Waking in the cramped stone cell of Yuma prison, Ben Wade could hear the
man on the other cot coughing. He'd done that off and on last night, in
spite of the extra water he'd had. Ben had even given him part of his
own ration.
Ben turned on the hard, lumpy cot and yawned. You didn't get much sleep
in Yuma. And what little you did get wasn't restful. Ben couldn't
imagine spending longer than a couple of weeks in the place, which was
the longest stretch he'd ever done, due to his abilities at a variety of
things, including fast talking and picking locks.
He grinned to himself. Today, he'd start putting together his plan. He
wasn't quite sure how this crazy man who called himself Maximus fit into
things yet, but he was certain that, somehow, he would.
Maximus lay there, coughing, his throat still dry from going so long
without water. Another day was beginning. How long would Commodus leave
him here before
wanting him to fight in the arena again? He felt somewhat weakened from
days with lack of food and the inactivity inherent in being confined to
so small a space.
The other man yawned fairly loudly so he knew he'd awakened. Even for a
barbarian he was a strange person, spoke oddly of odd things.
As they waited for water and breakfast to arrive, Ben looked the other
man over. Once he had a little food in him and some of his strength
back, he could be a big asset in an escape plan. Provided he was
willing to kill to get out of here.
They'd go out to the yard later this morning, Ben knew. The warden of
Yuma wasn't much on being humane to his prisoners, but the man liked to
keep to a schedule. Eying Maximus, Ben asked cautiously, "You been out
to the yard here yet?"
"The gladiator practice yard? I have not been there for a number of days
now. I have no idea how many."
Ben grunted. "If you'd been out there, friend, you'd 'member. What I'm
tryin' to figger right now's how to get hold of a pair 'a pants. That
there skirt ain't gonna go over in the yard at Yuma."
"Pants? You are suggesting I need leggings? It is not winter and this is
all slaves are given to wear no matter."
"You ain't no slave here, Maximus. An' even slaves get pants." Ben had
never had the need to get hold of a pair of pants in Yuma, and he hadn't
yet come up with a way to get them.
"You go out to the yard like that an' you don' have to worry 'bout bein'
no slave. Jus' bein' made somebody's whore."
Maximus sighed. "You know I have no idea what you are talking about, ben
Wade. Everyone but you has on this same tunic."
Now it was Ben's turn to sigh. "I'm talkin' 'bout-" He almost tried to
explain it, but gave up when he heard the guard, Luke, start
distributing the food. Thin and runny oatmeal that didn't much stick to
a man's ribs. Ben's favorite breakfast was bacon and eggs and, when he
was on the trail and couldn't get that, nice fresh rabbit. He hated
oatmeal. But he was going to need his strength.
He managed to arrange a double portion for Maximus again, knowing the
man was still weak from hunger. Luke huffed about it, but not much,
which made Ben smile. Fear was the most powerful motivator he knew.
As they ate their breakfast, he asked Maximus quietly. "You up for
fightin' much, if you have to?"
"If I have to fight, I am ready, but is there some need arising?" He
had finished his food, grateful for it despite its soupy nature, and was
studying ben Wade's
face, trying to piece together some reason for what the man might mean.
"You are thinking we may be sent into the arena today?"
"We'll be goin' out to the yard," Ben said shortly. "An' it's liable to
turn into an arena for fightin', if we don't-" He trailed off, still
looking at the tunic Maximus wore.
When Luke came to collect the bowls, Ben looked him coldly in the eye.
"Tell Jimmy I wanna see him."
An uneasy look quickly took over the man's face. "Jimmy! The boss man
don't like to have to come down here, Wade. You know that. He'll git
mad at me, iffen I mention it to him."
Ben maintained his hard look. "An' I'll get mad at you if you don't.
Which one a' us you reckon you'd rather have mad at you, Luke?"
Muttering, the guard moved off. Ben knew he'd deliver the message.
With a glance at Maximus, he said, "We're gonna find out just how long
you've been here."
"I should like to know that. It was a different cell in the beginning,
however. It had a wooden door, no cots. I have no memory of being moved
to this one."
"Just what IS the last thing you 'member?"
"I was sitting alone on a dirt floor. No cots, no bars, just rough stone
walls, thick wooden door. There was a rat, maybe two. I was hungry,
thirsty, especially
thirsty. I either went to sleep or...I don't know. I woke up here."
"Sounds worse'n Yuma," Ben commented laconically, upon hearing there
were not even cots.
"What is 'Yuma', ben Wade? The word holds no meaning for me."
The look Ben cast toward Maximus was both incredulous and suspicious.
"Yuma Prison. It's where you're at right now, friend. This pleasure
palace you see all aroun' you." He gave a sarcastic grin.
Maximus shook his head. "I have never heard of
Yuma Prison. Is this some new area Commodus has had
constructed? It is unlike anything I have seen before."
"Who the hell's this 'Commodus'?" Ben wanted to know, thinking to
himself that his own cellmate was unlike anything he'd ever seen
before. And he'd seen plenty.
"You must know. Surely, you know, ben Wade? It is not possible to be
where we are and not know who Commodus is."
Ben sighed, frustrated. The man was not gonna believe him if he tried
to tell him he was in Arizona. Hell, he prob'ly didn't even know what
Arizona was! Finally, he heard heavy footsteps and grumbling heading
toward their cell. Jimmy.
Glancing at Maximus, he said, "Mebbe now we can find out somethin'
useful."
"I should like that, ben Wade. There seems to be much I do not
understand." Foremost among that was how he'd been in one cell and
suddenly found himself
in an entirely different one with no memory of the transfer or
explanation for the differences in the character of the construct of the
place.