Brigistopolis; sons

Tim nodded and slowly made his way to the lower level, where Jurgen stood. He was just in time to see how surprise turned into rage on the face of the warrior.
“Jurgen, you must do this now, you know what opportunities we have now,” he laid his hand on the tensed muscles of his opponents arm, who was ready to jump down into the arena to challenge the gladiator right there. “Be quiet, tomorrow you have enough time to let all your anger out. For now focus,” he leaned a bit over to him, “or when you prefer it, fight for you lovely fiancé. Come now with me” This had exactly the response he wanted then Jurgen seemed to calm down a bit and focus on what Tim just told him.
He turned around and made his way back to the king. In the mean time the king had moved to his private room in the arena and he waited together with Vespasianus for the two warriors to come in.

Tim leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms, seeing the old king pleased and their master worried. Vespasianus never was happy when he saw the slightest chance of loosing one of his fully trained gladiators. Maybe to lose a former champion, it did hurt the master deeply. His prize winning gladiators were more than his source of income, every single gladiator raised into a champion, Vespasianus saw them as his own sons. And especially the former champion he had enclosed in his heart then he never raised a warrior of that stature. He knew the current champion had luck the day he defeated te murmillo, and Tim grew every day, but he doubted if he would be ever of the level of Jurgen. Jurgen was a born warrior, like the Fire Gladiator. In the worst scenario his warrior would die tomorrow, and even if he should win, there was a chance he would come out of the match heavily or even deadly wounded.

“What a surprise this is,” the king smiled coldly and rubbed his hands in satisfaction. “Who did think of this, the son of the king of Dragonija, the Fire Gladiator,” he shook his head and then looked at Jurgen. “I hope you know what you have to do tomorrow, Roelandts. Then there depends a lot on this match. The future of a kingdom. The future of maybe two kingdoms,"
Vespasianus went out of the room without saying a word. He already grieved for the 'son' he hand't lost yet.

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