LITMIR.BIZ

       PROLOGUE

      Mérida (Hispania), 72 AD

      The executioner draws his sharpened dagger across the convict’s belly, slicing it open with a single cut. A torrent of blood gushes out, like water breaking through the walls of a dyke. The man screams in agony as his guts spill like skinned snakes down to his knees. Then the birdmen come, their eagles balanced on their leather armguards. The birds’ sharp beaks take great, greedy bites of the man’s exposed liver. The three other men, lashed to wooden stakes and doomed to the same fate, struggle hopelessly to escape.

      The audience is ecstatic. This amphitheatre, built during the reign of Caesar Augustus, is big enough to hold sixteen thousand. Today, every single seat of its three tiers is occupied.

      After the venatio, the staged hunt of exotic beasts, comes the spectacle of public executions. During today’s underwhelming opening act, in which a few criminals were merely beheaded, many took the opportunity to relieve themselves in the catacomb latrines.

      The executions are inspired by stories from ancient Greece and the public appreciates the creativity with which they are carried out. After the eagles have eaten their fill of entrails and the four men have died – as in the tale of Prometheus – four wooden ramps are wheeled into the arena. In the middle of each ramp is an enormous boulder. Convicts are brought out to recreate the Sisyphean task of rolling the rocks to the top of the ramps, a feat which they naturally all fail to accomplish. The sound of their breaking bones travels all the way up to the third tier.

      Another group of men is sent into the sweltering arena. They have gone without food and drink for days and must now attempt to reach the bread and jugs of water that dangle from the stands on long poles. To the crowd’s delight, just before they grasp them, the poles are raised high above their heads, making the bread and water as unreachable as they were for Tantalus. When the public’s attention begins to wane, starved dogs are released to rip the men apart.

      Now, eight men covered in oil and pitch are brought into the ring and tied to stakes. Roman boys, none of them a day over twelve, shoot flaming arrows at the prisoners until they eventually begin to burn. The men scream as they meet their fiery end and a murmur of approval rumbles around the amphitheatre. This may not have been inspired by a Greek story, but it is a novelty that has never been seen before.

      A late arrival makes his way to the stands and looks for a seat on the end of one of the benches. He is small, and his legs are crooked, but he looks sturdy, with eyebrows that meet above a long nose. He is a charismatic man and he radiates the serenity of an angel. A brief look at the young man who is already sitting on the end of the bench is all that is needed to create space. He takes his seat and sets his small earthenware jug on the ground next to his feet.

      While the dead criminals are dragged from the arena and the patches of blood are covered with fresh sand, musicians and fools do their best to entertain the public with acrobatic antics. The crowd cheers as dozens of boys and girls enter the stands carrying huge baskets of bread between them. The distribution of bread at the games began two years ago in Rome and was so popular among the commoners that the practice rapidly spread to every corner of the Empire. The boys and girls walk up the steps, throwing hunks of bread into the crowds. A forest of arms reaches up to meet them where they land. Once caught, the bread is swiftly tucked beneath cloaks, leaving hands free to snatch another piece.

      ‘Panem

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