achillea as a female Secutor is so rare as to be almost unique; hence the decision to kill her at the end of the show.

But why?

Here is my problem with that. The Roman idea is that the male is superior to the female. Thus, having a female fight two males is...well, in the roman mindset it would turn likely as if you would throw in an 80year old man in a wheelchair against a trained MMA artist. The simple appearance of this fight would make the crowd think it dishonorable. The fight announcement offers no dramatic potential for the roman viewer.

In any case, you have the most dishonorable male gladiator class fight an even more dishonorable female gladiator in a dishonorable setting. I do not think the emperor would sanction that.

They tried to; that was their primary battle plan. She disrupted their coordination and went sideways, escaping that trap. I've actually got this fight drawn out showing the moves. Essentially, she got inside their decision loop and took the major threat (The Assassin) out first rather than get distracted by The Showman.

Hmmm. I don't know. Something about that rubs me the wrong way. It sounds as if she got the drop on two highly specialized and trained professionals.

BTW, I still maintain that using two retarii is completely ahistorical.

As for the rest, I accept your explanation. Something still irks me, but I can't pinpoint what atm so I'll concede that.,

Thanas wrote:I would ask you for your sources. In Asia Minor. This does not translate to an empire-wide practice or even suggest that this was common in Rome. What are your sources for this, btw?

I'll try and dig them out. This was actually written back in 2004 so the references I used aren't consolidated any more. Some are books I've got, some are ones I borrowed via inter-library loan and some were internet sources that may no longer be available. I'll try and put together what I can. I know that isn't satisfactory academically but this is fiction after all so the rules are a bit looser.

Yes, I know, a relief of Halicarnassos. I've seen that one.

Cool, isn't it?

But why? Here is my problem with that. The Roman idea is that the male is superior to the female. Thus, having a female fight two males is...well, in the roman mindset it would turn likely as if you would throw in an 80year old man in a wheelchair against a trained MMA artist. The simple appearance of this fight would make the crowd think it dishonorable. The fight announcement offers no dramatic potential for the roman viewer.

For the very reason you say; we have a female secutor coming in from Asia Minor and making mincemeat of some male opponents. To a Rome built on male superiority, that's shocking. She simply wasn't supposed to live this long let alone start building up a fan club of her own. So her final match was one where she theoretically couldn't survive. Only she did. Suddenly, what was supposed to be a ritualized slaughter turns out to be a stunning demonstration of skill.

Hmmm. I don't know. Something about that rubs me the wrong way. It sounds as if she got the drop on two highly specialized and trained professionals.

Well, she is a highly trained and specialized professional herself. Just how good is something her present owners found out a bit too late.

I still maintain that using two retarii is completely ahistorical.

Probably but it might have happened somewhere in the Roman empire between 100 and 400 AD. Look hard enough and we can find examples of most things happening a few times.

Simon_Jester wrote:The only problem is that you don't communicate that the Showman has run out of options; he goes straight from "ohcrap, I'm up against the Secutor From Hell and my net's gone" to "final desperate lunge" in between paragraphs.
A few sentences (or, hell, even one sentence) covering the fact that there was a deadlock might be in order.

Rereading this after six years, I'm inclined to agree with you. The logic is that Achillea doesn't know (is probably guessing) that he's running out of ideas but she doesn't know that. What she sees is what we read and that's what he does, not why.

Trying to explain why runs us into several structural problems. We can have Achillea hypothesizing about what is making him eract the way he does but that would be unrealistic. She's interested in what he's doing, not why. Been there, done that, holding somebody at gunpoint, one is interested in what they are doing not why. Thinking about why comes later when the shakes start. The other way would be to suddenly shift viewpoint and that's a very bad idea. A sudden shift of viewpoint in the middle of a narrative is a literary sin and one authors are enjoined to avoid. It results in a defocussed narrative. I usually try and avoid that by using the sub-headings (the italic bits that give place and time -- each sub-head is a shift of viewpoint either to a person or to neutral. Another possibility is we can step out of PoV for a while and fill in the details. That has potential.

I'd argue actually that this isn't wordy, if anything its too terse. That's because it was originally one section in a longer story. It should be split up into several sections, perhaps starting with Achillea, shifting to (say) a member of the audience or in teh Imperial Box for the bit where she and The Showman are jousting and then back to her for the finale.

Stuart wrote:Trying to explain why runs us into several structural problems. We can have Achillea hypothesizing about what is making him eract the way he does but that would be unrealistic. She's interested in what he's doing, not why. Been there, done that, holding somebody at gunpoint, one is interested in what they are doing not why. Thinking about why comes later when the shakes start.

I'd be curious to hear more, because the insight help my own essays* in the direction of competent writing, but I don't want to be pushy about it.

*Pun very much intended.

