The Gladiator Prince (27 page)

At the stables, he selected a stout mare from the ten or so horses and grabbed a blanket to throw on her back. When he reached for the tackle, a voice startled him.

“Going out for a ride on this fine night?”

He glowered at Hasani who was leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded and an irritating smirk on his lips. “Go back to the house,” Thane snarled.

“I am afraid that is quite impossible. While I would love to let you flounder around on your own, I have made a promise to my beautiful Phaedra.”

Thane stopped and glared at him. “She is not yours, Hasani. I would rather see her attached to a slaver than to you. You stay away from her.”

He took a menacing step toward the pirate, but Hasani simply smiled. “What business is it of yours? She is a
free
woman, slave. You have no more sway over her than… the crone at Thrasea’s front door.”

Thane was on him in less than two steps, but the pirate surprised him. He darted out of the door, moved several feet away from him then crouched with his hands out. “I have no doubt you can beat me hand to hand, gladiator, but what of blade to blade.” He pulled the long Egyptian blade from his side and threw it from one hand to the other, back and forth twice.

Thane yanked the
gladius
out of its leather sheath and saw it twinkle in the firelight. He did not want to hurt Hasani, but a little humility would teach the pirate manners. He stopped the smile creeping to his lips by moving his jaw. “You do not have your cutthroats at your back, Egypt. Do you honestly think you can best me with a sword? I am trained, you are not.”

“Perhaps.” Hasani laughed and twisted the blade first one way then the other, twirling it high in the air, catching it then spinning it around his body so quickly it was barely visible. Thane was impressed; perhaps he had misjudged the man. It seemed that Hasani was definitely more than he presented of himself.

They circled each other inside the grassy patch outside the stables. Thane’s muscles tensed like the fine sinew of a bowstring. He observed the pirate carefully, trying to decipher his style, the direction of his attack, the strength of his defenses, but it was impossible. As simple as Hasani was to judge unarmed, with a weapon he was as enigmatic as a statue. His face was soft with a slight smile, yet his eyes shone like hardened steel. Apparently, in swordplay Hasani was all business. Had they met under different circumstances, Thane thought he would probably like the man very much, but not now.

With a warrior’s cry Thane made the first move, rushing Hasani, hoping to take him off guard. The Egyptian dodged the thrust and got under Thane, but the gladiator struck the sword with his
gladius
, sending a peeling ring of iron across the courtyard. Jumping back, he waited for Hasani to make a move.

With a quiet flash of his sword, Hasani danced across the grass and swung his leg up so quickly, Thane was too late to dodge. The sandal caught him on the lip, smashing his face to the left and making him stumble to one knee. Instinctively, he lifted his sword into a defensive position just in time; the Egyptian blade skidded down the steel, spewing hot sparks down onto his hand. Before Hasani could recover, Thane grabbed his legs and hauled them forward. Hasani went down onto his back with a loud roar.

He brought his sword across his body to stay the gladiator’s blade and held it there, apparently to catch his breath. Thane tasted salty blood inside his mouth and spat to the side, pushing down on Hasani with all his strength to get the man to drop his weapon. However, the pirate did not budge.

“By the gods! Are you insane?”

Both men turned their heads to see Phaedra standing there with her hands spread and her face awash with anger, Bahar smirking at her side.

“Get up! Now! This is no time for playing!” she spat at them.

Thane released Hasani and stepped back, ashamed he had let the man get to him. He knew better. Hasani jumped up and brushed off his tunic, sheathing the sword and bowing low to Phaedra. “Forgive us, my beauty. We are, after all, grown men and should not squabble like children. I do, however, want to point out… he started it.”

Bahar broke out laughing, and Phaedra shot her sister a withering glance. “Shame on you,” she said to Hasani then swept her gaze to Thane. “Shame on both of you!” With that, she stomped back into the house.

“This is not over,” Thane hissed through his teeth to Hasani as he sheathed his sword and followed her.

“I certainly hope not.” Hasani smacked the gladiator on the back then raced to the door. Thane was right behind him. He knew it would be impossible to go on his own now. Leaving Hasani alone with Phaedra was simply out of the question.

Chapter XXXI

When they were settled, Thane told Thrasea to read the letter to them all. He folded it neatly at the end and searched their faces. “There it is. Which do we tackle first?”

“The brothel, of course,” Thane said, sitting back and keeping an eye on Hasani.

“I concur,” the pirate said.

“It will be dangerous,” Thrasea said looking worried. “She is a very powerful
delicatae
and is not to be under estimated. Her resources are endless as is her vanity and her wits. She may not release the girl, even for the gold I have given you. It is said Prisca has an army of very powerful warriors around the mansion where she keeps her girls. Her prostitutes are known as some of the most influential in the world. As I said, it is rumored Prisca herself has Nero’s ear, though now…” He looked down at his hands and shook his head. “I am certain his madness has broken even that alliance. May the gods preserve us all.”

“I will go to Prisca,” Thane stated flatly.

“Not if I have anything to say…” Phaedra started, but Thane held up his hand.

“I have no negotiating skills to release my little Mabyn. You must do it for me.”

Phaedra stopped, finding Thane’s eyes more compelling than any speech. “It would be an honor. You must not go alone…”

“I will go with him!” Bahar called out.

Phaedra sat back and tried to fight the prejudice that always clouded her vision about her sister. Years of conditioning told her that Bahar was a woman, something outside the realm of misadventure and brawling. Yet, Bahar had proven herself time and again. Turning her eyes to Thane with a plea, she said, “Perhaps you should…”

Thane nodded. “I could use your sword, Bahar. Thank you. You will do exactly as I say, understood?”

