Gladiator Heart (12 page)

She was an angel.

She was the damn devil.

He fell into a deep, exhausted sleep, knowing he could worry about it all tomorrow.

It was on the afternoon of the second day into their journey to Rome that Valeria learned exactly what it meant to be a slave.

The weather was starting to improve as they continued south, the sun was warmer and the winds less cold. Valeria could no longer ride in the supply wagon. The wooden seat was hard and uncomfortable and she was jostled around so much she felt her teeth were coming loose. Remembering the night before, knowing Tristan and the others were getting no water, she pulled a skin of water from her pile of things in the back of the wagon and jumped down to the ground. The young soldier driving seemed used to her wandering off by now because he didn’t even give her a second glance.

She walked slowly, letting the back of the detail catch up to her. What she saw made her furious with rage. A soldier rode alongside the line of prisoners, prancing around on his horse, hurling insults at them.

“Walk faster! Can’t you keep up with soldiers of Rome?”

None of the prisoners gave him a response. They all kept their eyes forward as they were led along behind the last wagon, their shackles jangling. Valeria’s eyes landed first on Tristan. Her handsome captor was now the slave. It was hard to see him reduced to such a lowly position, when only a couple of days ago he’d been a free man and commander of a great army. Her beautiful lover. He walked in the middle of the line, and towards the end she recognized Angus. It was hard not to feel pity for these men, but they had chosen a life of war, and this is what it looked like.

“Do you think we’d give you water when you haven’t earned it?” The soldier continued to ridicule them. “A bunch of lazy curs, the whole lot of you.”

Valeria now recognized the young soldier. His mother was a frequent customer of Lucia’s and bought many medicines from her, and young Titus was a spineless, sniveling wimp. He’d picked on Valeria once as a child and she’d fought back and pushed him to the ground, just like Rufus had taught her to do. Titus flew home in tears, crying because a girl had beaten him down.

From the safety of his horse, with these men in chains, Titus could act brave, but she’d like to see him on even ground with any of Tristan’s men. They’d tear him to shreds with their bare hands.

Titus tilted his head back and squeezed a rush of water from a leather skin so it flooded his mouth and spilled down the sides of his face. He swirled the water around in his mouth, then leaned forward and spit it out on the ground.

“It’s not that we don’t have enough water for a bunch of dirty slaves,” he kept on taunting the prisoners, “it’s that we don’t think you’re worth enough to spare even a drop.”

“You’d rather spit it on the ground, is that it?” Valeria could watch no more of this horrible treatment. “Perhaps our abundance of water is wasted on you, Centurion.”

Titus sat up in his saddle, straightening his spine. “You have no business back here.”

“I have business when and where I choose to have business, Centurion, or have you forgotten your place?” Sometimes it was good to be related to the Emperor.

“You’re not to interfere with the p-p-prisoners,” Titus stammered.

Valeria couldn’t help but laugh at him. “All grown up, but you still whine like a little boy.”

“I’ll—I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Valeria raised a curious brow. “Go running home to your mommy? I knocked you in the dirt once, Titus Drusus, and I’ll bet I can do it again.”

Some of the other soldiers walking on foot wore startled expressions, their eyes wide as they exchanged interested glances amongst each other. These men were not used to being insulted by a woman.

“I am in charge of these slaves, lady!” Titus yelled, apparently able to find his voice when he was flaunting his importance. “You have no understanding of my position, nor how they need to be trained.”

“These men are dying of thirst and you would taunt them? Is this the training you speak of?” Valeria was losing control of her temper. She’d been holding in her anger for days and Titus had provoked her to the point of no return.

“I suggest you go back to your wagon and let me perform my duties.”

“Your duties?” She huffed. “You seem to take great pleasure in these
duties
. Does your mother know how you behave outside of Rome?”

“Lady, you try my patience!” Titus bellowed, his face red and enraged. “If you don’t leave, I’ll have you flogged!”

“Go ahead and try it.” Rufus wandered up on his horse, his arms draped casually across the pommel of his saddle. He stared a dark warning at Titus across the line of prisoners. “You’ll have to go through me first.”

