The Champion (5 page)

“I have. Once, two years ago I was invited to join the party when Tiberia and her husband sojourned with them in
Iguvium
for the summer. Truthfully, I’ve
never seen a more beauteous place. It’s no surprise their friends Quintus and Adiona bought their own villa and vineyards nearby. I understand you have a farm there as well.”

He nodded.

“Your trainer, Darius, said your description of the area has given him the hope of settling his family there someday.”

“Yes, on its worst day
Iguvium
is far better than Rome on its best.”

“Then why do you stay here when it’s clear your heart is elsewhere?”

He opened the door without answering and waited for her to precede him through what appeared to be the back entrance of the busy stable. The strong odors of horseflesh and leather overpowered the rectangular space constructed of stone and rough-hewn timbers. Stable hands filled troughs with buckets of water. Horses, crowded into stalls lining both walls and the center of the long hay-covered floor, ate from feed bags or flipped their tails to clear the air of flies.

“Wait here,” Alexius said tersely.

As she idly petted the drowsing panther cub in her arms, she watched Alexius from beneath lowered lashes while he conversed with one of the Egyptian stable hands. It was widely known that women flocked to Alexius and after less than a day with him she understood why. Tall and broad-shouldered, he was not only physically arresting but possessed an inborn strength that was both undeniable and irresistible.

She leaned against the wall of the tack room and closed her tired eyes. Judging by his sharp tone when he left to seek out the groom, she’d somehow offended him with her chatter. Leave it to her to annoy a male
renowned for his tolerance and good humor—at least outside of a fight. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be the first time she was deemed too inquisitive when she was simply trying to make conversation, but it
was
the first time she wished she’d learned the art of acting serene and mysterious like her sister. If her experience with men held true, Alexius would want nothing else to do with her or, as it must seem to him, her talent for asking inappropriate questions.

In all likelihood, he regretted his decision to help her. Who wouldn’t? In less than a day, he’d been forced to deceive her family, fight his own men to protect her, spend coin on an animal he considered useless and break a contract to fight in the arena. Once Pelonia and Caros returned to Rome, he’d hand her over, glad to be finished with her and the trouble that constantly plagued her.

Unexpectedly bereft, she cursed the foolish delight she experienced only in Alexius’s presence. Somehow she had to resist the numerous ways she found him appealing. Her father would never accept a gladiator for a son-in-law, nor would Alexius ever consent to marry her. His respect for Caros had prompted him to assist her, nothing more. There could be no other reason. Alexius was a wealthy, handsome man of the world known to have any woman he wanted, whereas she was a reviled second daughter without even beauty to offer.

A horse in the closest stall whinnied near her ear, startling her out of her musings. Alexius paid the stable boy then motioned for her to join him halfway up the aisle.

“Is all well?” she asked.

He reached out and ran a gentle index finger along
the cub’s silky back. “We’re to meet Ptah near the entrance. If the need arises we’ll have to share my mount, Calisto. I sought to hire a mare for you, but the games’ crowd is considerable today and there are no extra horses on hand.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, aware that most of the reason for the large show of spectators was due to Alexius’s place on the roster. And now he wouldn’t be there because of her. “Please don’t think your kindness to me has gone unnoticed. I plan to repay—”

He held up a bronzed, battle-scarred hand to quiet her. “I seek no repayment, except your goodwill. I told you this morning, I
like
being with you.”

Tibi’s heart danced in her chest. A strange weakness entered her knees, challenging her ability to walk as she fell into step beside him. “I assumed you were being polite—”

“Polite?” He laughed.

“Yes, polite.” She frowned up at him. “I realize you’re helping me because of your friendship with Caros. After what you’ve endured…and lost because of me today, you deserve compensation.”

“What exactly have I lost?”

“Your place on the field for one.”

“Maybe I consider today a gain.” He gave her a wolfish smile that was wholly unfamiliar to her experience. “What would you say then?”

