The Champion (10 page)

He stiffened. Not even armed gladiators dared to speak to him in such a manner. “Cease—”

“No, you cease, Alexius. I’ve told you before that I want to be your friend. I apologize if I crossed a line I shouldn’t have. If you have no wish for my friendship, then say so, but don’t belittle me. I’ve stomached enough acid of that kind to last a lifetime. Either treat me with the consideration you’ve shown me thus far or take me back to my father. I have no love for his treatment, but at least with him I know what to expect, and he can no longer disappoint me.”

She’d cut his legs out from under him. He felt smaller in stature than Velus, yet strangely glad she wasn’t afraid of him. His ire faded and he tamped down his pride. “I was wrong, Tibi. I’m sorry I offended you.”

She swallowed hard and nodded in what he hoped was a sign of forgiveness. “I’m sorry if I was too harsh with you.”

He fought a smile, loving her kind heart. For the first time, he realized how much courage she’d had to call upon to censure him. “I’m pleased you spoke your mind. I told you before—you have no need to fear me.”

“Thank you. I confess I didn’t know if I could believe you.”

“And now?” he asked.

She tilted her head and contemplated him with dark eyes large enough to drown in. “I’m starting to think I can.”

Pleased, he looked across the distance toward Silo, who waited near a copse of olive trees on the edge of the archery field. His instincts prodded him to march Tibi back to the house, lock her away from his men and keep her safe from the world, but if he gave in to his impulses, he’d lose whatever goodwill she felt toward him. She desired respect. He recognized the signs because he’d spent most of his life fighting to gain the same thing for himself. He held the power to deny her the chance to prove her ability in the area she felt most confident, but if he crushed her spirit, he’d be no better than her father.

Disgusted by the thought of being anything like Tiberius, he set his fears for her aside and put her wants above his own. “Come, Tibi,” he urged, as he set out across the sand. “The day is waning and Silo appears to be ready for us.”

Tibi refused to question her good fortune when Alexius resumed their trek toward the archery field. He’d truly worried her when he said he’d reconsidered allowing her to train his men. Many times throughout her life her father had given her permission to do something she enjoyed, then changed his mind at the last moment for no apparent reason.

She was encouraged to learn that Alexius was not the same kind of man. His indecision stemmed from a
concern for her safety, not a delight in humiliating or punishing her as Tiberius had always sought to do.

As they approached the archery instructor waiting under an olive tree, Tibi grew nervous. She was eager to be a help to Alexius, just as he’d helped her, but what if she was’nt good enough? What if she proved useless? Worse, what if she made a fool of Alexius for recommending her?

Silo, a swarthy, bearded man, met them a few paces away from a wood crate filled with several bows of different types and lengths. Alexius made introductions before allowing the instructor to take over the assessment.

His condescension ill-concealed, Silo waved her toward the crate and invited Tibi to choose the pieces that best suited her.

She glanced at Alexius. He was leaning against one of the olive trees, his muscular arms folded over his chest. His handsome face was a study in boredom. She found his lack of interest less than heartening. He seemed convinced that the entire exercise was a complete waste of time in which she was bound to fail. Was his lack of faith in her abilities the real reason he’d reconsidered giving her the chance to prove herself?

Her shoulders back, she moved to the crate, determined to show Alexius and his patronizing instructor that she was fully capable of performing as well as she claimed.

Harsh voices and the clack of striking weapons carried from the gladiator field as she considered each of the half a dozen bows on offer. Of the three types available, she chose one of each to test in order for the men to see her expertise with each kind.

The first was a basic straight bow made of wood
and shorter than she. One was a longbow, also made of wood, but its length was greater than her height. The last, a composite bow, was Tibi’s preferred choice of weapon. It was made of horn and sinew attached to a wooden core with animal hide glue. Smaller and easier to handle than the longbow, it offered the same amount of power. The multiple layers stored added power in the bow, allowing shots to gain an equal or greater distance from the lighter, shorter weapon.

