Last Gladiatrix, The (6 page)

She sat bolt upright and thumped him. ‘I cannot believe you uttered those words. You despicable Roman! I am no camp woman!’

He captured her hands in his and deftly rolled over to trap her body beneath his. ‘You are a woman, you are in camp and you are nagging me with the same questions. Is this not true?’

She writhed beneath the weight of him. ‘You are impossible!’

He dipped his head, possessing her mouth before Xanthe could finish her diatribe. Laughing, Titus released her, rolling over to the opposite side so now he could pin her on top of him.

‘Let me go!’ she cried in mock anger.

‘Not until you pay the price.’

‘What price? I am a slave. I have nothing to offer.’

‘Oh, I think you do,’ Titus said, his voice low. The smouldering fires in his darkened eyes left her in no doubt of the kind of payment he required.

‘And, if I refuse?’

‘I don’t think you will. You’re smart and,’ he slid his hands down her body to find her heat, and she gasped as an arrow of pleasure shot through her, ‘you know a good deal when you feel one.’ Her centurion raised her hips to straddle his iron manhood. She groaned with delight, and began to grind on top of him.

‘I will pay, Centurion, but you must deliver on your promise.’

‘That’s it,’ Titus called. ‘Flick with the wrist and you can deflect the net.’

Xanthe grunted as she carried out his instruction. Her skill in repelling the net increased with each training session. In little more than a handful of days they would stand before the gates of Rome. Little time remained.

She spun and parried as Titus thrust with his dagger.

‘Good work,’ he said. ‘Let us run through one more time before we cease for the evening.’

Xanthe nodded, catching her breath.

At that moment a cordon of guards marched out of the camp towards them; Maximus, the General’s aide-de-camp, walked at their head.

‘Centurion Titus Valens, you are under arrest!’

Titus lowered the wooden dagger, staring with a look of profound disbelief at the man challenging him. ‘To what end? What is the charge?’

‘You are to face a charge of dereliction of duty. You are to face court martial, which will be presided over by General Sextus.’ To the guards, he said: ‘Take him and the Scythian slut, too.’

The soldiers accompanying Maximus quickly surrounded Xanthe and Titus, shackling them both, before pushing them roughly towards the camp.

Xanthe stumbled as a guard shoved her violently from behind. Recovering her balance, she drew close to Titus’s side. ‘How can they charge you when you do the General’s bidding?’ she whispered loudly.

‘I know not, but I fear we will discover the answer to your question soon enough.’ The hard line of his jaw conveyed the gravity of the situation.

‘Quiet!’ One of the soldiers struck Titus across his back. The centurion winced but held his silence. Xanthe followed his example and focussed on staying on her feet as the soldiers marched them to the General’s tent.

‘I will take them from here,’ said Maximus, dismissing the guard. He prodded Titus with the tip of his sword. ‘Move.’ Titus did as he was bid and entered the tent, Xanthe at his heels.

General Sextus sat in the middle of the tent looking every bit the self-satisfied toad, hands resting across the broad expanse of his belly. The sight of the fat General enraged Xanthe. She wanted to reach out and slap the smirk off his ugly face. Instead, she stood behind Titus as Maximus spoke, and as she couldn’t understand the proceedings, her attention began to wander.

She had barely any memory of her previous visit to the General’s tent. She’d been too angry to take anything in. Looking about, she noted the altar to the General’s gods off to the right. Rugs lined the floor and thick curtains partitioned off other parts of the tent. A large desk sat to one side, covered in parchments and maps. Banks of candles illuminated the dark recesses of the tent, throwing long shadows like the bony fingers of Roman ancestors.

Xanthe wondered if ordinary Roman citizens lived as well as the General on one of his campaigns. It amazed her that the legions would cart all of this furniture from one place to another, would put it all up one night and take it down the next morning. It seemed like a poor use of manpower to her.

The General spoke once more, drawing back her attention. She searched Titus’s face carefully for clues, yet he gave nothing away. The flickering light only served to highlight his chiselled profile, making him seem even more handsome than the carved gods depicted on the General’s altar. It made no difference what the men said, or what charges they lay at Titus’s feet—whatever came next would be horrible, regardless of the circumstances which brought them to it.