Her face heated and her mouth ran dry. “I…I have money in my satchel back at the
ludus
.”

His burst of laughter startled a trio of tethered horses. “Keep your coin, my lady. I have no need of it. Nor do I want it.”

“But—”

“Cease or you’ll offend me.”

She glanced at him covertly. “I thought I already had.”

“Already had what?”

“Offended you,” she said over the rising babble of patrons gathered around the arched entranceway.

“How so? Nothing you do bothers me.”

She blinked in disbelief. Since the day of her birth she’d been told in word and deed that she was an unwanted irritant. If not for his earnest expression, she might have thought he was teasing with her again. “Before… When I asked why you stay in Rome.”

His expression soured. “That has nothing to do with you. Let’s not speak of the matter.”

She let the subject drop, although her curiosity gnawed at her. It was obvious that she’d struck upon at least
one
topic that vexed him.

“There’s Calisto.”

Hearing the pride in his voice, she turned her head to see Ptah leading a magnificent gray stallion, its flowing mane and tail the color of glossy obsidian. Like his master, Calisto walked tall, his head held high, clearly used to being admired by all who saw him.

“He’s spectacular, Alexius. Perfect.”

“Yes, you barely miss the wings.”

The humor in his silver eyes was infectious. “Don’t be concerned. I won’t hold that against him.”

Alexius collected the reins from Ptah and stroked Calisto’s silken muzzle and forehead. In his native Greek, he greeted the horse like an old friend.

“Let’s be on our way.” He tugged Tibi’s cowl forward. The feather-soft touch of his fingers along her cheek as he tucked a fallen strand of hair beneath the garment sent pleasant sparks across her skin. Her pulse spiked and her startled gaze locked with the liquid
silver of his. All the noise and activity swirling through the stable faded away until only Alexius existed.

“Master…?” Ptah approached, breaking their connection. “Is there a problem? Can I help you?”

Alexius groaned and closed his eyes before turning around to address the boy. Released from her stasis, Tibi spun away, grateful for Calisto’s tall form to lean against for support. Trembling, her entire body felt feverish, despite the cool spring breeze blowing through the open windows.

The cub whimpered and squirmed in her grasp. Appalled that she’d forgotten not only herself, but the little animal in her care, she loosened her hold, murmuring words of comfort in an effort to soothe him while she gathered her scattered wits.

What was wrong with her? Had she contracted some sort of sickness?

Alexius moved behind her. She held her breath in anticipation of his touch. When his large hands finally settled on her shoulders, she almost collapsed from relief. His warm breath feathered across the sensitive shell of her ear. “You’re not alone, little one. I feel the madness, too.”

Her head fell forward to rest on Calisto’s saddle blanket. She closed her eyes, desperate to understand her wildly off-kilter emotions and her even more foolish wish to believe the madness he spoke of was something as special as what she felt for him. “You do?”

“Yes…but I should know better.” He eased her back against his broad chest. His lips pressed a soft kiss on the top of her head. “Gods help me. What am I going to do with you?”

S
till reeling from Alexius’s confession, Tibi allowed him to lead her and Calisto from the stable without another word. The design of his saddle, with a pommel at each of the four corners, made riding two people an uncomfortable prospect. Tibi didn’t mind walking. She desperately needed a bit of space between her and Alexius to clear her head. The thought of clinging to him for balance while she held the cub and rode in full view above the crowd seemed disasterous.

Outside, the day’s aromas and sounds assaulted her senses. The bright sun of midafternoon nearly blinded her after the many hours of dim light in the amphitheater’s lower levels. Heavy aromas of smoked fish, roasted nuts and fresh bread woke her hungry stomach.

The thick flow of people coming and going from the entrances of the gleaming white Coliseum surrounded them like a river, threatening to sweep them away. Alexius tightened his grip on her hand and navigated the shifting current with a single-minded purpose that must serve him well in the arena, Tibi acknowledged.

