The Gladiator (18 page)

Or found myself in a brothel.
Pelonia flicked an imaginary piece of lint from her tunic, while Tiberia enjoyed her treat. “Don't speak ill of Caros. You don't know him. He's an honorable man.”

“Yes, honorable enough to enslave you and
honorable
enough to refuse your freedom.” Tiberia snorted. “I don't understand how you can defend him. Has he threatened you? Or worse, has he beguiled you?”

“Neither,” she denied a little too vehemently. “But I've
come to know him over the past fortnight and I…I think I understand him.”

“Not a difficult task, I'm sure.” Tiberia brushed the crumbs from her fingers. “A mindless barbarian can't be too difficult to read.”

“Tiberia, stop.”

Her cousin shrugged, unbothered by the warning. “What's this about a fortnight? Is the dolt unable to count as well? He claimed you've been here almost three weeks, not two.”

Pelonia prayed for patience and tamped down her aggravation. She was finally in the company of Tiberia again. The last thing she wanted was to cause an argument, though she'd forgotten how opinionated her cousin could be. “Caros is a successful man of business. His sums are fine. I don't recall much of my initial time here. Uncle Marcus beat me senseless. I was unconscious the first several days. After I awoke, it took another week to get me on my feet and recovered enough to be useful.”

Tiberia's face puckered with remorse. Her fingers clenched the ample folds of her scarlet
stola.
All traces of flippancy disappeared. “Tell me of Marcus's treachery. Annia shared what she knew with me before I sent her home and came here.”

Pelonia told her the full extent of Marcus's duplicity.

“I was a fool.” Anger radiated off the younger woman. “I believed him when he claimed you'd been kidnapped and welcomed him into my family as a true relative. Knowing he betrayed you into slavery is heinous enough. Realizing he did so within hours of your dear father's murder has me tempted to hire an assassin. I'm certain the world would be a far better place without an insect of his ilk.”

Despite the painful reminder of her father's death, Pelonia bit her lip to suppress a chuckle. “I admit the thought of
revenge holds a great deal of appeal, especially if Marcus's punishment is slow and painful, but let's leave the matter in God's hands, shall we? I don't want you guilty of murder on my account.”

Tiberia sighed and a slight smile played about her lips. “I know you don't mean it. If a fly were dying you'd look to make it more comfortable in its last moments. But it does my heart good to see you've retained some of the playfulness I love most about you.”

Not wanting to spoil the reunion with more woeful talk, she squeezed Tiberia's hand. “I'm truly glad to see you, cousin. I don't think I'll ever be able to express how much.”

“Of course you are. Even if you didn't love me so well, weeks enslaved in a gladiator
ludus
must have set your teeth on edge. I imagine you'd be pleased to see any unscarred and smiling face.”

“You're probably right.” A sidelong glance at her cousin's indignant expression made her laugh. “In truth, I've had little exposure to the school. I've helped in the kitchen, but my chores have been contained to the garden for the most part. Caros says it's too dangerous for me to be around the men.”

“Please
don't say any more. I can't abide the thought of you toiling like…like a common
slave!
By the gods, I think I'm going to be sick to my stomach.”

More of Pelonia's laughter filled the sitting room. She made a show of examining her cousin's soft, unblemished hands. “Nary a mark in sight. You are a senator's wife for certain.”

“I'm glad you're amused, but seeing you in this shapeless rag of a garment is a travesty. The moment we leave this place I'm taking you to the Forum. We're going to replenish your wardrobe with the finest silks available. You always had superior taste. I want your opinion on a new set of
stolas
for me as well. In fact, shopping will be the extent of your labor for at least a month.”

“It sounds grand,” she said, realizing she lied. Certain she'd be bored senseless without Caros to spar with, she did her best to deny the twinge of panic she felt at the thought of not seeing him every day. She forced a bright smile. “Tell me of your new life. Is marriage as blissful a state as you wished for?”

“It's even better.” With a wistful sigh, Tiberia fell against the back of the padded couch. “Antonius is all I've ever dreamed of in a husband. He treats me with honor and more kindness in a day than Father ever gave me or Tibi in a decade.”