“You of all men should understand I have a duty to fulfill,” Titus said.

“I do.” Rufus nodded thoughtfully, then looked down at Valeria. “Get back in the wagon.”

The young soldier sat taller in his saddle, relishing his victory over her. Valeria was determined not to back down.

“No.”

Rufus frowned at her, giving her that look—the one that meant
don’t argue with me
. He was just as bad as the rest of them. But she needed his protection.

“Is there a problem here?” The Legatus now rode up on his magnificent white stallion. The etched leather saddle showed he was a man of great importance. It had to be worth more than all the horses in their detail.

“Yes, Legatus,” Titus jumped at the opportunity to speak first. “The young lady is interfering with the prisoners.”

The Legatus stiffened in his saddle, his face twisting with an ugly frown. He turned a look that was pure hostility on Valeria. “You are a lady of Rome,” he accentuated each word with loathing. “Get back in the wagon and try to maintain your decorum.”

“No,” she refused. “The wagon is uncomfortable and I no longer wish to ride in it. I demand a horse.” She kicked up her chin, knowing the Legatus would not give her one, but she liked irritating him.

“You’ll get no horse.”

“Then I’ll walk.” She moved along beside the prisoners.

“That you shall.” The Legatus tugged at his horse’s reins, making the great steed prance sideways in an arrogant display. “Walk with your beloved slaves. We’ll see how long you last.” He trotted off back to the front of the detail.

“What has gotten into you?” Rufus brought his horse alongside Valeria as she stubbornly began to walk. “What will people say if they hear of your behavior? What will the Emperor say?”

Everything inside of her snapped in that moment. She was sick and tired of being bossed around and ordered about and worrying what people would say.

When did she get to have her say?

“Leave me be, Rufus.” She kept facing forward and paid him no further attention.

His silence, though welcome, made her feel guilty for berating him. He didn’t deserve such poor treatment. She dared a glance at him. He looked frustrated, as he rubbed his hand over his shaved head a few times, then dragged it over the back of his neck.

“What am I to do with you?”

“There’s nothing to do with me,” she said. “I don’t need you to hold my hand.”

“Very well.” He tapped his horse and galloped away.

Walking along with Tristan and his men was not as easy as she assumed it would be. The soldiers kept them moving at a steady pace, once in a while bringing the whip down on their backs and barking at them to move faster. She tried to catch Tristan’s eye, but for some reason he was ignoring her, and his men only sent her hateful stares.

The occasional cracking sound of the whip no longer startled her as the day turned to evening. Soldiers carried lit torches to brighten the darkness while the detail pushed on, but the prisoners walked in the dark. Many times they tripped and fell, and if one of their fellow men didn’t pick them up off the ground, they’d be whipped as they were dragged along until they staggered to their feet.

Valeria watched everything that was done to them. It was an awakening experience to witness first-hand how badly the Romans treated these people. Her mind burned with the memory of how well Tristan had treated her when she’d been at his mercy. He’d spared her the degradations he now suffered. He’d been fair and compassionate to her, feeding her, giving her warmth and shelter, making mad, passionate love to her. A part of her had enjoyed being his prisoner, and after the corrupt behavior she’d seen from her own countrymen, Valeria was ashamed to call herself Roman.

With all the walking, she had developed blisters on her feet. She must have walked for miles by now, but seeing what the prisoners suffered, she was determined to bear the nuisance of having sore feet. At least she wore shoes. How horribly must their bare feet ache when they were marched over stones and pebbles and dragged along in the dirt?

Rufus rode up alongside her carrying a burning torch in his hand. She wouldn’t look at him. She was too proud to see him gloating or admit he was right.

“Come away now, Domina,” he pleaded, keeping his voice soft and quiet. “You should have something to eat.”

“I’ll eat when they eat.” She kept her eyes forward, a sudden pique of rage giving her renewed strength to keep on walking.

Rufus heaved a sigh. “They won’t be eating.”

“Then bring me more water.” She tossed her empty water skin to him.

“How long do you intend to keep this up?”

“As long as I feel like it.”

