The Champion (22 page)

Impressed by the hard-nosed tactic, but beyond caring what Antonius said as long it produced the desired result, Alexius stood and began to pace.

“You wouldn’t!”

“Sign or consider the matter done.”

Alexius wasn’t certain if the sudden quiet was capitulation or the calm before a storm. He heard something clatter, like a stylus hitting a desk.

“There, the filthy contract is signed! Take your Greek dog and my worthless daughter from this house and make certain they never set foot here again!”

Alexius raced up the steps to Tibi’s chamber. Antonius’s own litter waited outside to take her home. Alexius had already sent word to the
ludus
and arranged to have a physician present when they arrived.

The pitiful sight that greeted him ripped his heart apart. Tibi was in the same spot and position he’d left her in the previous night. He touched her brow. The fever lingered. The effects of the opium were wearing off. The muscles of her abused back were starting to jump in protest against their treatment.

He shouted for a basin of water and fresh cloths. Crouching beside her, he brushed the hair out of her eyes. “Tibi?
Agape mou
, can you hear me?”

There was the faintest nod of her head.

“Your father’s agreed to let you wed me. I’m taking you home with the hope that I can eventually win your agreement. For now you need to rest and get well. I’m going to take care of you if you don’t mind.”

Another faint movement.

“I know you’re suffering, but we have to leave here. I have no more medicine.”

He might have imagined it, but he thought she winced. For her, the two miles to the
ludus
were going to seem like one hundred. He prayed that she’d lose consciousness.

He secured the light cotton cloth covering her. “I have to pick you up.” He slowly turned her on her side. Her body convulsed and a shriek of pain burst from her chapped lips. He eased her back to her stomach.

A slave delivered a basin and cloths. Alexius cooled her brow, her throat, her wrists.

“By the gods!” Antonius exclaimed from the doorway. “She didn’t deserve this.”

“I told you.” Alexius glared at the other man. “Tiberius isn’t going to get away with this…this barbarity.”

“I agree he shouldn’t.” The senator seemed embarrassed. “I’m sorry I didn’t pay more attention. Clearly she needed a champion. I failed her.”

“
I
am her champion,” Alexius said. “Forever if she’ll have me.”

B
y the time, the litter arrived at the
ludus,
Alexius’s prayers had been answered and Tibi was blessed with oblivion. He told himself he held her to keep her from moving with the sway and occasional bounce of the litter, but the truth was he simply needed her in his arms.

Caros, Quintus, their wives and Tibi’s sister were waiting in the outer courtyard when Alexius stepped out of the litter. He knew his friends wanted an accounting of the past day and a half. They and the shrew were going to have to wait. “What?” he dared them to speak. “I’m a farm boy at heart. Your stratagems were too much for me. I simply went and found her.”

Alexius reached into the silk-draped litter and lifted Tibi into his arms as though she were the rarest blue glass. With great care, he carried her up the steps and into the chamber she’d used the previous week. He went to the sleeping couch in the corner and eased her onto her stomach.

The three women followed him, gathering around Tibi’s bruised form. Even the usually unflappable
Adiona shed tears for the suffering Tiberius had ordered.

Remus, the physician, arrived, casting the men from the chamber. Drying his hands with a towel, he came back a short time later. “As far as I can tell, she has no broken bones. Sadly, there is no way for me to know if she’s bleeding within her body. I recommend you keep her bathed and cool, especially until her fever breaks.” He reached into his supplies and handed Alexius two black bottles plugged with cork. “This is calendula oil. Spread it gently, yet liberally over her bruises to help them heal. This one is—”

“Mandragora root?”

“It’s less addictive than opium and will help her sleep better,” Remus said. “A small draught in half a cup of honeyed wine usually does the trick, but then, I expect you remember that.”

For the next two days, Alexius refused to leave Tibi’s side. He ate his meals by the window, watching his men in the field below. He slept in the chair next to her couch and talked to her until all hours of the night about his farm in Umbria and the progress of the men she’d trained. The only time he left her was when Adiona or Pelonia came to bathe and dress her each morning. They kept her hair washed, brushed and braided. The whole room smelled of the floral calendula oil they rubbed over every patch of abused tissue.

Tibi’s fever had eased that first night he’d brought her from Tiberius’s
domus,
only to flare again the following day. Last night she’d broken out in a sweat. Alexius hoped the worst was over.

He bowed his head, praying for her health just as he’d done every day since the Lord returned her to him.

“Alexius?” Her voice was a craggy whisper.

“I’m here, Tibi. Are you awake?”

Her eyes were closed. For a moment he thought she was talking in her sleep. “Alexius?”

Afraid he might jostle her, he knelt down on the floor, the cold mosaic tiles biting into his knees.

She opened her eyes. Her beautiful half smile filled him with relief. “I love you,” she whispered.

