A ringing came. The world quieted, filled only with that ringing. Maximus lifted a hand to his ear, feeling the bit of blood that dribbled. Noise slowly returned, though he couldn't quite make out what it was for a moment, too busy trying to clear the stars from his vision.

“Hit him again!” he heard someone laugh. The fist hitting his face sent him to the ground.

A mistake, losing his footing. That was one of the first rules he'd been taught. You lose your footing, you're dead. That was proved now. The men began to kick him, beating and laughing as he curled up, trying to tuck his elbows over his head. He got lucky; the sound of the dinner bell quickly drew them away, leaving him there to recover.