The Champion

  “Of all the things a gladiator loses—his freedom, his self-respect, all claims to his own life—the loss of his future is the most terrible, in my estimation. Gladiators learn not to think about tomorrow. They may say they have a plan for their lives, but they don’t—not really. Life is reduced to the days, sometimes the hours, between each battle. Time doesn’t exist beyond the next fight.”

  He reached over and brushed the pad of his calloused thumb across her cheek. “We… I looked for whatever I could find to fill the gaps and stifle the anger that haunts me. Over time, I accepted shallow, silly behavior like Livia’s as natural. I regret my stupidity. Even more, I’m sorry my failings created a chance for you to believe the worst of me and I earned your low opinion.”

  Her mixed feelings on his character untangled. She saw that the gossip she’d heard about him over the years had sullied her view of him. She understood that he wasn’t perfect—no one was—but only a man of innate integrity recognized his mistakes and learned to be a better person from them.

  The lines in his face appeared deeper than usual and the pain in his eyes showed her the loss of pride his confession cost him.

  “You don’t have to tell me anymore,” she said. “I understand.”

  The first few drops of rain started to fall. Tibi looked up at the dark sky just as cold water splashed on the tip of her nose. Alexius drew her over several steps beneath the covered walkway. The storm began in earnest. A loud waterfall of rain poured off the eaves between them and the lush greenery of the garden.

  Sensing that Alexius needed a deeper peace than she was capable of granting him, Tibi sought to offer him as much comfort as possible. Careful of his ribs, she wrapped her arms around his narrow waist.

  Alexius pulled her close. He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “Tibi, I walked through life asleep until you woke me up. If you’ll give me the chance, I’ll prove to you I’m a better man than you’ve had cause to believe until now.”

  Overcome with joy and uncertain that she could think more highly of him, Tibi held him as tight as she dared without hurting his wounded side. She racked her brain in an effort to understand why he cared for her opinion, but she found the reasons elusive. Encircled in his arms, she leaned back and searched his handsome face for answers. In his eyes, she saw the depth of his regrets. Hope mingled in the background as he waited for her reply.

  “Alexius, in all my life I’ve never met a man more honorable or worthy of my highest regard. I don’t understand why you need forgiveness from me, but I give it without reservation. I told you before that you can always count on me to be your friend.”

  “Friend?” Confusion—or was it disappointment—rippled across his face, but quickly fled. An ironic smile touched his lips. He let go of her and raked his hand through his thick black hair as he backed up a few steps. “Yes, we’re friends. That’s more than I have a right to expect.”

  The rain continued to splash against the garden stones. Tibi wondered what Alexius would say if she told him the whole truth—that she’d given him the right to expect every part of her days ago. She opened her mouth, ready to put her pride on the line and ask him when she saw him covertly rub his side.

  Realizing he’d been on his feet for far too long, she forgot her question and looped her arm with his. “Let’s take you back to your room. You need to lie down before you pull out your stitches.”

  Alexius studied her. He sighed. The tension of the last hour vanished as though the wind blowing through the garden had carried it away. He winked and grinned. “Will you tuck me in, my lady?”

  “Most certainly.” She smiled up at him, happy to see that something she’d said or done had brought her playful Greek back to her. “After all, what are friends for?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Excellent, Gaidrēs. Remember to account for the wind and keep your right foot planted a bit farther above the shooting line next time. You’ll be sure to hit the center,” Tibi instructed from the side of the archery field. “You’ll find the greater stability makes all the difference.”

  The huge Thracian corrected his stance, adjusted his aim to accommodate the strong northerly breeze and shot another arrow. Just as Tibi predicted, his arrow hit the middle of the target. The students on either side of Gaidrēs hooted and slapped him on the back to congratulate him, but Gaidrēs looked to her for approval. Tibi nodded in acknowledgment of the excellent shot. The Thracian had quickly become her favorite student. His natural ability with a bow and willingness to practice long after the other students finished each day made him a joy to teach.

  The bell rang, announcing the midday meal. Tibi praised her men for another day of work and complimented them on their improvements before wishing them a pleasant day, since Silo took up their training after the noon hour.

  She and the men stored their bows. She waited for Silo to lock up the arrows. Each day the instructor walked her back to the gate that led to Alexius’s private gardens.

  “The men are improving,” she said as they crossed the sandy field. “Another few days and several of them can start learning to shoot a moving target.”

  “Yes, they’re doing better than I anticipated,” Silo agreed. “You are a superb teacher. The men want to please you.”

  Delighted by the compliment, she bid Silo farewell and entered the peach orchard alone. The metal gate banged behind her. The chain rattled as Silo adjusted and locked the padlock.

  Hurrying down the shaded path, Tibi could barely contain her excitement over the special plans she’d made for the rest of the day. Velus assured her that Alexius was on the edge of climbing his chamber’s walls. Both steward and master needed space from the other before one of them ended up in pieces.

  In the two days since they’d cleared the air about Livia, Alexius had reordered the household accounts and devised a new record system for Velus to follow, regardless of the fact that the previous one worked without fail. Clearly, Alexius needed a distraction and she’d devised the perfect solution.