He picked up her hand and kissed each of her fingers. “I love you, too. How are you feeling?”

“The pain. I’m having trouble breathing.”

“I know,
agape mou
. I wish I could bear the hurt for you.”

“Your ribs?” she asked.

Amazed that she even remembered his wound after all she’d endured, he bent and kissed the top of her head. “My ribs are fine. You need to rest.”

Her long lashes fluttered downward. Alexius thought she’d gone back to sleep. He moved to stand. She blinked and looked at him. “Did you say my father… Permission…?”

“Yes, I have the signed contract.”

“How?”

He picked a stray piece of linen from her shoulder. “I’ll tell you once you recover.”

Her eyes slipped shut. “I will.”

“I know you will. You’re getting better every hour.”

“No,” she winced when she moved her head. “I will…marry you.”

“How is our patient today?”

Tibi looked up to see Adiona walking across the room toward her. As graceful as always in a green
stola
and emerald earrings, Adiona was the most beautiful woman Tibi had ever seen. But despite her kindness
and generosity in nursing her back to health, Adiona possessed a natural reserve and sophisticated manner Tibi found intimidating.

“I’m much better. I can take a full breath without pain. I’m going to try to walk today.”

“Excellent.” Adiona’s lovely amber eyes settled on Tibi’s face. “But do be careful. I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

“Thank you. I hope you know how much I appreciate all you’ve done for me. You certainly didn’t need to bother.”

“You’re no bother, Tibi. You’re my friend.” Adiona squeezed her hand. “You remind me of myself in many ways. I have a difficult time accepting help, just as you seem to do.”

“It’s hard to think of you needing aid from anyone,” Tibi said honestly. “You seem…perfect. There doesn’t appear to be a single flaw in you.”

“I’m far from perfect. Ask my husband.” Adiona laughed, a lovely sound that invited others to smile.

“Quintus adores you. Anyone can see he does.”

“That’s because he’s adored in return.” Adiona sat in the chair Alexius always used and poured a small amount of calendula oil into her palm. “He’s my gift from the Lord. Without him I wouldn’t be the person I am now. And the person I was before I knew him and the Lord was not a very good or nice one.”

Tibi rolled onto her stomach and adjusted her tunic to give Adiona access to her bruises. “Who changed you more? God or Quintus?”

“Quintus is a man, so I’m certain he’d like to think he did.” She laughed. “I’m teasing. The truth is I loved Quintus first because I could see and touch him, but the
Lord changed my heart and healed me so that I could have the joyful life I do now.”

“You were ill?”

“Not with sickness, but with hate and fear.”

Tibi grimaced as Adiona rubbed a particularly sore spot. She turned her head for a glimpse at the beautiful woman who tended her wounds with such care. “I find that so difficult to believe. You’re one of the most kind and loving people I know.”

“Thank you, but that’s the Lord’s work, Tibi.” She wiped the excess oil off her hands and covered Tibi’s back with her tunic and a light cotton covering. “If you don’t believe me, ask Pelonia—no, she’ll only say nice things. Ask your sister instead. Tiberia will remember me as I was then.”

Tibi eased onto her side. Adiona fetched feather-stuffed pillows to prop her up. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Adiona sat back in Alexius’s chair and rearranged her sea-green
stola
. “Feel free to ask me whatever you wish.”

Tibi brushed her fingers across the soft silk pillow. “What did you fear and why did you hate?”

Adiona’s gaze dropped to her folded hands in her lap. Certain, she’d offended her new friend, Tibi began to apologize, but Adiona spoke first. “I don’t tell many people about myself, but I think the Lord wants me to share with you.

“My father was much like yours—cold and unfeeling,” she said. “He thought of me as useless because I wasn’t a son.”

Adiona’s confession grabbed Tibi by the heart.

“When I was twelve years old, he came back from war and sold me into marriage to pay his debts. My first
husband was as evil as Quintus is wonderful. I vowed to hate all men because of my father and husband. I didn’t realize it, but that hate was the root of much fear. I always had to protect myself and I trusted very few people.

“When Quintus came along, I almost missed him because of my problems. But the Lord put us together in terrible circumstances. Quintus taught me to trust him. Because of his testimony I was able to believe the Lord loved me. He healed my battered heart, became the loving Father I never had and gave me the man and family I always dreamed of.”

Tibi blinked tears from her eyes. She noticed there was moisture in Adiona’s eyes as well.

A rap on the door frame drew their attention. A nursemaid held Adiona’s year-old daughter in her arms. “Forgive me for interrupting, mistress, but this precious darling wants her mama.”

Tibi forgotten, Adiona gladly accepted her green-eyed infant, Fabia, with unconditional love. She kissed a blush pink cheek and stroked her baby’s soft black ringlets.

Tibi smiled, watching the playful antics of a mother with a daughter who would always be loved. She’d accepted the hole in her heart that was meant to be filled by her parents’ affection would stay empty forever. “I envy you.”