Careful to keep her face concealed, but her view unobstructed lest she trip or knock someone over, she adjusted
her woolen hood. A row of makeshift stalls lined the busy circuit around the amphitheater. Hawkers did their best to tempt customers to stop and look at their wares—everything from leather goods to the freshest produce the season had to offer.

However, it wasn’t the food and supplies that drew the most notice. It was Alexius. All bronzed skin and sinewy muscle, he stood head and shoulders above the crowd, as perfect to look upon as a masterwork of Greek statuary. Young and old alike stopped to stare at him. Some watched slack-jawed while others jabbed their friends with their elbows and pointed with various levels of discretion. It wasn’t long before a path cleared, sidelined by an inquisitive horde that obviously held a gladiator of his skill in high regard. Alexius used the opportunity to move quickly, his only acknowledgment of the attention a quick wave or nod when someone bold enough called his name.

Several streets away, Rome’s central region gave way to one of the city’s more peaceful areas. Narrow alleyways led to wide-open squares where the elderly chatted around sculpted fountains and energetic children played knucklebones, chased one another or tossed sticks for their dogs to fetch.

The smoke from cooking fires and the aroma of roasted meats tinged the air. Not for the first time, Tibi’s stomach growled. Hoping Alexius didn’t hear its protests, she raised her face to soak in the warmth of the sun peeking through the rainbow of laundry strung between multistory apartment blocks. She inhaled the fresh scent of herbs growing in clay pots on each side of the footpath and listened to the even gait of Calisto’s hooves on the pavers.

“I’ve never been to this part of the city before,” she
said. “Is this a new way back to the
ludus
or can I assume that you’re abducting me?”

Alexius sent her a sidelong glance. “If I were going to kidnap a woman, I promise she’d take much less effort than you do.”

She tensed. “I told you, you deserve compensation for your inconvenience—”

He sighed. “Don’t start that again. I wasn’t serious. Did no one in your family ever joke with you?”

There’d been very little laughter in her home, none since the year before when her mother crossed the Styx. “The mood in our
domus
follows my father’s lead. Since I’ve known him, he’s been somber, angry or outright dreary.”

“Then it’s a miracle you have any sense of fun in you at all. I suppose I’ll have to make allowances for your shabby upbringing and try to be patient with you.”

“Thank you
so
much for understanding.” She narrowed her eyes at him, but he merely chuckled when she tried to look threatening. “What of
your
family?” she asked as they passed a hunchbacked woman sweeping a flight of steps. “Judging by your disposition, they must have been a troupe of jesters.”

He grinned. “Actually, no. My father was a poor, illiterate farmer who loved the land second only to my mother. My mama was as beautiful as springtime. They said their first meeting was a lightning strike. Within days they married.”

“What a wonderful story. Were they always happy?”

“With each other, yes, but for a time my grandfather caused them endless grief. He was a rich merchant who despised the thought of his daughter married to a man so far beneath her.”

“What did he do?”

“He disowned her. She was made dead to him and everyone in his house.”

“How terrible!” she said, thinking her own father would do the same.

Alexius frowned at her. “Not so terrible at all. My
abba
adored her. They had little coin, but there was always a fire in the hearth and our table was never empty. My six older sisters were—”

“
You
had six older sisters? That explains much.”

“How so?”

“You Greeks are worse for want of sons than even we Romans. After half a dozen girls, I can only imagine how much your parents must have spoiled you.”

He laughed. “Yes, my sisters used to claim they could smell the stench of my rotten hide for miles.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Her smile faded. What must have happened for Alexius to lose his loving home and become a gladiator? “They must have been distressed when you left them.”

His manner shifted imperceptibly. His smile stayed in place, but the light left his eyes. “I hope not, but I imagine so. I never saw them again after I was sold to the slave trader and taken from Iolcos.”