Before strapping on a quiver, she inspected several arrows from their carved bone tips to their soft feathered tails. Convinced that she’d chosen her equipment well, she moved to the gash in the dirt Silo had created as a shooting line, about fifty paces from the first target. Because of the short distance, she kept the standard bow and handed the other two to Silo for safekeeping.

Silo smirked. “Are you sure that’s the best choice?”

Tibi smiled sweetly and nodded. She was no stranger to intimidation. She refused to be confused by him, and in this one area, to second-guess herself.

Taking the force and direction of the rising wind into account, she assumed a stance with one foot positioned in front and one behind the shooting line for greater stability. With the arrow in place, she took aim, pulled back the string and let the arrow fly.

Just as she expected, the arrow hit the center of the target. Elated that she wasn’t as out of practice as she’d feared, she looked to Silo to judge his reaction. His impassive expression irritated her. “Well?”

“Adequate,” he said without emotion. “At least I can be assured you won’t shoot yourself in the foot. Shall we try the next one? Or is the wind too much for you?”

Tibi glanced at the next target. At twice the distance
of the first one, the hay-stuffed tunic sported a melon on top to serve as a head.

Without a word, she traded the standard bow for the longbow and moved to the next shooting line. Silo was correct. The wind had kicked up, blowing leaves across the ground and rustling the trees along the field’s perimeter. The size of the longbow also presented more of challenge. The greater size of the piece provided more thrust for a longer shot, but pulling back the string strained the muscles of her arm. She released the arrow, hitting the mark she aimed for in the center of the melon.

Again the instructor offered no reaction. Annoyed, Tibi set another arrow then let it fly. Just as she intended the arrow pierced the target’s “heart.”

“Bloodthirsty,” she heard Alexius murmur behind her.

She turned and scowled at him, but as usual he just laughed.

She followed Silo to the third and farthest target. Fashioned in the shape of a circle, the target had been tied to the end of a rope and dangled from a tree limb. The wind had set it swinging like a pendulum.

“Now we’ll see if you can really shoot,” Silo said, handing her the composite bow. “Or if the other shots were flukes, as I suspect.”

Tibi’s lips tightened. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. If Silo meant to fluster her as part of the test, he’d have to try harder. She waited as he used the heel of his sandal to mark the last shooting line. She moved into place, positioned her feet, raised the bow and took aim. The arrow hit the target to the left of center.

“Just as I thought,” Silo said. “You aren’t quite the expert you claim to be.”

“Silo…” Alexius warned.

“Wait,” Tibi interrupted. She faced the instructor. “Give me the standard bow.”

He did as she commanded. She took up position and sent another arrow sailing toward the swinging target. Although the arrow was shot from the weakest of the bows, it hit right of center. “Give me the longbow,” she said.

Silo obeyed. She planted her feet and shot another arrow. This time, the arrow hit center.

She turned to the instructor. “If you still believe I’m no more than adequate, you’re blind.”

A wide smile cracked the instructor’s swarthy face. “
I
believed you after you skewered the melon. That shot was most impressive—especially for a woman.”

She heard Alexius utter an oath behind her, but she was too pleased with the outcome of the test to take offense. “Does that mean you won’t mind if I help instruct the trainees?”

Silo looked beyond her shoulder. Aware that the trainer wouldn’t agree without Alexius’s permission, she held her breath for what seemed like an eternity.

“I’ll be glad to have your help,” Silo said finally. “But whether or not the rest of the men will take instruction from a female remains to be seen.”

C
onfident and happy with the trial’s successful outcome, Tibi started back to the main house with Alexius by her side. “Tell me the truth,” she said as they skirted the gladiator field. “What did you think of my shooting?”

“I was most impressed,” he said over the mock battles taking place in the training yard. “I almost felt sorry for the second target. Such violent tendencies you displayed. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were part barbarian.”

