A Gladiator’s Oath

Who has not seen the dummies of wood they slash at and batter
Whether with swords or with spears, going through all the moves?
These are the girls who blast on trumpets in honour of Flora.
Or, it may be, they have deeper designs, and are really preparing for the arena itself.
How can a woman be decent, sticking her head in a helmet, denying her sex she was born with?
Manly feats they adore, but they wouldn’t want to be men,
Poor weak things (they think), how little they really enjoy it!
What great honour it is for a husband to see, at an auction
Where his wife’s effects are up for sale, belts, greaves, manica and plumes!
Hear her grunt and groan as she works at it, parrying, thrusting;
See her neck bent down under the weight of her helmet.
Look at the rolls of bandage and tape, so her legs look like tree trunks.
Then have a laugh for yourself after the practice is over,
Armour and weapons are put down, and she squats as she uses the vessel.
Ah, degenerate girls of the line of our praetors and consuls,
Tell us, whom have you seen got up in any such fashion,
Panting and sweating like this? No gladiators wench,
No tough strip-tease broad would ever so much as attempt it.

— from the Satires of Juvenal

 There is not a great deal recorded about female gladiators. While evidence points to them first appearing under Augustus, Augustan authors don’t even make reference to them. One theory for this is that the early women fighters were likely from lower-socio economic groups—slaves—and would not have been considered worthy of inclusion.

As you may have guessed from the above poem, many frowned upon women participating in public games, even more so in later times when high-born women took to the arena, seeking independence, fame or financial reward. These women may have sacrificed their respectability the moment they entered the arena, but there is evidence to suggest they were honoured as highly as the men.

A few years ago I read The Forgotten Rebels of Eureka by Claire Wright, and I’m ashamed to admit it’s the first time I noticed the gaping holes in history where women should be. I love that there are so many historical writers now giving these women voices—the louder the better I say.

When I first got the idea for A Gladiator’s Oath, I considered leaving the topic alone, letting a more qualified person tackle it. But then I thought, who says a romance author can’t write about female gladiators? I love writing action and fighting scenes. Who says I can’t breathe life and love into that dark, violent part of history? Well, probably a lot of people, including my sensible side who said, ‘That’s not smart business. It’s too niche, no one will read it.’ ‘Shush,’ replied my creative side, ‘You’ve pretty much established yourself as a genre misfit. What’s one more hybrid series?’

My creative side makes a solid point.

Now you are probably trying to figure out how a romance author can succeed at her job amid all that brutality. Well, it can be done. A Gladiator’s Oath is not all battles and bloodshed. It’s a story with soul. It’s a story about freedom, family and survival—a story with warm characters, witty dialogue and a dwarf who won my heart in draft one and will remain a solid imaginary friend when I move on to the next book. It’s a love story.

If you haven’t hopped on over to my Facebook page yet, now is the time. Along with all my usual lame humour, in the coming weeks I’ll be sharing quirky gladiator facts, introducing the cast and posting teasers in the lead up to the release.

I hope to see you there x