The other way would be to suddenly shift viewpoint and that's a very bad idea. A sudden shift of viewpoint in the middle of a narrative is a literary sin and one authors are enjoined to avoid. It results in a defocussed narrative. I usually try and avoid that by using the sub-headings (the italic bits that give place and time -- each sub-head is a shift of viewpoint either to a person or to neutral. Another possibility is we can step out of PoV for a while and fill in the details. That has potential.

What I'd suggest (I think this counts as stepping out of PoV) is a short description of an extended deadlock full of false starts and failed gambits. Not a full blow-by-blow, but enough to get the sense that you're looking at two skilled combatants who are still on roughly equal terms, and that the fight ends when one of them makes a concrete mistake rather than just getting stupid the moment he loses his net. This helps set up the Showman as a competent opponent, too: he's not just a showman, even if he's less dangerous than the Assassin.

I agree that actively switching points of view for anything less than a significant sub-section is a bad idea; I learned that much fairly early on. Another way to get round the problem would just be for Achillea to think something along the lines of "I've got him cornered, now it's just a matter of waiting for him to make a mistake." That's very much inside her head, and it's a relevant thing for her to think, if there's any part of her mind thinking about the fight above the blow by blow level. And there seems to be- she's not a berserker.

I'd argue actually that this isn't wordy, if anything its too terse. That's because it was originally one section in a longer story. It should be split up into several sections, perhaps starting with Achillea, shifting to (say) a member of the audience or in teh Imperial Box for the bit where she and The Showman are jousting and then back to her for the finale.

As a full-on short story it's terse. I was reading it as if it were a scene in a longer work, and as a fight scene it's a bit wordy. For example:

"His preferred method of attack might be a stab in the back or a crushing blow to the spine with the lead weights on his net but The Assassin didn't lack courage."
You could drop about half that sentence and still convey the same meaning:
"His preferred method of attack might be a stab in the back, but The Assassin didn't lack courage."
and still deliver the same meaning. On a sentence-by-sentence basis, the scene is wordy in a lot of places.

Now, as a standalone, that works for it as well as against it, because it has to establish all the background by itself. You're trying to get the reader into Achillea's mind, and that means communicating the kinds of things she thinks about. She thinks about ways to kill people with muscle powered weapons a lot, and she's probably pretty cold about it by now. So detailed, emotionless descriptions of ways to do that serve your purpose.

But if you were writing an entire novel about Achillea the gladiatrix, and this was the climactic battle after I'd already read half a dozen similar fight scenes, it would be starting to get a little old. Sort of like how Doc Smith can only write about so many "lambent beams of coruscating force that no material substance could withstand for an instant" before the reader starts to think "yeah, yeah, get to the point!"

Stuart wrote:I'll try and dig them out. This was actually written back in 2004 so the references I used aren't consolidated any more. Some are books I've got, some are ones I borrowed via inter-library loan and some were internet sources that may no longer be available. I'll try and put together what I can. I know that isn't satisfactory academically but this is fiction after all so the rules are a bit looser.

No need to rush on my account. After all, like you said, this is not academic work.

Yes, I know, a relief of Halicarnassos. I've seen that one.

Cool, isn't it?

It is, but certainly no indication of a widespread practice.

But why? Here is my problem with that. The Roman idea is that the male is superior to the female. Thus, having a female fight two males is...well, in the roman mindset it would turn likely as if you would throw in an 80year old man in a wheelchair against a trained MMA artist. The simple appearance of this fight would make the crowd think it dishonorable. The fight announcement offers no dramatic potential for the roman viewer.

For the very reason you say; we have a female secutor coming in from Asia Minor and making mincemeat of some male opponents. To a Rome built on male superiority, that's shocking. She simply wasn't supposed to live this long let alone start building up a fan club of her own. So her final match was one where she theoretically couldn't survive. Only she did. Suddenly, what was supposed to be a ritualized slaughter turns out to be a stunning demonstration of skill.

But the Romans would not have let it progress that far. By killing her in a 2:1 match they admit that she was no match for a single male gladiator (and there is the thing about it being possibly dishonourable per se). So they have got nothing to gain by letting her fight and in fact admit dishonour and loss of face by letting her do so.

Well, she is a highly trained and specialized professional herself. Just how good is something her present owners found out a bit too late.

So they did not test her? But I am willing to chalk this up to dramatic license.

I still maintain that using two retarii is completely ahistorical.

Probably but it might have happened somewhere in the Roman empire between 100 and 400 AD. Look hard enough and we can find examples of most things happening a few times.

That answers is not really satisfying to me as a historian. The abscence of proof is not proof, especially not when it goes against what we know so far.

Another thing - the relief of Halicarnassos only shows two provocatores. So if we use that one as evidence, it does not follow that there was a female counterpart to the retiarius, as provocatores only fought against other swordsmen.


But I am willing to overlook that for the sake of dramatic license, like I said, I did enjoy the story.