A band of sadness squeezed her chest. No wonder she’d sensed such turmoil beneath his smooth facade. He’d been stripped from the home and family he adored. The pain must fester within him like an open wound. Aching for his loss, she wanted to wrap him in her arms and hold him until every drop of grief drained away. “What did you do? I mean…why were you sold into slavery?”

She felt his gaze on her profile as they walked down the shadowed street. She wished she’d kept her mouth shut. Men who were sold into the gladiatorial trade
were usually murderers, traitors or the worst sort of thieves. She didn’t want to think of Alexius in those terms. He owed her nothing, not his patience or protection, but he’d been more than generous with both. True, she’d seen glimpses of the darker side of his nature, but he was also kind. He’d treated her with more respect in a few hours than she’d been shown in a lifetime. Perhaps it was madness to trust a gladiator, but no one made her feel safer or more confident about herself than Alexius did.

Deciding that the few hours she’d been granted with him were a gift that she loathed to waste, she pushed her doubts to the back of her mind. Tomorrow might find her in the temple, banished to spend the rest of her days serving a goddess who meant the same to her as a block of wood. So far, she’d had few moments worth remembering in her life, but she knew instinctively this day spent with her handsome Greek would be a time to cherish.

“You don’t want to know,” he said, seeming to read her thoughts.

She didn’t argue. Instead, they walked in companionable silence until her stomach growled again. A quick glance at Alexius suggested he hadn’t heard.

“Since I’m not worthy of being kidnapped,” she said, “and I’m fairly sure the
ludus
is in the opposite direction, where are we going?”

“I’m taking you to get something to eat. Your stomach makes a great disturbance when it’s hungry.”

She gasped. “How rude of you to mention it.”

He laughed. “I’m a lowly gladiator. I can’t be expected to know decent manners.”

“I don’t think you’re lowly,” she said, her voice infused
with sincerity. “Neither did all those other people we left near the amphitheater.”

His brow furrowed as he studied her with an intensity that made her squirm. She couldn’t think of anything inappropriate she’d said, but then maybe she’d been too forward. Two of her betrothals had been broken because she’d dared to give her opinion. She’d offered Alexius a compliment, but the male mind was a strange thing. On more than one occasion she’d been under the impression that a particular conversation had gone well, only to learn later she’d caused some offense worthy of shaking her already precarious social position.

“Is the way much farther?” she asked, nervous she’d hit upon yet another one of the subjects that soured his usually pleasant demeanor.

“Not much.”

“Do you think we might be able to find some milk there to feed this cub? I’m worried. He must be hungry.”

“Possibly. My friends who own the
thermopolium
where we’ll eat have a cat that gave birth a few weeks ago. Maybe she’ll be generous.”

Relieved and hopeful, Tibi marched on with renewed purpose.

“It’s this way,” Alexius said. They made a sharp right turn and crossed a small bridge before following yet another winding alley.

Tibi switched the cub to her right arm and shook the stiffness from her left. “You’d best not leave me. I’ll never find my way out of this maze.”

“A safe return is your incentive to be good. Your reputation does precede you.”

“Does it?” She cringed. “Did you learn of my misdeeds from your many admirers? My sister delights in
informing me that I’m the cause of much debate and laughter behind closed doors.”

“It pains me to agree with the shrew, but in this case Tiberia is correct.”

“What…what have you heard?” she asked, forcing the words through a stranglehold of humiliation.

“Little I can credit.”

“No?”

“From what I can gather, you turn into Medusa once the sun sets.”

She glared at him, unable to find the smallest kernel of humor in a subject that had caused her years of grief. “Medusa is dead.”

“Her great-granddaughter then.”

Her lips tightened into a thin line. “Perhaps I’m innocent of all I’m accused of, and the stories about me have been exaggerated until no matter what I do I’m in the wrong.”

“That I can believe. The excuses I’ve heard for your ended betrothals are shallow at best. You’re in no way repellent, aloof
or
argumentative, but there is
something
about you that scares those spineless Romans to the soles of their sandals. If, as you claim, you’re not Medusa’s progeny, why are you such a pariah?”

