Last Gladiatrix, The (7 page)

BOOK: Last Gladiatrix, The
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The General’s aide strode ahead of them, the lines of his body showing his smug satisfaction at having triumphed over Titus. Pompous ass! What Xanthe would have given for the opportunity to cleave him from shoulder to hip!

They came to a small, crudely-built wooden hut. Maximus stopped and indicated for the door to be opened. The guards quickly bundled Titus and Xanthe unceremoniously inside. Maximus barked something and the guard’s actions gentled but not by much. He said something to Titus, laughing cruelly as he shut the door.

Xanthe heard the door being secured from the outside and knew that circumstances had become very bad indeed; they were imprisoned properly now. She looked at the straw thrown carelessly across the floor, as the wind whistled through the cracks in the hut’s walls it blew strands of it every which way. At least there was a roof over their heads, so thank the Gods for small mercies. She sighed and sank down.

Titus remained standing, staring fixedly at the closed door.

‘So what has happened?’ Xanthe asked. ‘What is your crime? What is to become of us?’

Titus did not answer straight away. When he finally turned to her, he smiled. ‘Always so many questions.’

‘How else am I to discover anything? I am a mere chattel, pushed from pillar to post, and expected to do my master’s bidding. That’s how you Romans see me, yet never stop to ponder how I see myself differently. I am a free woman of the horse and plain. I intend to return to my life, so you need to tell me what’s going on. If the situation has changed, I must factor those changes into my own plans.’

‘So you have plans?’ Titus came to sit opposite her. ‘Tell me Scythian, once you escape— and I am keen to hear how you will manage that great feat — what is it you are going to do?’

‘Sarmatian,’ she hissed, knowing full well he named her wrongly only to get under her skin. ‘My brother was taken by the Huns during a raiding party. He is my father’s only heir and I intend to find him and rescue him.’

‘Do you?’ Titus sounded surprised and disbelieving.

‘I am just as good a fighter as he. Once I locate him, I intend to bring my own raiding party against the Huns and destroy them.’

‘Impressive,’ Titus nodded his head. ‘Now, how are you to get from here—trapped in this little wooden stockade—to there, on horseback, leading a raiding party of your people?’ He lay down in the straw, hands behind his head, feigning a level of relaxation she knew he could not feel. ‘I am curious to hear this plan of yours. We have all night, and I need something to entertain me.’

Xanthe threw a handful of straw at him. Oh, how she wished it could be a rock! That would wipe the smug look off of his handsome face. ‘Why are you being so repulsive? We are in this together, are we not? Especially now, as it seems you have brought the wrath of the fat General down upon your own head. Now, tell me what you are charged with and what they are planning to do with you.’

Titus sighed, his gaze now fixed on the ceiling. ‘The bad news is they have accused me of the unlawful use of a General’s property.’

Xanthe frowned in confusion. ‘I don’t understand. I am with you from dawn to dusk, and I have not seen you using anything belonging to the General.’

Titus turned his golden eyes to hers and raised his eyebrows.

‘Oh. I see.’

‘Indeed. And I am required to pay for what I have used.’

‘Oh!’ Xanthe exclaimed, a blush of embarrassment spreading over her cheeks. The General knew about their lovemaking—was nothing sacred? Probably not when you were a slave. ‘How much am I worth?’

‘Far too much.’ Titus smiled.

‘Hey!’ She kicked his foot.

He smiled wider. ‘I did not mean it that way. So like a woman to take a man’s words and twist them. I merely meant the sum of money required is far higher than all my worldly goods put together. I am in the General’s debt, and he is within his rights to extract that debt from me in any manner he sees fit.’

Xanthe curled her legs beneath her and leant towards her centurion, barely making his features out in the dark. ‘And how is he intending to extract the debt?’

‘I am to become a gladiator and fight for his purse. Eventually, should I survive, I can work off my debt and regain my freedom.’

‘Well, that’s not so bad.’ She sat back, pleased to hear the General was not going to execute Titus outright. ‘We will still be together and when we have won our freedom, you can come with me to find my brother.’

Titus laughed, the bitter sound bouncing off the rough walls of the stockade. ‘Your naivety is precious, Xanthe. Even if I survive long enough to buy my freedom, no one expects you to last more than a day in the arena. The only true freedom awaiting us is death.’