  Velus met her at the back door of the house. “Finally,” he said, making no attempt to hide his impatience. “If the master calls me upstairs one more time today, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

  Tibi bit back a smile at the fed-up dwarf and tried to appear sympathetic. “What happened?”

  “First, his porridge was too hot, then it was too cold,” Velus began the litany of Alexius’s complaints.

  “His pillows needed fluffing, then he needed to be shaved. Last month’s accounts didn’t meet his satisfaction. Apparently, I ordered too much pork, but not enough olives. This month I’m to order more fish sauce and, although he’s never mentioned it once in the three years I’ve served him, pickled cabbage is one of his favorite vegetables and Cook never provides enough of it.”

  “You poor man.”

  Velus frowned. “Believe me, I never thought of myself as a proponent of violence, but if you don’t remove him from here soon, as you promised, I may just poison him…although, taking a heavy mallet to his head gains more appeal by the moment.”

  “Is the basket ready?” she asked. “As soon as I change my tunic, we’ll be off and you can enjoy some peace and quiet.”

  “You are a goddess, my lady.” Velus pointed to a large woven basket on the table beside the door. “I packed the food—cabbage included—and the furs you asked for over an hour ago. I also arranged for a litter and hired the strongest men I could find to carry the both of you.”

  She bent down and kissed Velus on the cheek. “Thank you for caring about his comfort even when he’s driving you insane.”

  The steward reddened. Clearly pleased by her gratitude, he hid his pleasure behind a loud snort. “I didn’t act for his comfort, but mine. If he reinjures himself being bounced in a litter, who knows how long he’ll need to recuperate before I can be rid of him.”

  “Good point.” Hiding her laughter, Tibi headed upstairs to her room. She washed off the grime from the practice field
and changed into a clean tunic. With unusual care, she rebraided her hair and added a touch of jasmine oil behind each of her ears.

  Gathering her cloak, she ventured to Alexius’s room down the corridor. She hadn’t seen him since the night before and her heartbeat quickened in anticipation.

  She stopped in the doorway of his chamber. A swift glance showed the furs and pillows piled in a haphazard manner across his sleeping couch. A rickety tower of wax tables sat beside a mountain of scrolls on a desk in the corner. Alexius stood in front of the open bank of windows, his back to her. From behind, he looked vibrantly alive and not hurt in the slightest. The strong breeze ruffled his black hair. The black tunic and sandals he wore showed off his bronze skin. Engrossed in the action on the gladiator field below, he gave her time to simply drink in the beloved sight of him.

  “I take it you’re feeling better,” she said at the same time she knocked on the door frame. “Velus seems to think so, in any case.”

  Alexius faced her. “There you are, agape mou.”

  The endearment warmed her heart. She knew she should stop him from using it, but in truth she didn’t want him to.

  “I was watching you, but I lost track of your whereabouts when you left the field.”

  Encouraged by his welcoming smile, she crossed the threshold. “I came back to the house about half an hour ago.”

  He left the window and met her in the center of the room. “You were worth the wait. You look pretty enough to ravish.”

  She felt her face catch fire. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

  “I’m sorry. I forgot for a moment we’re just friends.”

  At a loss for a snappy reply, she asked, “Did I pass the test?”

  “What test?”

  “You said you were watching me on the field. Were you evaluating my training techniques.”

  “Yes, of course that’s what I was doing.” He shrugged. “Why not? I own the school. It’s my right to check on my teachers, no?”

  She’d asked a reasonable question. Why did he sound so defensive? “You need to do whatever you think is best as long as you spend plenty of time off your feet.”

  “I’ve been on my back long enough. Another hour and I was bound to grow roots.”

  “You and I both know you left your couch days ago.” She glanced at the tablets on the desk. “Did you finish going over your accounts?”

  “For the school and the household,” he grouched. “Velus might as well be an old woman the way he carries tales about me.”

  She fought a smile. “If it helps, he didn’t volunteer the information. I pried the ugly details out of him.”

  Unconvinced, he grunted. “I stayed in my room as long as I did because you insisted.”

  Tibi’s ears perked up at that. Since when did she have the power to influence his actions? “I care about your health.”

  His eyebrow arched. “You should. It’s your fault I’m in this condition.”

  “How so?” she demanded. “I didn’t stab you.”

  His lips tightened. She realized he’d given more information than he meant to and refused to say more. She changed the subject. “The physician—”

  “Left an hour ago.”

  “You can’t be healed after a mere six days.”

  “No, but I’m well enough. Tomorrow I’ll be back on the field. I need to show my face to the men or I’ll start to lose their respect.”

  She nodded in understanding. After being surrounded by gladiators for the past week, she’d learned quickly that they resembled wolves in need of a strong pack leader. “Very well. Tomorrow you return to training your men, but what of the rest of today? What shall we do?”

  “Anything but another round of latrunculi.”

  She hid a smile. “Why not? You might eventually win once if we play enough.”

  He ignored her.

  “I have a surprise for you, in fact.”

  That piqued his interest. “What kind of surprise?”

  “I’m not telling you. You’ll have to trust me.”

