Gladiator: Street Fighter (2012)
“The cloak Marcus had chosen from those heaped in the kitchen slop chest was the least rancid one he could find. Even so, it stank of sweat and he’d taken care to push the hood well back, deciding he would only wear that if he absolutely had to. The other men wore a mixture of tunics and cloaks that indicated their status. The slaves were dressed as drably as Marcus, while Festus, a freedman, wore a clean red tunic and brown cape, as did the men he had hired to act as Caesar’s personal bodyguard...s. Marcus noted their hard expressions, weathered faces and thick muscled arms and guessed that they must be gladiators or former legionaries, like his father.
But he wasn’t my father, Marcus reminded himself. He thrust memories of Titus aside, together with the grief in his heart. He must be strong. He must not give in to feelings. He could not be weak if he wanted to save his mother. Only the ruthless training he’d received at Porcino’s gladiator school mattered now.
‘Here, boy, take this.’ Marcus looked up to see Festus holding out a thick stave.MoreLess
But he wasn’t my father, Marcus reminded himself. He thrust memories of Titus aside, together with the grief in his heart. He must be strong. He must not give in to feelings. He could not be weak if he wanted to save his mother. Only the ruthless training he’d received at Porcino’s gladiator school mattered now.
‘Here, boy, take this.’ Marcus looked up to see Festus holding out a thick stave.MoreLess
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