‘Don’t say that!’ she cried, crawling over to where Titus lay. ‘They are words of defeat. If you agree to be defeated now, then surely you will be. The Gods will hear such talk and withdraw their support.’ Xanthe rested her hands on his hard chest, her touch a supplication.

Titus turned his head, eyes searching hers in the dim light, a strange look upon his face. She did not understand, surely he did not mean to give up so easily.
She
had no intention of giving up.

He drew her down beside him, cradling her in his arms.

‘You are right, sweet Xanthe. It is not wise to upset the Gods, and I believe they are on our side. Sleep now, for tomorrow we march to Rome and we will need all our strength for what is to come.’

She burrowed down, drawing him to her. Titus held her tight and entwined his fingers in hers. It was going to be a long night.

Chapter Nine

If she lived to be a hundred years old, Xanthe would never forget her first glimpse of Rome as it appeared on the horizon, as they marched down the Appian Way towards the gates of the city. Tombs and memorials lined the road, carved with the stories of the freemen and citizens who had gone before them. She felt a grudging respect for these Romans; they did nothing by halves.

As reluctant as she was to enter the city and meet her fate, a deep curiosity burned within her to explore and see these Romans’ proudest achievement. Xanthe did not think she would ever get her wish, though. The minute she won her freedom she intended to head back to her homeland, Titus at her side.

Xanthe felt a sense of fierce determination at the thought, a determination that lit her from within and would dictate everything to come. She placed one foot in front of the other, her eyes focussed straight ahead as she marched on to her fate.

Titus marched beside her, their shackles clanking in time with their steps. His presence comforted her, offering her the hope that everything would turn out all right. In her heart of hearts, she knew what madness this hope was; yet, at least she would not go through her ordeal alone. Her centurion would be there, somewhere, cheering her on.

Xanthe turned towards him and smiled. How dear his face had become to her in such a short time. Who would have thought she would fall in love with a Roman? How her kinsmen would laugh. She had every intention of surviving long enough to hear their laughter.

The Legion marched through the gates of Rome. The centurions dismissed the men; many of the groups of soldiers dispersed, having homes and families to go back to. Not all of the men had signed up for twenty years; many only took up arms when needed, and keeping a large army on hand could be a very expensive business. The Quartermaster would pay those who left on the morrow.

Xanthe watched the men leave after being dismissed from their duty. Where did they go? What did the inside of a Roman house look like?

The streets crowded with people going about their business, stray dogs skulking, children playing, and slaves with telltale collars around their necks running errands on behalf of their masters. The towering buildings crowded in on her. There seemed to be little space in Rome.

‘They are called
insulate
.’ Titus’s voice, low and deep, tickled her ear.

‘What are?’ She spun to face him, now inches from his lips. Heat surged between her thighs as she imagined leaning forward and kissing him.

The centurion held his ground, a wicked smile playing across his face. ‘Those buildings are houses stacked on top of one another. Most ordinary Romans live in them. The wealthy live on the bottom,’ he pointed to a building nearby, ‘while the poorest live on the top.’

Xanthe’s eyes followed his gesture. So much hustle and bustle. How did they stand the noise? And the smell! The stench of so many people living in one place made her eyes water.

‘What is that?’ she asked Titus, nodding to crude drawings covering a wall.

‘Graffiti,’ he replied. ‘The good citizens of Rome take it upon themselves to write, or draw, their opinions on the issues of the day on the city walls.’

‘Are they not punished for this?’

Titus shrugged. ‘Only if they get caught. Politicians find it a handy indication of the way public opinion swings. I don’t think they mind as long as they are not the ones appearing in a compromising position.’ He indicated a drawing of a man copulating with a woman, and a Latin inscription scrawled beneath.

‘Such a strange place,’ Xanthe sighed. She watched as the women of Rome sauntered past, their hair dyed unnatural shades and piled on top of their heads in outrageous fashions. Their faces were painted, and their dress flowing and elegant.

As Xanthe watched, she realised that she could never be one of them. Give her a pair of leggings and a saddle, not sandals and makeup. Who could be bothered with all that fussing?

