Preview - Munera Chapter 3 (Patreon)

Lars’ head slammed into the wall, and his vision swam. Justinian stepped back, crossing his arms and shaking his head.

“Pathetic,” he said. “You’re not trying.”

“Yeah, strangely enough, slave labour isn’t exactly the most motivated kind,” replied Lars, rubbing his head.

“Well,” sniffed Justinian, “you’ll be plenty motivated when it’s your life on the line, won’t you?”

It had been a long night and a long day. Any hope Justinian would go easy on Lars had vanished after his all-too-brief sleep, and he had spent the entire time since having, for lack of a better word, the shit kicked out of him. He’d fought he was pretty good at fighting these days, but Justinian had a practiced expertise to him, able to block and counter every move Lars made against him.

He wondered why Aurelian wasn’t sending him into the arena.

Justinian was just squaring up for another bout when there was a knock at the rusty steel door.

“Feed him,” a gruff voice demanded. “He goes out in an hour.”

Justinian winced and nodded, walking over to the door. It creaked open for just a second, and a small can was passed through by a gloved hand. Justinian turned to him, the door slamming shut behind him, and tossed the new gladiator the can.

“Huh,” Lars looked at the lid. “Looks a lot like the soup cans at home. This soup?”

“Well, not exactly, it’s…”

Lars opened the can, and an utterly foul odour filled his nostrils. He gagged, his eyes watering; if a smell could combine the scents of sweat, cattle and petrol, this would be it. Inside, he could see soft lumps floating in a foul, thick brown liquid. His stomach leapt.

“...elixir of Sej’jar,” finished Justinian. “You do not want to know what Sej’jar is.”

“Is it - hack! - an animal?”

“You. Do not. Want. To know.”