“How is your sweet sister?” she asked, delighted by her cousin's blessed state. “Tibi must be, what, thirteen or fourteen by now?”

“Fifteen last June.” Tiberia scowled. “Honestly, I don't know what Mother and Father are going to do with the brat. When she doesn't have her nose in a scroll, she's spouting philosophy and forever arguing with their houseguests—and mine. She refuses to marry and her reputation has preceded her until no suitable man will risk taking her on. Lately, she's threatening to wear a man's short tunic and cut her gorgeous flaxen hair. I told her, no matter what she does to fashion herself as a son, Father will pay her no more mind than he ever has. Thank the gods, Antonius is a wise and patient man or he'd forbid her presence to darken our door.”

“I'll pray for her,” she said, concerned for her younger cousin. Having been blessed with the best of fathers, she despised the thought of Tibi suffering from a lack of paternal affection.

“Yes, do. Perhaps your God will succeed with her where mine have failed.”

“I'm praying for you, too, you know.”

“You needn't bother. I'm pleased with Juno's blessings on my house thus far.”

Pelonia nodded, mindful of her cousin's resistance to Christ. Tiberia would come to Christ when she was ready. If she'd learned one thing from her father and Uncle Marcus's relationship it was that a heart commitment to the Lord couldn't be forced.

“Enough about me, Pelonia. I want to hear about you. What is the cause for this queer sensation I get when I watch you and the
lanista
together? He doesn't behave toward you like I'd expect him to treat a slave, yet he claims he owns you and refuses to release you to my care. For your part, you defend him as though he's your lover.”

Flushing with embarrassment, she prayed Tiberia remained ignorant of just how much she did love her supposed master. At a loss of how to explain her unusual relationship with Caros, she left the couch and feigned interest in a figurine of a centaur atop the side table. “As I said before, he's a good man. He's treated me well.”

“Are you saying he hasn't seduced you?”

She shook her head. Eyeing one of the large ostrich fans in the corner, she wished for one small enough to cool her hot face. “No, he hasn't.”

“Nor raped you?” Tiberia asked delicately.

“No! I told you he's an
honorable
man.”

“The gods be praised again.” Tiberia rose from the couch, her
stola'
s heavy folds of red silk falling to her feet. “Mother told me it was much easier to find a virgin a suitable husband and I believe she's right. With your beauty and the dowry I'm certain Antonius will bestow on you, I've no doubt we'd find a decent man regardless, but I want you to have a husband of the highest caliber.”

Pelonia ran her finger down the smooth figurine's cool
marble spine. She wanted Caros or no one. “I don't believe I'll ever marry.”

“Of course you will. Don't you want children? What of having your own home and social position? You wrote once not long ago telling me how you wished with all your heart to find a loving mate. What's happened to change your mind?”

I've given my heart to a man I can't have.

Gaius passed the sitting room's door. Intrigued by the steward's curiously quick pace, Pelonia stepped out into the atrium. Moments later a deep male voice rumbled across the entryway.

“Antonius!” Tiberia exclaimed, rushing into the atrium. “He must have received my message. I've every confidence he'll see the entire matter between you and the
lanista
resolved in no time at all.”

Following her cousin into the entryway, she spied Tiberia's new husband, his white, purple-edged toga proclaiming his senatorial status. A hair's breadth shorter than her cousin, Antonius possessed a lean, muscular frame, a prominent blade of a nose and intense dark eyes. His regal posture and the haughty jut of his chin proclaimed his innate confidence.

Here's a man who can force Caros to free me.

The happiness brought by Tiberia's reemergence in her life began to dwindle. Why, after weeks of praying for a reunion with her family, did she suddenly wish they'd never found her?

“Come, Pelonia. Meet my magnificent husband.”

Her legs heavy with guilt from her disloyal thoughts, she did her best to ward off the cloud of dejection descending upon her. As was custom, she inclined her head. “It is an honor to meet you, Senator.”