“Gods, I’d like to beat the bluster right out of you.”

Valeria gasped and shot him a look. He wouldn’t dare.

“We’ll be stopping for the night soon. I’ll be back for you then.” With a nudge to his horse, he galloped away.

Her weariness started to catch up with her when she thought of taking a rest and eating something. Her pride had pushed her to keep walking longer than she should have, but if Tristan and his men could do it under the whip, so could she, watching everything. It was quite an education indeed.

The last person she wanted to see riding up to her on his great black horse was Gaius. From the smug look on his face she could tell he prided himself on his good looks. His skin was bronzed by the Roman sun and he had the typical square jaw her people were known for. His thick, blond hair curled over his forehead like he’d trained it to that action naturally. Pretty on the outside, and ugly on the inside. Valeria hoped he’d keep riding past her.

“Still walking?” A light trace of humor infused his voice and he slowed his horse to walk beside her.

“It would appear so,” she answered flatly, keeping her eyes on the road ahead.

“You must be exhausted, my dear. Why don’t you give this up and ride with me for a while?”

Valeria grated her teeth. She’d rather crawl on her hands and knees before she’d do anything with the likes of Gaius Cato. “I’m fine where I am.”

“Nonsense,” Gaius scoffed, guiding his horse closer to her. “Give me your hand.”

He leaned down and extended his hand, waiting for her to take it so he could help her onto his horse. Valeria ignored him and kept walking. Gaius sat back in his saddle, fighting to rein in his anger at her blatant show of disrespect, for when crossed, his temper could be almost uncontrollable.

“Perhaps Rufus was right,” he drawled with distinct mockery. “You need a good walloping, and a husband to give it to you.”

He’d teach her never to disrespect him. Just like a wild horse, she too, needed to be broken.

“How dare you!” She stopped walking to stare up at him, clearly shocked by his words.

Gaius leaned down and grabbed her, holding her tight as he dragged her up on his horse and settled her into his lap. Feeling the softness of her body stirred his arousal and he couldn’t wait for the day when he could claim this divine creature. She struggled and slapped at him while trying to slide off his lap, but he paid no mind to her efforts and circled his arms around her in a tight hold to keep her seated and pressed close to him. He could imagine how good she would feel when he held her down and got between her legs. He’d like to do it this very moment.

“Put. Me. Down.” Her tone was imperious and commanding.

Gaius disregarded her demand. No one gave him orders.

“You may not realize it yet, but you’ll learn I know what’s best for you.” He purposely brushed his lips over her ear in a sensual manner, wanting to give her a glimpse of the delights he could share with her. “A firm hand will keep you in your place.”

Gaius tightened his arms around her to emphasize his point and continued to caress her ear with his lips.

Valeria brushed him off with a toss of her shoulder. What gave him the right to act this way? Not once had she given any sign or indication that she desired his attentions. The man was either very stupid, or very dangerous.

“Come now, let’s get along.” His tone was pleasant and polite, although he squeezed his arms tighter around her and shifted her in his lap so he could press the hardness between his legs into her backside. “It’s a beautiful night and I’d like to share some of it with you.”

Gaius nudged his horse and paraded her past the line of prisoners and the other soldiers as he led them to the front of the detail. Valeria found nothing beautiful about this night while being forced to tolerate such a brutish presence. How long would Gaius keep her on his horse?

The Legatus turned when he heard them approaching and grinned proudly at Gaius. “I see you were able to talk some sense into our little antagonist.” His smile faded when he looked at Valeria.

“She’s been through a terrible ordeal,” Gaius said. “I’m sure she’ll come around with time and patience.”

“You’re just the man to do it.” The Legatus beamed with open admiration for his soldier. “Did you know, lady, that Gaius here trains horses for the Roman army?”

“Does he?” She feigned interest in a mocking tone. “How nice for him.”

Gaius squeezed his arms around her, like he was giving her a signal, letting her know he didn’t approve of her tone. If he thought to train her like one of his horses then he had no idea just how willful and stubborn she could be. This man might use force to get her to do as he wanted, but he’d never tame her spirit.