The Champion

  “What do you mean?”

  “The master was livid this past week while she was gone. He wanted her punished and beating the slaves wouldn’t do. If she’d been here, who knows, but as it is, he had too many days with nowhere to release his anger.”

  Alexius jerked. Was he capable of this much harm if he kept his fury bottled inside him?

  “We need to leave,” Ismene said. “The lady’s maid will return soon and the dogs will be loosed.”

  “I can’t—not yet.”

  “You have to. If you’re caught here, these bruises aren’t the worst of what she’ll endure.”

  Unwilling to let Tibi suffer any further, he bent to brush a kiss across her cheek. “I’m coming for you, agape mou. Trust in me. In just a few hours I’ll be back to take you home.”

  Alexius didn’t bother to go back to the ludus. He marched up the steps of the senator’s palace and waited outside until sunrise when he was certain the steward would answer the door.

  The brass door knocker bearing the Tacitus family seal made a great ruckus under his influence. “Open up!” he demanded.

  “Go away!” said a male voice which Alexius assumed belonged to the steward. “Come back at a decent hour, or better yet tomorrow, and we’ll consider letting you in.”

  “I have important news concerning Lady Tiberia’s younger sister.”

  Curious silence prevailed on the other side of the door while he waited. His fingers clenched and unclenched as he contemplated the best way to remove the marble door from its brass hinges. Finally, he heard the muted rattle of keys and the slide of multiple metal locks. The door opened slowly. The sweet smell of incense was rife from the morning rituals.

  He pushed past the steward and into a circular entry ringed by armed slaves. Unconcerned by the half dozen swords glinting in the lantern light, he focused on the middle-aged steward. “Where is your master, the senator?”

  “I’m here.” Antonius stood at the top of a wide staircase, looking down his hawklike nose. Sharp, black eyes raked over Alexius as he descended the steps, his senatorial toga arranged to perfection. “Everyone knows of my love for the games. Normally, I’d be pleased to receive a great champion like you, Alexius, but not when I have meetings scheduled with my patrons within moments. Horace says you have news of my little sister. If so, speak it.”

  Not intimidated, Alexius stepped forward. “You’re to cancel your meetings and come with me. Tibi’s been caned on her father’s order. Tiberius respects you. You must see that she’s released into my care.”

  Tiberius scowled. “I’m not unconcerned, mind you, but what you ask is impossible. I have other matters just as pressing as Tibi’s welfare—perhaps more so.”

  “There is nothing in this world more important than Tibi!”

  The senator backed toward his armed slaves as far as possible without looking like a coward. “I’m in the midst of an important campaign.”

  A doomed one, Alexius thought. “Are you expected to win?” he asked, already aware of the answer.

  “The dice have yet to be cast.”

  “Which means you expect to lose.”

  The senator thrust back his shoulders and lifted his chin to a regal angle. “Perhaps, but I won’t give up without a fight. To fail to win the nomination for consul will be a signal to some that I’m weak and no longer enjoy the emperor’s favor, as I once did.”

  Alexius glanced around the circular entry, the ancestral statues and other trappings of senatorial power.

  “Your loss is your own fault, senator. Three years ago, the people loved their new man, but you forgot them in your quest to glorify yourself.”

  Color dusted the senator’s sharp cheekbones. “Even if you’re correct—and I’m not admitting you are—I know of no way to change that fact. There’s only so many babies I can kiss and hands I can shake for a nomination that takes place in a week.”

  His head aching from lack of food and sleep, Alexius rubbed his forehead. A plan began to form in his mind, a plan he wouldn’t have considered on his own, but that now seemed like an answer to his prayers. “Perhaps I can help you.”

  “How so?” the senator asked, desperate enough to be intrigued.

  “It’s well-known that I’m favored by the mob. Sponsor a contest the day before the election. I’ll represent you and lend you my support. Not everyone will follow me, but—”

  “But enough will to draw the emperor’s interest. What happens if you’re defeated? I’ll be out of a great deal of coin.”

  “I’ll be dead. Between the two of us, I consider myself the one with the most to lose.”

  “You’ll do this if I get Tibi for you this morning?”

  “And secure Tiberius’s signature to let us marry.”

  “Impossible! He’ll never agree.”

  “That’s your burden to carry, not mine. You’re an orator, Senator Tacitus. Win Tiberius to my side and I will win the mob to yours.”

  “You’re insane, Antonius,” Tiberius ranted. “My daughter married to a gladiator? Do you even ken what you’re asking?”

  Alexius paced outside Tiberius’s office. Tibi was suffering in her chamber right above him on the second floor. If not for his promise to Antonius to remain downstairs until the pact with Tiberius was signed, he would have already gone to her with speed.

  “Yes, I do understand. Do you understand that if you don’t oblige me, my chance for the consul nomination is next to nonexistent? If my reputation suffers, your own influence will dwindle, since much of your status is attached to my name.”

  “But he’s a gladiator!”

  “There are worse things.”

  “Name one.”

  The silence almost made Alexius chuckle.

  “An actor,” Antonius finally offered.

  Tiberius grunted.

  “What does it matter? We already have one of their sort in this family.”

  “Pelonia isn’t my daughter,” Tiberius shouted.

  “You want Tibi to marry,” Antonius said reasonably. “At least this marriage will have a purpose. Alexius is rich and popular. Consider that the marriages of your two daughters will ensure you recognition wherever you are in Rome. Tiberia’s marriage to me provides the security you need to enjoy the higher classes. And Tibi’s marriage will give you free passage with the lower orders.”

  Alexius rolled his eyes. He must truly be in love not to mind joining Tibi’s pretentious family. How she’d avoided their nonsense was a triumph, in his opinion.

  “Listen to me, old man,” Antonius said, the argument intensifying. “Your hateful reputation precedes you and Tibi’s is tarnished beyond repair. Between the two of you, there are enough scandals to sink a galley.

  Tibi is not going to receive a better offer and sending her to a temple will not alleviate the current problems crushing this family. Either give your permission for her to wed Alexius or consider that I’ll publicly disavow you.”

  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 shou
ted 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.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  By 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.”
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  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.”