“Perhaps the Imperial Prince has taken his father’s directive regarding utterances too literally and has ignored her poisonous speech,” he conjectured. “Or more likely she just keeps her tongue in check when in his presence.” Tiberius frowned in contemplation and shrugged.
“Well if that little bitch or her friends do overextend their forked tongues, I would like to know about it.”
“You will,” Sejanus replied, beaming inside, “you have my word, Caesar.”
One afternoon following their workouts, Artorius decided to see what else the gymnasium had to offer. He strolled into one of the back rooms, where what sounded like men grunting and striking each other could be heard. He looked inside and saw what he thought was a boxing match. Two men were squaring off, throwing jabs at each other. Artorius was surprised to see one man throw a side kick to his opponent’s body. At that instant the other grabbed the leg with his outside arm and lunged in to take out the kicker’s other leg. The men were now on the ground in what had morphed into a wrestling match. Artorius was then shocked to witness the man on top smashing his elbow into the other man’s face and head. He then spun around and grabbed his opponent’s ankle. The combatant on the bottom immediately started yelling in pain and slapping the mat with his hand as fast as he could. He was quickly let go of, and his adversary then helped him to his feet.
“Well done,” a voice said from just off the mats. Artorius looked over to see a lean and well-muscled Greek wearing nothing but a loin cloth, his hands clasped behind his back. A number of other men stood on either side of him, most sweating profusely, with more than a few scrapes and bruises amongst them. Artorius was surprised to see Camillus, sporting a rather nasty-looking black eye.
“That is enough for the day,” the Greek continued. “Remember what we went over regarding submissions and strikes from the top position.” He then clasped the hand of each of his students as they left. Artorius overheard them calling him Master Delios. The name Delios sounded familiar to him, but he was not sure from where. Then it dawned on him. He remembered where he knew the name from, and he also realized what it was he had witnessed.
“Artorius, good to see you,” Camillus remarked as he walked out of the room.
“Camillus,” Artorius acknowledged. “Nice mark you got there. I would hate to see what the other guy looked like!”
“Yeah, his hand did take quite a beating,” Camillus laughed.
“And strangely enough, Camillus won that match,” another man remarked, smacking the Signifier on the shoulder.
“I grew tired of getting hit, so I choked him out,” he replied with a casual shrug. Once the men had left, Artorius walked over to the instructor, who was wiping his face off with a towel.
“That was quite the display,” Artorius said. The Greek smiled at him.
“Romans love blood; they love spectacle,” he replied. “What they don’t love so much is the purity of man versus man combat; no tricks, no weapons. It is simply the skill of one man against another. You, on the other hand, look like one who has little use for spectacle.” Artorius folded his arms across his chest and nodded.
“Blood-letting for the simple purpose of blood-letting is pointless,” he remarked. “The mob loves blood. Whether it is from a gladiatorial fight, or a public execution; they always exhibit the same animalistic lust. I have no need for such things. I seek purity and strength through both the mind and body. It has been my passion in life to seek ultimate power. I know who you are; you are Delios, two-time winner of the Olympiad Pankration.”
“And I know you are,” Delios said with a smile. “You are Titus Artorius Justus, Legion Champion of the Twentieth Valeria and one of the most feared close-combat fighters ever to come from Rome. Yes, I do keep tabs on the more well-known legionaries in our community. But tell me; are you as skilled without your weapons as you are with them?”
“Perhaps you can tell me,” Artorius replied, a smile crossing his face. Delios returned it and set his towel down.
“Pankration is an ancient form of combat. It is a conglomeration of the words pan and kratos, and it literally means all power. When you face a man with your bare hands, when you seek to find pankration, it becomes the quest for ultimate power.” Artorius found himself utterly enthralled with what Delios was saying. He then realized that pankration was the perfect complement to his physical strength. Without another word being said, both men stepped onto the mat and faced each other.
Unarmed combat was a basic skill taught to all legionaries, though emphasis was placed on it being used as a last resort, and only until one could retrieve his weapons. Artorius knew that his training paled in comparison to what Delios had spent as a life study. Nevertheless, he settled into a fighting stance similar to that which he would with weapons. The most crucial difference was that he kept his hands up by his head in order to block against strikes. He had wrestled with bulls as a young man, and he knew that he held a dominating strength advantage over his opponent. He understood that Delios recognized this as well.
As both men advanced on each other, Delios started throwing rapid punches at Artorius. As blows bounced off his hands and forearms, Delios landed a hard kick to the outside of Artorius’ thigh. This caused Artorius to panic slightly and he shot in to take out Delios’ legs. This is exactly what the Greek expected. Artorius was surprised that Delios actually let him take him to the ground, where he wrapped his legs around the Roman’s waist; a move which isolated Artorius and hindered his movement. In spite of being immobilized, he proceeded to hammer his fist into the man’s side and head, all the while Delios remained calm, trying to get a grip on one of Artorius’ arms. Artorius realized what Delios was attempting, and immediately ceased in his blows. He found himself wrestling with the Greek, and strangely enough found that though on top he was on the defensive. The Greek was a master of leverage, something which negated an enormous amount of Artorius’ strength. As Delios started to pry one of the Roman’s arms loose, Artorius would drop his fist or elbow into his face. Delios then moved his head to one side, causing Artorius to drive his fist into the mat. With lightening reflexes, Delios let the other arm go and grabbed onto the one Artorius had punched with. He then wrapped both his legs around the arm as well, arching his back and driving Artorius onto his. The young Roman was shocked to find himself on his back, his arm stretched out in Delios’ grip. He felt his elbow joint start to hyperextend; his shoulder joint being pried apart as well. He started slapping his free hand onto the mat in the same manner the defeated combatant had earlier. Delios released his arm and both men stood up. Delios had fresh bruises on his face and his ribs were red and battered.
“You are incredibly strong,” Delios observed, “not to mention naturally talented. You have decent wrestling skills, and you are a respectable striker on the ground. However, you don’t seem to know the first thing about submissions, and your striking on the feet is rudimentary at best. Would you like to learn these skills, as well as others?”
“I would be honored,” Artorius replied with a nod. In truth he deeply respected this man. It was ironic that most Greeks were known for their art and philosophy. The warrior class of old Sparta was thought to be dead, especially after the combined Greek and Macedonian armies had been utterly routed by Rome more than two hundred years before. Many forgot the purity and masculine virtues portrayed in the games of the Olympiad. Physical contests such as wrestling and pankration were shunned by the average Romans in favor of sport that guaranteed a greater quantity of blood, if not skill.
It became routine for Artorius during their tenure in Lugdunum. When not performing his duties as a Legionary and Decanus, he could be found in the gymnasium, strengthening his body through the exertion of heavy lifting, or learning to better utilize and channel his strength through pankration. Delios became his mentor in much the same way that Vitruvius had been when he learned close-combat and weapons drill. In time he felt he would achieve all power. That spring the Cohort held two tournaments; one with weapons in similar fashion as the Legion Championship, and one in unarmed combat of pankration. Artorius elected not to take part in the weapons tournament, seeing as how he was the current Legion Champion and should only defend his title when the entire Legion was present. He was proud to watch as Magnus tore through the competition, becoming the champion for the Third Cohort. His friend had become a force to be reckoned with, and Artorius hoped that if any man did ever take his title from him, that it would be the Norseman.