“It’s a family secret, but I
am
part barbarian.” She grinned as his eyebrow arched with curious interest. “My grandmother was a native Briton. My grandfather served Plautius during his first governorship of Britannia. The story I was told is that my grandmother was taken as a slave a short time before my grandfather received his military diploma and returned to Rome. She tried to kill him the same day he bought her, but he was so taken with her fiery spirit, light hair and blue eyes that he was overcome with emotion for her. Rather than punishing her, they married within months of meeting.

Pelonia’s mother was the third of their nine children. My mother was their fifth.”

“If your grandmother’s hair was half as lovely as yours, I’m not surprised he was smitten with her.”

“Other people have light-colored hair,” she said, warmed by the compliment.

“Yes, but yours is unique. Like morning sunlight shining on pure gold. I’ve never seen its like.”

Uncertain how to respond to such praise, she directed the conversation back to the archery test. “Silo seems to think your men won’t like having me as an instructor.”

“Don’t be concerned. You’ll win them over.”

“Do you truly think I’ll have anything to teach them?”

“I’m certain of it. I’ve no doubt Silo and I can learn a trick or two as well.”

“You?” The strong breeze pulled at her braid. “I thought you were an expert with all weapons.”

“Give me a lance, a trident or a
gladius
and I’m unbeatable,” he said with a confidence born from experience. “As for bows and arrows, I know the basics, but I never claimed to be more than adequate.”

“You heard Silo.” She smiled up at him as she pushed loose tendrils of hair out of her eyes. “Instruction begins tomorrow at sunrise.”

He chuckled. “I hate to disappoint you, but I’m having guests tonight. If I make it to the field before midday tomorrow, I’ll consider it a miracle.”

They left the training area through an iron gate that opened into a peach orchard. The strong wind whistled through the trees, setting the leaves and limbs to dancing.

They started down a brick path that led to the main
house. The smell of smoke wafted from the nearby cookhouse. The sky was darkening with the setting sun and a servant was lighting torches along the path.

“Do you think any of your guests will recognize me?” she asked

He shrugged. “I can’t say. A few of them might. I know one or two of them are acquainted with your sister.”

Well aware that gladiators were the favored conquest of wealthy women on the hunt, she was beset with images of Alexius surrounded by beautiful admirers. Her spirits sank. “It might be best if I stay in my room for the night.”

“Yes,” he agreed without hesitation. He pulled open the side door of the house and waited for Tibi to precede him. “I was about to suggest that myself.”

“When do expect your wom…guests to arrive?”

“Within the hour. I’ll have Velus send a bath and a meal to your room. You’ll want to get your rest. Silo may seem easy in temperament, but don’t let him fool you. He can be a brutal taskmaster.”

Upstairs, Tibi entered her room and closed the door. One of the servants had lit a set of ceramic oil lamps on the desk. The plain plaster walls crowded in on her. She was an
idiota
. She had to be to fall in love with an untamed man who spent his evenings entertaining swarms of equally wild women. Hating the jealousy coursing through her veins, she leaned against the door’s smooth surface and lightly banged the back of her head on the wood before moving deeper into the room.

To her surprise, she saw a small pile of folded, light-colored tunics on the sleeping couch. A comb and a bottle of cleansing oils sat next to the neat stack. She’d
have to thank Leta for her thoughtfulness the next time she saw her.

A short time later, servants arrived with a tub they filled with several large buckets of hot water. One of the men closed the shutters on the window overlooking the house’s inner garden.

Once the servants departed, Tibi added a dose of the jasmine cleansing oil to the steaming tub. She breathed in the fresh, floral scent as she slipped into the water. Her muscles relaxed as the soothing heat surrounded her up to her neck.

She fashioned a pillow out of one of the drying cloths and leaned her head back against the rim of the tub. Her eyes closed, she marveled at the events of the day. She found it almost impossible to believe that
she
was now a gladiator instructor. Despite the danger of scandal if anyone spread the word about her new undertaking, she basked in a sense of accomplishment and worth previously unknown to her experience.

