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He sat in is cell for a day. The doctors had tended his minor wounds with bandages. He could smell the wine gone stale. He tinkered with the chains that tied his shackles to the stone wall behind him. It was pitch dark with a faint candle glow coming from outside the cell.
Aside from the stale wine from his bandages, he could smell the rot of humanity. Unwashed sweat, dried blood, waste. Where the chains bound to the stone wall, he could see the dried blood and scratches from where somebody tried to claw the chains loose.
This was the second time he had been taken prisoner by invaders. He had never been so far from home. Never so far south and in another continent.
He could hear a voice from outside, "You're Edric aren't you?"
"Edric?"
"You were announced as Edric at the arena." The voice said.
"That's not my name-"
"Nobody cares what your name was, least of all your new owners." The voice interrupted. It was a mans voice but it had none of the haughtiness of nobility nor the pride of the guards. He sounded defeated, miserable; another prisoner.
Edric crawled toward the bars. "Who are you?"
"Decius" The voice said. "My real name too. The debt collectors got a hold of me."
"Debt collectors?" Edric asked.
"Not nearly as famous as you. The barbarian from the north who rampaged Horeb territory.”
“That was not Horeb territory.” Edric fumed. “It belonged to the tribes of Acamas. People of whom I was pressed into service with.”
“It doesn't matter. You drove the crowd wild in the arena.” Decius said. “They know you as a wild and foreign beast who tore through hardened gladiators like paper. I know the truth. They were fresh from the schools. It matters not. You fought like I expected. A savage against fresh gladiators.”
“So now what?” Edric probed somewhat irritated. “You seem to know much for a prisoner.”
“As I said; Debt Collectors. I am local and familiar with the games. If not for my debt, I would have cheered you on and happily awaited your death at the next games. Of course my gambling got me in this mess.”
“Maybe I would have proved you wrong and sent you here with your losing bet anyway.” Edric said.
“You jest but you were sentenced to die like an animal in the arena.” Decius said. “The love of the crowd can often give pardon. Now we all are to be sold to the schools to be trained as gladiators; most likely to die in the school anyway.”

The smell of the stale wine is coming from his bandages. They soaked the bandages in wine to keep the wounds clean. If this isn't where the confusion is coming from then I don't understand the problem with the sentence.
"The Barbarian From the North Who Rampaged Horeb Territory" is not a title, just a description that the other prisoner had used. "That's the barbarian from the north who rampaged Horeb territory." Even though he was one of the people who stood out in the captor's minds as someone of importance, I didn't consider it a title.

Thanks for the notes. I tend to lose focus on the mechanics and it's important to have people point these issues out.

This is a great start to a good story. In my own mind, I pictured this going into a novella or even a novel and all the flashbacks of what happened to land him there.

I think maybe you could add a little bit more description of say.. the battle, or the people in the cell. But that's just me.

I think you captured the language of this era pretty well. It's almost half old half new.

Well written smile