  “I already trust you. You are the one who doesn’t trust me.”

  “Not true, Alexius. I trust you more than anyone.” The confession startled her.

  “Since when?” he dared to ask, taking hold of her hands.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I think my instincts have always been on your side.”

  “That’s good to know.” His thumbs swept over her knuckles. “Now, about my surprise—”

  “Have you eaten today?”

  “No. I ordered a tray, but Velus has been grumpy of late and lax in his duties.”

  “Velus, grumpy? I can’t imagine why.”

  “I’m at a loss as well. He must be getting old.”

  She coughed to hide her laughter. “Maybe he’ll feel better tomorrow. As for today, I’m taking you somewhere special to me. The exact location is the surprise.

  We have to go by litter for most of the way, then there is a very short walk.”

  “I’m intrigued. When do we leave?”

  “We can go now if you’re ready. I asked Velus to pack a basket of food for us. You won’t have to go hungry.”

  “Ah, I see. You and my steward are in league together. Little wonder he didn’t care if I starved to death.”

  She mimicked one of his shrugs. “Poor baby. Shall we go?”

  “Of course,” he said, copying a tone she often used. He offered a slight bow and waved his open hand toward the door. “After you, my lady. Lead and I will follow.”

  Alexius watched the trees along the road through the gossamer drapes surrounding the litter. He shifted on the bench that comprised the transport’s seating arrangement and stretched his legs out on the planks in front of him. He resisted the need to rub his ribs as though his life depended on it. If Tibi suspected any discomfort on his part, she’d insist on returning to the ludus. In need of a change of scenery and intensely interested to see a place Tibi considered one of her favorites, he gritted his teeth against the constant shift and bounce of the litter that shot arrows of pain through his side.

  “It’s not much farther,” she assured him. “Would you like another pillow? Another blanket?”

  “I’m not an invalid.”

  “I never hinted that you were,” she said tolerantly. “I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable and I know you must be the way they’ve thrown us about in this litter.

  We might as well have ridden in a wagon with square wheels. Truth to tell, I’m starting to feel a bit nauseated.”

  He took hold of her hand, his impatience instantly soothed. “Lean on me and close your eyes. I’ll steady you.”

  “Your wound—”

  “Is on the other side. I promise you’re more concerned about it than I am.”

  A long moment passed before she gave in to his suggestion. The furs covering her lap shifted as she moved closer. She disengaged their hands and entwined her arm with his before resting her cheek against his shoulder.

  The contentment that settled around him filled him with unease. He hadn’t known this much peace in years. Facing the future without Tibi was bleak, no less than a torment. Casting the truth of their predicament from his mind was a constant temptation. He longed to give himself over to the unrestrained happiness she brought him, but only a fool would dare to forget Tibi wasn’t his or that, at most, she’d be with him just a few more days.

  Her weight shifted. From his window he’d seen her on the field at sunrise. She must be tired and falling asleep. Silo kept him apprised of her excellent teaching methods. Pride in her skill came easy to him.

  Enjoying the warmth of her pressed against his side, he moved his arm to cradle her closer. He leaned his head against the cushioned back of the litter and closed his eyes. For days, he’d been in a quagmire, desperately searching to find a way to make her his own. At every turn, an insurmountable barrier blocked his path.

  Even if he managed to convince her to marry below her station, ma
king her his wife was an impossibility. The law required her father’s consent for her to legally wed. Obtaining Tiberius’s blessing for a marriage between his daughter and a gladiator was as probable as the sun refusing to rise.

  The litter swayed and bounced. He shifted in his seat. For her own sake and because he respected her too much, he wouldn’t ask her to be his mistress, no matter how much he wanted her.

  “What’s troubling you?” She lifted her head. “Is it your side? Perhaps we shouldn’t have left home.”

  Wishing she did consider the ludus her home, he looked down into her beautiful face. Her dark eyes were clouded with slumber. “It’s not my side. I have other concerns on my mind.”

  “Then tell me.” She stifled a yawn. “I’ll try my best to help you if I can.”

  He brushed a kiss across her forehead. “I want something of great value to me, but I don’t know how to get it.”

  “The item is not for sale?”

  “The owner won’t sell it to me.”

  “What is it? A plot of land? A stallion?”

  “More like a mare.” He winced, remembering that she’d denied being a horse the morning she came to him.

  “Ah. Does the owner refuse to sell her to you specifically, or to anyone in general?”

  “To me specifically.”

  “How mean of him.” She settled back against his chest and mused out loud. “Too bad you’re not a thief, you could steal the animal.”

  “I’ve thought about it, believe me.” He pressed his nose against her soft hair and breathed in the sweet perfume of jasmine.

  She swatted his chest. “I was jesting.”

  “I know.” He pressed his lips to her temple. “Don’t worry. Taking what I want wouldn’t work in this instance. Neither will fighting for her.”

  The litter swayed sharply as they turned a corner. “If the owner won’t sell the horse to you, perhaps he’d allow someone else to purchase the mare. In turn, you could buy her from the second party.”

  “That’s a fine idea, but I fear anyone in a position to buy this particular mare would never relinquish her.”