As she planned her archery lesson for the next day, Alexius’s handsome face swam into view in her mind’s eye. A smile curved her lips. Desperate, irrational love squeezed her heart. He’d called her beautiful and his compliments did wonders for what little feminine pride she possessed, but they were no match for the extraordinary fact that he’d not only believed in her abilities, he’d given her a chance to prove her skill when no one else had ever bothered.

The water cooled, causing her to shiver. She washed her hair and rinsed it with the last bucket of clean, tepid water before leaving the tub. Dressed in one of the fresh tunics, she combed her hair, giving the cool air a chance to dry the long tresses.

The faint melody of a panpipe drifted through the
shutters, alerting her to the start of the night’s festivities. She did her best to disregard the ugly emotions baiting her but found it almost impossible not to give in to the curiosity begging her to spy through the window.

A female’s husky laughter floated up from the courtyard. The sound proved too much for Tibi to endure. She reached for the handle on the shutters.

A knock sounded on the door. She jumped in guilty surprise and released the handle as though the scrap of metal had caught on fire. She rushed to let her visitor in, telling herself she was thankful to be diverted from the fete downstairs.

Leta waited in the corridor. The young maid held a tray heavy with various dishes of vegetables, meats and fish. A small loaf of bread smelled fresh from the oven. “Master Alexius thought you might be hungry,” the maid said with a smile. “He didn’t know your preferences, so there’s a sample of some of the delicacies he’s offering to his other guests tonight.”

Her stomach already in a knot of complicated emotions, Tibi wasn’t interested in the food. She waved Leta into the room, determined to hide her inner turmoil from Alexius’s kind but chatty servant.

The maid set the tray on the desk, sliding the lamps out of the way as she did so.

“Thank you for the tunics and oils,” Tibi said. “They’re much appreciated.”

“Don’t thank me. Master Alexius sent them. I overheard him tell Velus he wants you to be comfortable here.”

Alexius’s thoughtfulness released a spring of joy inside Tibi. As soon as she saw him she’d let him know how much his kindness meant to her.

Leta moved to the window on the opposite wall. Her
fingers fiddled with the shutter slats as she did her best to snatch a view of the group below without appearing too obvious.

“The usual buzzards have already descended,” the maid said nonchalantly. “Livia Marciana, Cosma Tertia and Antonia Corvina are the worst. They’re here every night the master allows visitors. All three are rich widows who vie for his attention and hang on his every word. I doubt any of them truly cares for him. They’re in a competition with each other to see who can seduce him first. My guess is it will be Livia. She’s the sneakiest and the loveliest to look upon. Plus she has the least annoying laugh of all three of them.”

Tibi scowled. She knew of Antonia Corvina. The woman was a notorious gossip who traveled unhindered in Tiberia’s social circle. The name Livia Marciana seemed vaguely familiar to her, but she’d never heard of the third widow. And after learning of the woman’s plans for Alexius tonight, she had no wish to.

“Maybe your master is wise to their scheming and won’t dabble with any of them.”

Leta giggled. “The master
adores
women. I’m certain he’ll choose at
least
one of the trio when their offer is plain for all to see. Why wouldn’t he, when they’re all so very beautiful and rich beyond imagination?”

Refusing to be impressed with hypocritical women who chased gladiators by night when they’d most likely be scandalized to speak to those same men by day, Tibi stayed silent, leaving the maid to gush alone.

The rich aroma of roasted pork provided Tibi with a much-needed distraction. She made her way to the tray of delicacies on the desk, hoping to find something to tempt her uneasy stomach. She hadn’t eaten since morning. Aware that she needed to keep up her
strength for the next day’s training session, she skipped over the dormice and sea urchins in favor of a perfectly cooked selection of pork that melted in her mouth. The delicious morsel did wonders to revive her appetite. She closed her eyes and savored another bite before sampling a boiled cardoon stem.

“Sergius says their skin is like perfect cream. And their clothes are made of silk so fine it must have been woven for the gods.”

“Who is Sergius?”

“My man.” Leta beamed with pride. “He’s one of the school’s champions. Two more fights and he’ll have enough coin to pay off his debt to the master. Four fights and we’ll have enough money to marry.”