“No, the honor is mine, my lady,” he said without a hint of falseness. “My fair wife has been overwrought in her concern for you. To claim Tiberia's high regard is no easy task and I dare say she favors no one higher than you.”

“Thank you, Senator, but I must respectfully disagree.” She grinned at her cousin who stood with her arm entwined with her husband's. “You are the person she values most in the world. She's sung your praises since last spring in her letters to me and even more so since her arrival here this morning.”

The newlyweds exchanged an intimate glance of mutual admiration. Antonius looked back to Pelonia. “From my wife's message earlier, I understand the
lanista
is under a false assumption about you. I've met Viriathos on more than one occasion. I don't think there's cause for alarm. He's a clearheaded and reasonable man. Don't fret any longer. I'll have you freed within the hour.”

C
aros prowled the confines of his study, cursing the Fates for delivering Tiberia to his door. Outside, the air grew ripe with the promise of an early fall storm, but the most powerful squall was no match for the tempest of fury and fear swirling inside him.

Like a chain squeezing him ever tighter, the possibility of losing Pelonia threatened to choke the heart from his chest. If the senator's wife had her way, all the vows he'd made to keep Pelonia within his reach would be shattered.

“Ahem.”

His steward stood framed in the doorway. The old man's uncharacteristic nervousness knotted the cord of muscle across Caros's shoulders and up his neck. His teeth on edge, not that it took much to irritate him since the invasion of Pelonia's pugnacious cousin an hour ago, he prepared to hear the worst.

“Don't dither like an old woman, Gaius. What have you to say? Has Hades arrived yet?”

His eyes downcast, Gaius nodded. “The senator is waiting in the courtyard, Master. Shall I show him in?”

Caros uttered another fervent oath. A frequent guest of Adiona's lavish parties, the senator and Caros had met on previous occasions. The head of his powerful family since his father's death the previous year, Antonius Tacitus was one of the few men in Rome with enough influence to see Pelonia released whether Caros forbade it or not.

His mouth pressed in a firm line, he threw himself into the chair behind his desk. Once he'd recognized Tiberia in the garden, he'd expected the tall beauty's husband to make an appearance sooner or later.

By the gods!
Why
did Pelonia's cousin and the senator's new wife have to be one and same?

Gaius fidgeted with the rope belt around his waist. “He told Pelonia he'll have her freed within the hour.”

Caros's brow arched at the man's gall. “How arrogant of him. And how like a politician to make a promise he can't keep.”

“Are you certain he speaks false, Master?”

He wasn't certain at all. He surged back to his feet, his temper as black as the approaching storm clouds. Like all good politicians, the senator could be a crafty swine when it suited him, but in most cases he used his talents for the good of all Romans. His genuine concern for the masses had won him great popularity. He was respected as much by the common plebs as his own patrician class. His marriage less than a month ago had been a grand occasion with much of Rome's aristocracy in attendance.

Caros stopped by his desk and picked up a stylus, rolling the slender writing implement between his palms. The fact that Pelonia was a member of the senator's family and, by rights, under the powerful man's protection, shot a dart of cold panic through his veins.

God, please don't let me lose her.

The stylus snapped between his fingers just as a harsh blast of thunder shook the walls. Wind whipped at the curtains, yet Gaius continued fluffing the blue pillows on the couch as if spring had come to call.

“I trust you don't plan to scrub the floors before you fetch the guest?”

“No, Master.” The steward lit a bowl of incense on the mantel.

The sweet aroma invaded Caros's nostrils and made his head ache. “Enough fussing,” he snapped. “Fetch Antonius and take that noxious incense with you.”

Moments later, Gaius returned with the senator. Caros wondered if the other man had worn his ceremonial toga as a silent means of intimidation. He forced a smile. “Senator, it's been overlong since I saw you last. Allow me to congratulate you on your recent marriage and welcome you to my home.”

His eyes shining with excitement, the senator gave a vigorous nod of his head, seemingly oblivious to Caros's less-than-eager manner. “As always, it's an honor to meet with you,
lanista.
You know I've been an admirer of your accomplishments for years.”

