CHAPTER ELEVEN
The clash of steel rang out with a vicious, ringing, clash of murderous intent. Decimus found himself facing two foes who pressed heavily upon him looking for a weakness in his defenses. The tribune's blade wove and dipped as he parried and countered every killing blow. Much to the surprise of the gladiators facing him—much to their chagrin—they realized they faced a foe who was well versed in the use of a sword. For indeed, twenty-five odd years soldiering across the known world had taught the old tribune well. Decimus Virilis moved in unpredictable patterns and did not only use his sword to fight. Occasionally a fist or a foot would come out and deliver a powerful blow on one foe or another. A blow strong enough to make the man grunt in pain and step back from the melee t
