Butara's eyes transferred their attention from the King to the slave, Dania. How dreadful he looked. Why must the guards be so cruel? And the other man in the red and brown Roman soldier's uniform. His posture: so threatening... His expression: so cruel, so vicious, so hateful... So...
The bile in Butara's stomach rose. The hair stood up on the back of her neck. She couldn't breath, she could hardly speak. Her face paled as fear seized her frame from head to toe. Those eyes... I know those brown eyes... Those horrifying brown eyes filled with pure evil!
Butara stared at Crassus, her own eyes widening to impossibly sized ovals. Her hands went to her mouth. She nearly screamed as recognition flooded into her mind, her soul, her very being. Knees trembling, she raised her hand and pointed a condemning finger at Crassus. "He is the man. It is his face I remember... His brown eyes...! He is the one who called himself 'Civis Romanus' and assaulted me!"
"Quiet woman!" bellowed Crassus. "You do not know what you are talking about!" His sword was free of its scabbard now and his hand gripped it firmly.
"I know you!" Butara cried out. "I cannot forget you... The look of your face... The brown of your eyes. You did this. You were the Roman who ruined me... Not this other man!" She turned to the other Parthians. "Look at his face! At the mark I put there with my nails when he... when he... YOU ARE THE ANIMAL WHO HURT ME!" Again she pointed her accusing finger at Crassus. The scar on his face whitened as his face contorted in anger.
King Vologezes voice rang out. He had no other choice than to speak these words. "Crassus of Roma, you are accused by the Lady Butara. Who vouches for you?" Nobody responded. Not a single Roman, Parthian... nobody. "Seize him!" Guards left their posts to do as commanded.
Crassus did the unexpected. Leaping from his position he seized Butara and placed his sword to her throat. "Move closer and she dies!" Crassus warned.
"Release her!" cried out Vologezes. Crassus merely laughed. "I will not! Important to the Parthian Kingdom is she? Then let me pass!"
In pain, but lucid; the hated stench of Crassus in her nostrils, Butara gathered up every ounce of courage she possessed. "Kill him, Parthians!" she pleaded. "I am dead already..."
A new voice responded. It was firm, determined, unwavering in its intent. "No Butara, this is no longer a Parthian matter... This is a Roman matter... Release her, Crassus. You will face me one way or another now... There is no need to harm her again... I am the one you hate... Me... Nobody else... I am the one who saw you humiliated. I am the one who cast you out of the Empire. I am the one who makes each day of your life unbearably painful. I am the one you hate, Crassus. I am the one you pursue. You know my name. Shall I say it for you? Civis Romanus, Crassus. Say it again? Of course... Civis Romanus... Civis Romanus... CIVIS ROMANUS!"
Crassus felt the hate well up from the pit of his merciless soul, rise to his shoulders, to his neck, his face and explode in his head. He bellowed the cry of a predatory animal and in one swift move threw Butara from his grip causing the woman to fall heavily onto the floor at Dania's feet. She lay there stunned by the impact. Dania reached down to comfort her. His Parthian guards were entranced by the brewing battle and paid them both no attention.
Smart move... He's hunting you and you have no weapon, thought Civis. A voice cried out momentarily distracting him. "Civis - your sword!" the Parthian Captain yelled as he threw Civis's gladius towards the weaponless Roman. Civis reached up to grab the weapon just as Crassus bellowed once more and charged. Civis' gladius fell to the floor of the hall.
Without sword, Civis could do only one thing. He tried to dodge the swinging sword wielded by Crassus. He succeeded in avoiding its blow, but did not succeed in avoiding Crassus. Thrown off balance by the missed swing at Civis, Crassus crashed into his dodging opponent causing both to fall onto the floor. Crassus' sword fell from his hand and clattered metalically on the stone of the floor, sliding along the stone to a place away and opposite of where Civis' sword lay, both weapons out of the immediate reach of the two combatants. It was Crassus who struck first...
He seized the prostrate Civis by the upper and lower edges of his breastplate, lifted him and threw him to the floor. Civis' nearly had the breath knocked out of him when he hit the stone of the floor. Crassus was on him again, the legionnaire's ham fists attempting to close around Civis' throat. Civis felt the digging fingers of Crassus hand close about his neck. He felt the constriction, the ever tightening grip. His own breathing became increasingly labored. He would be unconscious if he didn't act soon.
Civis grasped each of Crassus' wrists with his own hands. He countered the pressure by using all of his remaining strength to pull Crassus hands away from his throat. Slowly Crassus' grip loosened... slowly he pulled the legionnaire's hands apart. Then Civis gambled. In the quickest move he could muster, Civis released his own left hand from Crassus wrist, balled the hand into a fist and slammed it into Crassus' face... once, twice, three times.
The third blow whipped Crassus' head backwards and both hands released Civis' throat. Civis balled his right hand and slammed it into the other side of Crassus face even as the legionnaire tried to return to the attack. This blow knocked Crassus completely off Civis. Somewhat shakily, Civis forced himself to his feet, then looked hurriedly for his sword. There... on the floor. Civis staggered to its location as quickly as he could, picked it up and turned just in time to see Crassus, blood flowing down his face, do the same. Both now armed, they faced each other once more.
But Crassus wasn't ready to charge. Instead he tried a new ploy. "You die today, Romanus. You must... I have work to do and you're in my way... The Parthians don't care... Their King pays me well to do his bidding." (Vologezes face reddened immediately).
Crassus feinted to the right. Civis countered, but did not close the distance between them. Crassus laughed, his free hand wiped blood away from his battered face. "You made me pretty today. Nicely done. My pretty face... There are pretty faces all around you, Romanus... Look at them... (Civis refused to fall for the ploy) At home in your villa too, I am told. You think Butara was my first? Not hardly..."
Crassus took a step forward. Civis involuntarily backed up. A sign of fear or weakness, thought Crassus. The legionnaire pressed what he thought was his advantage. Disrupt his discipline, make emotion destroy Civis. Crassus continued his taunt. "Yes, indeed. I am told there is a daughter, Apollonia. A wife... Apolita? Yes, that's her name... Beautiful Apolita... No matter where they go, I'll find them, Romanus. I'll never stop the hunt till their names are added to my list. You know what list I mean... Butara does..."
Emotion clawed at Civis. His self-control was stretched by this man like no other before. Swordsman, I must think like a swordsman, he silently screamed at himself. The years of training... it's now they must take hold and hold firmly. Control... Control... Control!
Civis drew in a deep breath and struggled to bring order to his tortured mind. Draw him in. Make him charge. Counter and strike back. "I find you to be the same cowardly weakling as before, Crassus. Striking at women when any lone man puts you down. You are not to be feared... just pitied. Defeated by Civis Romanus... Is that your claim to fame? They laugh at you, Crassus; but you do not hear. You deafen yourself with your own, solitary, self-praise. Poor Crassus, once, twice, thrice a loser... to Civis Romanus. You... make... me... laugh."
So saying, Civis deliberately dropped his guard. He saw anger well up in Crassus's face once more. Crassus, in his fury, saw the opening and charged. Sword met sword in the center of the Hall, the clang of metal echoing off of every wall with every blow.
[This message has been edited by Civis Romanus (edited 09-19-2001 @ 10:58 PM).]