Caros murmured his thanks.

“Much to the chagrin of my new wife, your champions continue to draw me to the arena much too often. In fact, I ventured to the Colosseum just a few days ago because I thought your men were scheduled to fight. I was disappointed when I found I'd gone the wrong day. To add salt to the wound, the executions lasted longer than usual. I had other unavoidable business to attend to and in the end, missed the afternoon's entertainment altogether.”

“I recall the day you speak of.” Caros indicated a chair in front of his desk for Antonius to sit down. “I was there
for the end of the executions. The mob seemed pleased enough by the wolves and their prey.”

“True, but the punishment of a few deviants doesn't excite me. I prefer the combat of trained men. Otherwise, all one has is carnage and what pleasure can be found in common gore?”

“None, I suppose.” Noting Antonius considered Christians deviants, Caros waited for the senator to make himself comfortable before claiming his own place behind the desk. “As a
lanista,
I'm gratified to know there are still a few spectators interested in more than raw butchery and blood.”

“Of course. A true connoisseur understands a gladiator's greatness is in his technique and stamina. Since you are their teacher, it's little wonder your men are so magnificent to watch.” The senator arranged his toga to flaunt its wide purple edge to best advantage. “However, you must know I'm here to discuss an even more important, though less enjoyable, subject than the games.”

The rain came down in earnest. He nodded. “I assumed as much.”

“My wife says she's spoken to you about her cousin.”

His fingers dug into the arms of his chair. “Yes, she's quite adamant I free Pelonia and negate my claim on her.”

“It seems only right. You must admit there's been an error concerning her presence here. I assured her you're a reasonable man—”

“You were mistaken…at least where that particular slave is concerned.”

“I see.” Antonius pursed his lips. “Surely you understand my wife and her cousin are closer than sisters. You must realize Pelonia can't stay here any longer.”

“Pelonia is well cared for. There's no reason for her to leave.”

“You jest,” the senator scoffed in disbelief. “In the absence of her uncle, the girl is under my care, my protection. No member of
my
family will ever serve as a slave.”

“The three thousand denarii I paid for her says otherwise. And as I reminded your wife, I broke no laws when I purchased Pelonia. What grounds, other than your pride, do you have for attempting to wrest her from me?”

The senator gawked at him with bug-eyed dismay. “Why so much? Are you mad?”

Caros shrugged. “Perhaps. People have said as much on more than one occasion.”

“I believe it.” The senator considered the information while he strummed his fingers on the desktop. His previous amicability was replaced with a flintlike gleam in his eyes. With a wave of his hand, he seemed to dismiss Caros's claims. “It matters not. This is a question of family honor and my wife's happiness. I'll pay whatever your price up to double your original cost, plus fifty denarii to reimburse what you've paid for the girl's food and upkeep.”

“As much as it pains me to disappoint you or your lovely wife, there's no price worth the loss of Pelonia. She's mine. I intend to keep her.”

“She's not a bone for us to fight over like a pack of hyenas,” Antonius derided.

“No, she's the fairest prize imaginable.”

Dawning flared in the senator's gaze. “You're in love with her,
lanista.”

He didn't deny it.

“You can't marry her,” Antonius said, his tone matter-of-fact. “And it's impossible for her to continue on here as if she's a mistress. Her father was a citizen. A woman of Pelonia's stature must wed a worthy and like individual. That is, unless you've prostituted her or passed her among your men.”

“What I've done with my slave is none of your concern.”

Adopting a haughty air, the senator sat back and glowered. “What have you done to her?”

“I've treated her with respect.”

Antonius looked doubtful. “Have you used her for your own pleasure?”

“What do you think?” Caros began to see a way out of the mire. Given time, Antonius was shrewd enough to deduce a girl with a questionable reputation was certain to become a family embarrassment. Pelonia was no matron to be excused of having other lovers. Any man Antonius deemed worthy enough to join his family's ranks would want an untouched bride—or at least one not sullied by a lowly gladiator.

“I suppose it was too much to hope you'd kept from spoiling her. Pelonia is beautiful. What man wouldn't try her if given half a chance?”