Tibi offered congratulations. “Is Sergius downstairs?”

“Oh yes. You can see him there playing dice in the corner of… Oh no. Not again,” Leta hissed.

Tibi looked up to see the maid drop the shutter’s slat back into place. “What is it?”

The usually sanguine maid turned grim. “Senator Basilius is here for the second time in one day.”

Tibi tensed. She headed for the window to see her brother-in-law’s rival.

“Do you know the swine?” Leta asked.

“Not personally,” she said, wondering at the younger girl’s vehemence. “I take it you do?”

“I was his slave until two years ago.” There was a wealth of meaning in the short explanation.

“I’m sorry,” Tibi said, understanding far better than the maid probably gave her credit for.

Leta shrugged. “Master Alexius rescued me. He’s allowing me to work off my slave price. If the gods will it, I’ll be free by June.”

Pleased for Leta, Tibi couldn’t help feeling a pang of envy for the other girl when gaining her own freedom was an impossibility.

The jaunty notes of a kithara had replaced the more refined melody of a flute by the time she folded back one of the shutters to peer down into the courtyard. Lanterns had been lit along the garden’s paths, giving the rectangular area a warm, golden glow. The splash of the fountains and the sweet smell of incense lent the night a sultry air. Low-cushioned couches covered in a dark shade of crimson surrounded circular tables laden with large platters of food. Laughing diners reclined and fed one another from the rich fare.

“There’s the senator. Over there by that large potted palm,” Leta whispered, pointing with her index finger.

“Yes, I recognize him,” Tibi said, although her eyes were scanning the scene for Alexius with an immediacy she feared must be improper. “Your master and I saw him at an eating establishment after we left the Coliseum yesterday.”

“I wonder why he’s here.”

Tibi found Alexius, and a dozen men she recognized as gladiators she’d met at the arena the day before, mingling with twenty or so guests on the far side of the courtyard. Dressed in a light gray tunic with a wide, black belt, the silver wristbands he favored and black leather sandals that laced up to his knees, her Greek personified raw power and masculine strength. She found it easy to understand why the female populace favored him. Her own heart raced a little faster each time she saw him until sometimes she feared it might burst from her chest.

“Don’t you?”

“Don’t I what?” Tibi murmured distractedly.

“Wonder why the senator has come tonight.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Basilius heading straight for Alexius. Velus appeared in the doorway left of the garden. Tibi watched the steward take in the scene and march straight for Basilius. The older man tried to bypass the dwarf, but obviously indifferent to the arrogance of powerful men, Velus prevailed in his subtle but tenacious bid to redirect the senator in the opposite direction.

Tibi sighed in relief. Her loyalty remained with her brother-in-law. “Most likely the senator’s here to convince Alexius to promote him to the mob. From what Alexius explained to me, the emperor chooses consul candidates in large part due to their popularity with the masses.”

She glanced at the maid, wondering why Leta had gone uncharacteristically silent. “But then, I could be wrong.”

“I doubt you are. I hope the master isn’t taken in and casts him out on his head.”

Tibi hoped so, too, but the senator’s prompt ejection from the party wasn’t likely. After their disagreement yesterday, Alexius was too savvy to court Basilius’s disfavor. He believed the old man was likely to win the consulship and he wouldn’t fare well if he’d openly rejected the cunning senator.

Troubled by the political intrigues unfolding in front of her, Tibi considered contacting her brother-in-law with the information, but she couldn’t do that without confirming her location. She would just have to try to help her family by convincing Alexius not to support Basilius.

The music and dull roar of conversation filled the garden. Her gaze slid back to Alexius. He and two other
men were surrounded by a pack of painted women dressed in low-cut tunics and dripping with jewels. His dark head was tipped back as he laughed. An admirer in a fashionable blond wig and bloodred
stola
moved to his side. She wrapped her arm around his back with a familiarity that made Tibi grind her teeth. She willed him to push the flirt away, but he pulled the woman close with casual ease.