“There’s no need, my friend. Everything I have comes from the Lord and Jesus gives everything He has freely. If you want Him in your life, just ask Him in.”

Later, that same afternoon, Tibi was lying on her side leaning on a pillow when Alexius walked in to see
her. Freshly shaven, he wore a gray tunic that almost matched his silver eyes. The damp curls of his glossy hair suggested that he’d come directly from a bath.

“You are the handsomest man on this earth.”

He kissed her softly and sat in the chair beside her couch. “I think that depends on who’s looking at me.”

“You’re right,” she said a little breathless from his kiss. “I imagine everyone else thinks you’re ugly.”

He chuckled. “Probably.”

“Where have you been?” she asked, breathing in his spicy scent.

“On the field, then the bath.”

“How are my men?”

“They miss you.”

“Really?” Happiness surged through her. She found she liked being appreciated and respected. Her pride in the students’ improvement created an affectionate bond she’d rarely experienced. She considered them her friends. “I miss them, too. Tell them so, will you?”

He promised. Velus delivered a tray overflowing with dishes for their midday meal. They ate the poached partridge eggs and smoked ham before Alexius pulled out the board for a game of
latrunculi
. He placed the grid-patterned board on the sleeping couch. Tibi reclined on her side next to the game. Alexius sat in the chair across the board from her. “I will win this time.” He placed his blue stones on his side of the grid and looked at her with fierce determination.

“There’s always a first time for everything.” She laughed as she set up her red stones in front of her.

Tibi tossed her die and moved a piece the allotted three spaces. “Adiona and I spoke of something important today.”

His die clacked on the wood board. He moved his first piece four spots. “What was it?”

“Did you know that her father didn’t love her, either?”

“I’ve heard bits and pieces. It’s not a pretty story. She doesn’t seem to mind her past anymore.”

Tibi cast her die and moved another game piece. “How would you feel if
I
became a Christian?”

He stilled, his blue game piece forgotten. His smile cast every shadow from her heart. “I told you I’d win today.”

“How so?” she asked, looking at the board and her perfectly set strategy.

“I accepted the Lord as my own the day He brought you back to me.”

“What?”
The news filled her with more joy than she expected. “Why did you keep such news a secret?”

“I wanted to tell you. You were in such devastating pain. I decided to wait for a better time.”

She moved the board, scattering the stones. Surprised by her sudden action, he looked at the red-and-blue pile on the covers, and grinned up her. “What? Was I winning?”

“No,” she said, adjusting her pillow. “Forget the game. Tell me everything.”

Alexius scooped up a handful of the
latrunculi
stones and slowly filtered them through his fingers. He’d put the dark days of her absence as far out of his mind as possible. “I was frantic when you were missing. I kept reliving Kyra’s assault and I knew that if I lost you, I might as well die, too.”

“Alexius, no!”

“You know how they are,” he continued, referencing their friends. “They were praying all the time and…and
I couldn’t help wanting to join them. I told the Lord if He brought you back to me, I’d believe He forgave me. I promised to serve Him the rest of my days if He did.”

A breeze blew in the open window, bringing a hint of the honeysuckle blooms on the climbing vines. Concerned that Tibi would catch a draft, he stood and readjusted her covers.

“Pelonia came back a short time later from visiting your sister. They’d been to see your father and he’d barred them from the house. We suspected that he had you. I went later that night and found we were correct.”

She frowned, confused. “At night? You brought me home during the day, or so I thought.”

“One of your father’s servants led me to your window. I found you in your room.”

“Wait.” Her brow pleated. “My window is on the second floor. What did you do?” She laughed. “Climb the tree outside?”

He scooped the stones again and let silence be his answer.

“You climbed to my window?” A soft, feminine look filled her brown eyes. “How romantic.”

“It was an act of desperation. I could have broken my neck.”

“I wish I’d known you were there.”

“You were crying in your sleep,” he said with remembered pain. “That hurt worse than any wound I ever received.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” He stood by the window looking out at the herb garden. He saw Caros holding his two-year-old son, Pelonius, on one arm. The small boy was a black-haired, blue-eyed miniature of his father, minus the scars.

Pelonius picked a leaf off the lemon tree. Caros brushed it across the child’s nose, making the boy throw back his head and giggle with innocent abandon.

He couldn’t wait until he and Tibi had their own child. She would be the kindest of mothers and he would do his best to be just like his own loving father.

He felt her presence beside him. “What are you doing up?”

“I’m trying to get my strength back.” She glanced out the window. “Look at Caros and the baby. How sweet.”

Alexius positioned himself behind Tibi, not touching her to cause pain, but ready to catch her if she needed him. He nuzzled her ear, breathing deeply of her natural perfume. “The world is upside down when Caros Viriathos is described as sweet.”