Caros gripped the cool wooden back of his chair. He glared in warning. “I assume a happily married one.”

“Of course. That goes without saying.”

“Of course,” he said flatly. “I'll consider this discussion closed. Pelonia is mine and it's easier for all concerned if she stays here with me.”

“I wish it were that simple.” Antonius shook his head. “I'm afraid I can't abandon her here. Given you're not married, I doubt you'll understand, but I've no wish to fall into my wife's bad graces over an issue as trivial as this.”

“It's not trivial to me.”

“I'm sorry, but my own comfort comes first.” The politician in Antonius rose to the fore. “The simple fact is this. Either you release Pelonia into my care or I'll take you to court. I have many friends there and many favors to call in if necessary. Who do you think will win the case?”

A nerve began to tick in Caros's jaw. The injustice of
the threat galled him. He clinched his fists, calculating the ease and swiftness of snapping the senator's neck. “What of Pelonia? A trial will turn into a spectacle. You seem overly concerned by appearances. Have you no care for her reputation?”

“That's rich coming from you.” Antonius's snide laugh raised the hackles on the back of Caros's neck. “You have the power to save her name or ruin it,
lanista.
Thus far, no one important knows she's been a slave in a gladiatorial school. If the gods are kind, we might be able to salvage her yet. Force me to take you to court, and…” Antonius shrugged eloquently, then stood to leave. “It's up to you how we proceed from here. Either have Pelonia delivered to my home by tomorrow morning or meet me in court at the ninth hour midweek. If you care for her, as I believe you do, release her into the arms of her family. Allow her to recover from the tragic circumstances responsible for bringing her here and wed the kind of respectable man she deserves.”

Antonius swept from the room, leaving Caros to contemplate the pounding rain and his less-than-acceptable options.

 

“You can't be serious!” Tiberia wailed in distraught exclamation. “Pelonia
must
leave with us tonight, husband. Who knows what that miserable cur will do to her if she's forced to stay another night in his clutches?”

“I'll be fine,” Pelonia said, exchanging an uncomfortable glance with the all-too-perceptive senator. “Caros won't harm me.”

“You don't know what he'll do for certain.” Tiberia began to pace, her hands gesticulating to stress her point. “He's a seasoned competitor and a violent man. He hasn't faced the threat of losing you before. Up to this point he may have been long-suffering where you're concerned, but who's to
say his patience won't snap? We really must see you safe before another tragedy befalls you.”

“I think it's best if I leave in the morning,” Pelonia insisted, determined to speak with Caros and promise to return to visit him. “The men have come to an agreement. Do you want your husband to break his word?”

“Oh, Antonius,” Tiberia said, her face pinched and mournful. A man's word was his bond. “Why didn't you bargain for her release today instead of tomorrow?”

“I thought it best.” The senator's voice conveyed his absolute certainty. “If I believed for one moment your cousin faced potential harm, she'd be leaving with us now.”

“I don't like it.” Tiberia pouted. “How can anyone expect me to leave her here when I've just found her again.”

Antonius clasped her upper arms in a soothing manner. “The simple fact remains the
lanista
owns your cousin. You must brace yourself for the worst. If he chooses to meet me in court, Pelonia may not come home for several days.”

“He's not that stupid, surely?” Tiberia asked Pelonia.

“He's not stupid at all.” She tried not to let Tiberia's constant stream of snide remarks about Caros bother her. Tiberia's vehemence stemmed from loyalty. Her cousin was acting out of love in wanting to see her swift release. The younger girl had no way of knowing her main concern at the moment was not for herself but for Caros and how shaken he must feel.

Guilt snapped at Pelonia for the endless anxiety she'd caused her cousin. By rights, loyalty belonged to her family, not the master who intended to keep her enslaved. She should be as eager to go with them as they were to take her home. Yet, the silken bonds of love kept her more firmly tied to Caros than the strongest iron shackle. Yes, she craved freedom, but the cost of leaving Caros suddenly seemed a precipitous price to pay.