Bahar nodded and placed her hand on the hilt of her sword. A pang of fear almost made Phaedra withdraw her approval, but she put it down, knowing that Bahar could take care of herself.

“Marvelous!” exclaimed Hasani rubbing his hands together, his eyes twinkling. He plopped down next to Phaedra on the bench and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Then I will go to help Phaedra.”

Thane’s face darkened, and his lips got tight. “The senator will go with Phaedra. You will go with me.”

Hasani motioned to Bahar and stood up. “The two of you can handle one little whore. I think my vast negotiating skills are needed to free your youngest.”

“Not even if you were the last man standing. Get your cloak.” Thane crossed to Phaedra and lifted her from the bench. “Mabyn is a strong girl, a smart girl. Do not make the mistake of thinking she is young. Her life has not been easy.” He bowed his head and took a breath. “She will not trust you, not at first. Tell her…” He lifted his eyes and Phaedra saw a kind of softness that came with a devotion that no lover would ever know. “Tell her that her prince has come to fulfill his promise.” Pulling Phaedra to his chest, he kissed her then held her in his arms. His racing heart against her ear was the only thing betraying the depth of his feeling. “Tell her that he requires her courage for a bit longer. She will understand that.”

Phaedra’s voice cracked. “I will. I promise.”

He kissed her forehead and followed Hasani and Bahar out the door.

Chapter XXXII

Thane craned his neck to take in as much as he could of the high stone fence. It ran as far as he could see to the right and left. At the corner was a large intricately woven gate of rod iron and silver. Naked gold figurines danced between the bars in an elaborate game of tag where the women were round and sensual and the men endowed with colossal phalluses.

Perhaps thirty or forty men struggled for attention around the entrance, most turned away by bare breasted exquisite black women dressed as
Afrikan
warriors. A few men, those who obviously had the coin to pay for admission, were allowed in with great deference.

“I am going in alone,” Thane whispered to them from behind a large statue of Julius Caesar. He took off his sword and handed it to Bahar.

“I understand your need to charge in on your own, but there is perhaps a better way,” said Hasani without too much enthusiasm.

Thane glared at him then turned to Bahar. “Make certain he does not follow me, on your oath. When I find a path we can all follow, I will come back…” he glanced back at Hasani, “and not before. I will not risk Bahar’s life unnecessarily, Egypt. Understood?”

A half smile twisted the right side of Hasani’s mouth, and he lifted the opposite eyebrow. “If you just listen to what…”

“Understood?” Thane said more forcibly, taking a step toward Hasani.

The man lifted both hands and smiled broadly. “As you wish, Prince. Who am I to interfere with your heroics? By all means, please guide the way.”

That same violent urge to punch Hasani made Thane fist his hands, but he controlled himself. He would deal with the Egyptian later. “Stay here and watch for my signal,” he growled.

Thane ran across the wide boulevard in front of the mansion and merged with the men outside the fence. He glanced back once to see Hasani holding Bahar back then whispering in her ear.

“You are a big one,” a deeply accented voice said in his ear.

He whirled around to confront a woman who met him eye to eye. She was the color of midnight with black narrowed eyes. The costume she wore was designed to augment her
Afrikan
heritage, and, though she was bare from the waist up except for a collar around her throat where long exotic feathers hung, the muscles of her arms and legs bulged beautifully from her graceful form. In her hand was a tall spear with a flat broad head, also encircled with feathers. A long whip wrapped her thin waist with dark braided leather, ending in three long delicate thongs, each tied off at the end with a brightly colored bead that dangled at her side. Her skin was oiled and her face plain except for bright red lip rouge. She smelled of myrrh and lavender. The effect was definitely stimulating, and Thane found his rod responding on its own. The thought of his daughter trapped in this prison of debauchery quelled it instantly.

“I wish to enter,” he said.

“As do all these gentlemen here. Have you coin to trade?”

Thane took the leather bag from his belt and jingled it for her. “Gold. As much as you need.”

Bright white teeth flashed when she parted her lips to smile. “Handsome, well endowed, and rich; the mistress will be pleased.” She lifted a slender arm and pressed back the other men who were vying for her attention. A single bang of the spear on the ground sent most of them back, but one who seemed very inebriated, pushed to the front and fumbled toward her. In a swift move that dazzled even Thane’s well-trained eyes, the woman swept a foot behind the man’s legs, and he went down onto his back. The spear twirled once and stopped mere inches from his quivering throat.

“Go home to your wife,” the warrior hissed.

Terrorized, the man scrambled to his feet to the howls of laughter from the others and stumbled down the street.

The woman took Thane’s arm, led him through the gate without comment then released him just inside.

“Whatever you imagine you will have in this place. Discourtesy, of any kind, will be dealt with swiftly and with finality. Harm no one within these walls, take nothing with you when you leave, and you will be treated as the prince you are.” She turned abruptly and left him in the garden.

Thane watched after her, concerned that perhaps his identity was already known. However, at his back he heard similar words from a tall female guard to another man. She called him prince as well. He shook his head at the irony and moved forward.

The garden was immense, filled with trees of all kinds, flowering bushes, great green lawns and acres of running vines. Fountains shaped like tall phalluses lined the white chalk path leading to the mansion itself. The open front door looked as if it were gilded in pure gold. The mansion itself was built out of massive blocks of radiant white marble, so finely joined you could barely see the lines between the stones. It seemed to glow in the thousands of lanterns and torches scattered through the grounds.

He moved down the garden following other men who seemed to know where they were going. When he walked through the massive archway, he had to stop to gaze upon the gallery before him.