‘Centurion Titus Valens,’ said the General, ‘it has come to my attention that you have committed a serious breach of your duties. What do you have to say for yourself?’

Titus stared straight ahead at a point behind the General’s head. He dare not risk staring the fat slob in the eye for fear that Sextus would see the contempt lurking there. ‘I am guilty of no such crime, sir.’

‘Truly? That’s not what Maximus here tells me.’ The General indicated his aide-de-camp with a languid gesture. ‘He seems to think you have been derelict in your duties, perhaps disloyal, possibly even dishonest. Is that not so, Maximus?’

‘Sir! I have reason to believe Centurion Titus Valens has abused, and continues to abuse, your property.’

Titus’s brow furrowed with confusion. ‘This is a false claim! I have no property belonging to the General in my possession.’

‘Really?’ said Sextus, a slimy smile spread slowly across his face. ‘I do believe you are mistaken, Centurion. I entrusted into your care a valuable piece of my property.’ He nodded once in Xanthe’s direction. ‘Did I not ask you to prepare my property for its introduction at the Games once we reached Rome?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Titus barked. He could feel the trap closing around him. Why had he not seen this coming? Of course the old toad would accept his offer to prepare Xanthe for the Colosseum and then cut him out of the deal before sharing any profits with him. Titus should have known better. He kicked himself for his stupidity, and waited for the inevitable.

‘And now, I discover you have been using my property for your own pleasure. Do you deny this charge, Centurion?’ General Sextus leered.

Titus shot a sideways glance at Maximus, whose smug countenance told him how the General had come by his information. ‘No, I do not, sir!’

‘I view this as a serious breach of our agreement. It is a dereliction of your duty.’ The General rose awkwardly to his feet, his massive bulk inhibiting his movement. ‘You know the punishment for dereliction of duty, soldier.’

Titus nodded. Every soldier knew the penalty for dereliction of duty. This sadistic toad was bound to choose a punishment of his own devising over a traditional sentence, as was his right as a general. From the glint in his eye Titus knew he’d be lucky to escape with a severe maiming. He braced himself. 

‘I wonder what punishment would fit this situation best. What do you think, Maximus?’ The General made a show of consulting his aide-de-camp as he paced back and forth in front of his prisoners. ‘
Faustiumo
—a beating by cudgels, perhaps? Appropriate do you not think? No, no, I feel extremely betrayed, hurt even, by the way this soldier has trampled all over my trust. Is that unreasonable? What do you say on the matter, Maximus?'

‘No man could help but feel the same way, General Sextus. You had a deal of commerce and trade with this man. Not only did he betray you by sullying your property, he profited carnally from the deal without your prior approval or knowledge.’

‘Quite true.’ The General nodded sadly, as if Titus had indeed broken his heart, and sighed dramatically. ‘I am entitled to all profits and bonuses which come as a result of my property, in whatever form it takes, and yet this man saw himself fit to take his sexual pleasure as he needed it.’

Maximus’s face split into an obscene grin, and he rocked back and forth on his heels with uncontained glee. ‘I do believe he owes you for the services rendered him by your slave, sir.’

The General stopped his pacing and looked from Maximus to Titus with surprise. ‘Of course he does! Now why didn’t I think of that?’ He stepped closer to Titus, so close his fetid breath assaulted him, as he hissed: ‘You have stolen from me, Titus Valens, and you will pay for what you have taken.’

Stepping back, Sextus walked around behind his desk. He began to shuffle papers about in a self-important way. ‘I do not know the value of such services. How are we to calculate Titus Valens’s debt?’

Titus closed his eyes momentarily. Caught in the old toad’s trap! His mind began to leap through all the possible outcomes, all the actions he might take to save both himself and Xanthe. He doubted that he could avoid what the General had in mind for him. The old man was far too clever and there was no doubt he’d rehearsed this little scene well before Maximus arrested him. There would be no appeal, of that Titus was sure. But what of Xanthe? What would be her punishment?

‘Sir, I also am not the sort of man who frequents bawdy houses,’ said Maximus. Titus rolled his eyes; never had a greater lie been told. ‘But I do believe, from the men of course, that a good prostitute makes her master a large commission with each client.’ Then Maximus named a figure so outrageous it made Titus’s eyes roll in the other direction.

