“Look at that! Have you any idea how long it will take to get an edge back on it? No, of course you haven’t. You’re just a stupid little fool who thinks he can steal anything he wants.”

Octavian’s eyes filled with tears. He wanted nothing more in the world than to have the old gladiator approve of him, and the disappointment was worse than pain.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to borrow it. I’ll sharpen it so you can’t see the marks!”

Tubruk looked again at the blade. “What did you do, smash it deliberately? That can’t be sharpened. It needs to be completely reground, or better still, thrown away for scrap. I’ve carried that sword through bouts in the gladiator ring and three wars, and all that is undone by one thoughtless hour with a boy who can’t keep his hands away from other people’s belongings. You’ve gone too far this time, I swear it.”

Too furious to speak further, Tubruk threw the sword onto the ground and let go of the snivelling child, storming out of the stables and leaving him alone with his misery.

Octavian picked up the weapon and ran his thumb over the edge, which had been folded right over in some places. He thought if he could find a good sharpening stone and disappear from the estate for a few hours, by the time he returned Tubruk would have calmed down and he could give him the sword back. A vision of the old gladiator’s surprise as Octavian handed him the restored blade came into his mind.

“I thought it couldn’t be done!” he imagined Tubruk saying as he examined the new edge. Octavian thought he might not say anything then, but simply assume a humble expression until Tubruk ruffled his hair, the incident forgotten.

The daydream was interrupted by Tubruk’s return, and Octavian dropped the sword in fear as he saw the old gladiator had a heavy leather strap in one hand.

“No! I said I was sorry! I’ll fix the sword, I promise,” Octavian bawled, but Tubruk kept a fierce silence as he dragged him out of the stables into the sunlight. The little boy struggled hopelessly as he was pulled across the courtyard, but the hand that held him was rigid with an adult strength he couldn’t break, for all the growing he’d done.

Tubruk heaved open the main gate with the hand that held the strap, grunting with the effort.

“I should have done this a long time ago. There’s the road back to the city. I suggest you take it and make sure I don’t lay eyes on you again. If you stay here, I am going to beat your backside until you know better. What’s the word? Leave or stay?”