..— Gdzie? — spytałaś natychmiast — mogę jechać z tobą?On jednak pokręcił głową i odpowiedział:— Nie chcę dłużej siedzieć w wios...e. Nie mam tu nic do roboty, poza tym, ojciec zostawił nam w banku w mieście trochę złota.— Co? — spytałaś zaskoczona — dlaczego nic nam nie powiedzieli? — spytałaś mając na myśli wujka z ciotką.— Nie wiedzieli. Wczoraj przyszedł list od banku. Słuchaj — powiedział kładąc ci dłonie na ramionach — spróbuję wyciągnąć to złoto, potem trochę pojeżdżę po świecie. Twojej. His father would see his son make an effort, hopefully a foolish one.His father had, for two years, been setting his son in fights against slaves, even a one-armed gladiator recently. The boy thought he was good. The problem was, he did not realise that the slaves were given a drink before the fight which was laced to slow their reactions, slow them, make them less good. If they’d won, they would have been executed anyway I suppose. But instead Grantus got the idea that he was a brilliant. More

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