A soldier barked an order at them. Titus stood up, and Xanthe scrambled to her feet beside him. Soldiers fell in around them.

‘What is happening? Where are we going?’ she asked, in an exaggerated whisper.

‘To the Colosseum.’ Titus did not look at her and she knew the fear lying heavy in her belly lurked in his heart, also. Swallowing hard, Xanthe simply nodded and fell into step beside him.

The sights and sounds of Rome blurred as they marched through the narrow streets. Shop keepers called out their wares, and groups of people came and went from buildings, and she wondered what went on inside. People bought food from shops and ate on the street. She’d never seen anything like it.

Titus must have noticed her curiosity. ‘Bath houses.’ He nodded towards a group of men who had exited such an establishment. ‘Romans like to gather together to bathe in communal baths.’

‘Truthfully?’ Xanthe’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You Romans will never cease to amaze me.’

The crowds parted to allow them through, showing them little notice as they did. Xanthe side stepped a foul-smelling puddle, just in the nick of time. Her head began to pound, as the sights and sounds of this first encounter of the great Empire overwhelmed her senses.

Trying to gather her energy and focus on the ordeal ahead, Xanthe concentrated on watching the legs of the soldier in front of her, trying to block out all of the sights and sounds clamouring for her attention.

Before long, they reached the famed Colosseum. Xanthe craned her neck back in awe as she gazed up at the towering, magnificent building. Never had she seen anything like it. Arch upon arch of carved columns—how did they manage to get it to stay up? Surely it must be the work of Gods, not man.

Yet it became rapidly clear to her as they entered that the Colosseum was inhabited not by gods, but men. The gloom enveloped her as they marched through a doorway, which seemed to be leading them to the holding pens beneath the arena. The smell sent her reeling, and Xanthe soon found her hand grabbing at her nose.

‘Animals,’ said Titus, ‘large animals that are kept somewhere in the vast complex of rooms and cages. They like to pit them against criminals as morning entertainment for the masses.’

Xanthe turned to look at him, eyes wide. ‘You’re joking,' she said, even as the sound of roars and growls echoed in the corridor.

‘Sadly, no. There is much cruelty here, and I’m sorry to say you will see all of it before the length of the day is done.’

A squat old man approached them. He walked with a limp and looked as if his nose had been broken more than once.

‘You! Are you Titus Valens?’ He pointed a dirty finger in their direction.

‘Centurion Titus Valens.’

‘Not anymore,’ the old man laughed, wheezing as he did so. ‘Now you are gladiator, Titus Valens. Or maybe we should pick a better name for you? Never mind. Come, follow me.’

Titus followed the old man, Xanthe hot on his heels. The guard had left them and it now seemed to Xanthe that they fully belonged to the shadowy world of the gladiators.

‘I am Lucius Pulus. I am your master here. You do as you’re told, when you’re told, and perhaps—if you survive your fights—you will do well at the gladiator School. Maybe even become a big hero in the arena.’ He turned and winked at them, yet the gesture offered Titus no comfort.

Lucius stopped in front of a cell. ‘You will be housed here until tomorrow.’ The look on Titus’s face must have registered his displeasure. ‘Oh, it’s not so bad, Centurion.’ Lucius slapped him on the back as he ushered him inside. ‘You could be dead, no?’ He made a great show of locking the door. ‘General Sextus has instructed me to keep you under lock and key until after tomorrow’s game. If you win, you will be billeted with the other gladiators but if you lose …’

Lucius shrugged his shoulders, his meaning clear.

‘Wait!’ Titus cried, as Lucius grabbed Xanthe by her arm and began to usher her deeper into the underground world of the Colosseum. ‘She doesn’t speak Latin. She won’t know what’s going on.’

Lucius turned and offered him another eloquent shrug. ‘Things become clear quickly enough. You will see her again and you can explain it all to her then. Now get to your rest. You will need all your strength for your match on the morrow.’

Xanthe peered at the horrible little man holding her arm, wondering if all Roman citizens smelled this way, or just the ugly ones. He chatted to her in a friendly voice, his words meaningless. Once or twice, he poked his grimy finger at her tattoos and it took all her self control not bite at him. Only the fear of catching some sort of sickness from the dirty man stopped her.

BOOK: Last Gladiatrix, The
13.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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