The question made her fidget, completely stealing the pleasure she received from discovering that Alexius didn’t find her ugly or disagreeable. She wanted to tell him the truth, but what if he reacted like other men and labeled her unnatural? To her chagrin, she found his opinion of her mattered more than she cared to admit.

“You don’t have to tell me, Tibi. We all have secrets to keep.”

“It’s not that,” she said, instantly consumed with curiosity about the secrets
he
kept buried. No doubt she
and half of Rome would be scandalized if the full truth of his deeds were ever discovered. As for the other half of the city, they were probably participants in his exploits. Her shoulders slumped. She must be a terrible bore after all the excitement he was accustomed to.

“The source of my downfall has a fixed starting point. As you can imagine, it’s rather embarrassing. I did something when I was too young to realize the consequences of my actions or how unforgiving people can be.”

“How old were you?”

“Twelve.”

One silky black eyebrow arched. “You Romans are a strange lot.”

“No worse than you Greeks.”

“At least we don’t hold our young responsible for their transgressions for the rest of their lives.”

“I’ve yet to tell you what I did. Once you know you may agree with the others.”

“Did you kill someone?”

“No!”

“Then I can promise you I won’t agree with them. But I would like to hear the rest of your story.”

“All right. I’ll tell you, but only because I know you’ll harp on me until I do.” She waited for a denial, but none came. Her lips twitched at his expression of patient innocence. “As a child I wanted the love of my father more than anything. I failed time and time again to gain his notice unless he wished to berate me for not being the son he wanted. Being unable to change my gender, I decided that if his love was out of reach, perhaps I could earn his respect if I proved that I was as intelligent and able-bodied as any boy. To that end I excelled
at my studies and took up sports. Archery was my favorite.”

“I can see you with a bow and arrow.”

“You can?” Alexius was an expert with weapons. His insight into the subject intrigued her. “How so?”

“The bow is an elegant weapon. It suits you. Continue.”

Flattered that he found her elegant, she forgave him for his high-handed command and went on. “Those efforts were also to no avail. Father despised me still. After all I’d done to please him, his continued coldness angered and frustrated me.”

“I’m not surprised. I’d be angry, too.”

He agreed with her? The notion struck her as incredible when everyone else believed that only her father’s feelings held merit. They entered a large, sun-drenched square. People had gone indoors to avoid the heat of the day, leaving only the splash of the fountain to fill the stillness.

They stopped to let Calisto drink water from a trough in the corner of the square. Alexius relieved her of the cub, but with the pain of her past pressing down on her, she hardly noticed the missing weight.

“What happened next?”

She blinked. “Sorry?”

“You were angry at your father,” he said, his attention diverted to the tiny cub in his huge brown hand.

Amazed that such a large, fierce man possessed gentleness, she watched him dip his long, battle-scarred fingers into the fountain. He shook off the excess moisture and pressed a single drop of water to the cub’s tiny mouth. He repeated the action twice more until the panther’s small tongue darted out and licked his fingertip.

“Go on.” Silver eyes, fringed with thick black lashes,
caught her staring at him. Her face heated and her lungs locked. A slow, gratified smile curved his sculpted lips, exposing straight white teeth. “What did you do?”

Fearing that he understood the havoc coursing through her veins better than she did, she cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “The next year an archery contest was called for all the boys of the best families to show off their skills. Once again Father complained of his useless daughters and berated my mother for denying him a son to bring honor to the family. I wanted to prove him wrong so I sent one of our stable hands to secure a place for me under a false name. On the day of the event, I donned a short tunic and wore a cloak with a hood to cover my hair and keep my face shadowed. I was terrified of being caught at first, but I soon realized people see what they want to see. Everyone accepted my disguise without a qualm and assumed that I was just another one of the male archers.”