‘Mmm, so you say? That puts a serious light on the subject.’ The General sat down heavily and picked up a quill. He scratched at a piece of parchment, making a great show of his writing capabilities. ‘How many times do you suppose Titus Valens availed himself of my property?’

Maximus turned to face Titus. ‘Oh, I cannot say, sir. I think we must ask the man himself. Well, Centurion? What say you? How many times have you fornicated with the Scythian whore?’

Titus kept his eyes straight ahead, continuing to focus at a point somewhere over the General’s shoulder. To answer would be folly; better to say nothing at all. Sextus already had a figure in his head, and Titus refused to debase himself by participating in this carefully scripted charade any further.

‘Did you keep count? No? Why would you when you never thought you’d get caught with your hand in the honey pot.’ Sextus stopped and smiled, in a manner worthy of a Nile crocodile. ‘Let me think … if
I
was a young lusty soldier, I would be at it like the proverbial rabbit. Maximus, you’re a young man. What do you think?’

‘Sir, I am most virtuous, so my authority to speak is somewhat diminished. However, I have calculated a figure based on the expected commission you could’ve earned if you had rented her to a brothel, the number of days the Scythian whore has been in your possession, and the number of days she has been under the custodianship of Titus Valens.’

Maximus again named an extraordinary number. General Sextus stopped his pacing and turned to face him. ‘I must defer to your superior knowledge in such matters. If you believe this to be a fair price for his use of my property, then I shall make it thus.’ He turned to face Titus. ‘Tell me, Centurion, how do you propose to pay your bill?’

Titus swallowed hard as the snare tightened like a
retiarius
’s net about him. ‘I do not have such a sum to hand, sir.’

‘Pity. Perhaps you should have thought about that before you helped yourself to my property. I am deeply hurt you should dupe me into agreeing to let you train the Scythian with a view to earning a profit for yourself into the bargain, only to stab me in the back and take your pleasure where and when you chose.’

‘I believe it is called
in flagrante delicto
, sir,’ Maximus interrupted.

‘Truly? How amusing. I believe I am quite within my right to ask for your head, Centurion. I am, however, a man of great compassion and refinement. To that end I have decided to spare your life. You will, instead, work off your debt to me.’

‘And how may I do that?’

‘You have expressed an entrepreneurial interest in gladiators and the Colosseum games. I think you will make a fine addition to my stable of fighters. You and the Scythian whore will earn me more money in the ring than I can earn in a year as a General. And when you have paid back your debt to me, you will be free to do as you wish, should you survive.’

‘And the Scythian woman?’ Titus knew he risked further punishment for speaking out but had to know Xanthe’s intended fate.

General Sextus laughed grotesquely, his belly jiggling with the exertion. ‘Oh, my boy! I have not laughed so hard since I don’t know when.’ He wiped away a tear. ‘I don’t expect she will survive her first fight. In fact, I am most positive the little bitch won’t, and therefore there is little point worrying about how she will win freedom. She will obtain it in whatever version of our Elysium Fields her people believe, if those barbarians believe in anything at all.’

The General clapped his hands and his personal valet appeared as if by magic. ‘I am weary now. Maximus, take them to the stockade and see they are secured for the night.’

His valet began to remove the General’s cape as Maximus called the guard. ‘And Maximus,’ the General said, as an afterthought, ‘do make sure they are properly fed and not marked in any way. I want them in perfect condition. Rome is close by and there is no time to heal any wounds they may acquire in captivity. I want them looking their best when they step into the arena. Understood?’

‘Yes, sir!’ Maximus saluted the General and then turned to the guards, instructing them to escort Titus and Xanthe away.

Xanthe had not followed a single word of the men’s conversation. Not speaking Latin was a distinct disadvantage, and she made a mental note to try harder to learn, as her survival might depend upon it. Stumbling along at a jog to keep up with the guards, she tried to get Titus’s attention. How much trouble were they actually in?

Titus brushed aside her efforts and marched ahead with grim determination. She already knew her fate, but what of his? The thought of something terrible happening to her centurion clenched at her gut, making Xanthe queasy. Her heart began to pound; blood seemed to move thick and sluggish through her veins. Where were the guards taking them?