The Champion (9 page)

“I’ll hold you to your promise, Senator.” Alexius smiled, but did nothing to hide the sharp-edged warning in his tone. “Cross me and you won’t like the consequences.”

Tacitus froze. His gaze turned wary. He yanked up the hood of his cloak in a gesture that failed to make him seem less intimidated. “Don’t threaten me,
gladiator
.
I
am a senator of Rome.
You
are no more than a foreign dog.”

Used to insults of that nature, Alexius grinned as he watched Tacitus head for the door. “I make no threats,
Senator
. I’m merely giving you
my
word of honor. But unlike most politicians, you can count on me to do as I say.”

T
he next morning, Tibi woke late. Dread of returning to her father filled her the instant she opened her eyes. She’d spent most of the night tossing and turning, unable to sleep. She didn’t remember when she finally settled into the arms of Morpheus.

Usually one to greet the day with ease, she stalled and closed her heavy eyelids to ward off the bright sunbeams filtering through the slats in the shutters. She wished the chirping birds in the tree outside would find someone else to pester.

Hearing the maid, Leta, in the corridor, she left the sleeping couch and stumbled to the table holding a large bowl of water Leta had left the previous night. She washed her face and cleaned her teeth before hurrying to exchange the borrowed tunic she’d slept in for the gray wool she’d worn the day before.

Downstairs, the main floor was empty. Open windows along the walls allowed the clear spring weather to take up residence throughout the house. A gentle breeze rustled the long linen curtains that separated the large rectangular spaces into various rooms. High, painted ceilings, colorful frescoed walls and shiny mosaic-tiled
floors proclaimed the home as one of wealth and taste.

Hoping Alexius was near enough to hear, she called out a greeting. No one replied. Uncertain as to where she could or shouldn’t go in the unfamiliar house, she followed the sound of the fountains to the central courtyard.

“My lady?” A tray in her hands, Leta found her in the inner peristyle admiring a large Greek urn filled with fragrant white roses. “I was headed upstairs to bring you food and drink. Are you hungry?”

“Famished. May I eat out here in the garden?”

Leta, a pretty girl with long, black braids, smiled, exposing a row of crooked teeth. “You’re the master’s special guest. You can go wherever you wish.”

Cheered by the maid’s kindness, Tibi chose a sunny spot near the largest of the three fountains with a clear view of all but one entrance into the courtyard.

“Do you know where your master is?” Tibi asked, eager to see Alexius.

“He’s on the training field.” Leta set the tray on a low table within Tibi’s reach. “I’m to fetch him now that you’ve left your room.”

Once she was alone, Tibi nibbled on a sweet fig while she added honey to the bowl of steaming porridge on the tray. Now fully awake, she enjoyed the birdsong and the sun’s warmth on her face while she ate the hearty porridge. How ironic that she found more peace in a gladiator’s garden than she did in her own home.

She felt Alexius’s arrival before she saw him. A mix of joy and nervousness made her hand shake as she set the empty bowl back on the table.

Her pulse racing, she stood just as he appeared in the
nearest doorway. Struck dumb and helpless to move for the first time in her life, she drank in the sight of him like a woman suffering from an unquenchable thirst. How was it possible he’d become even more handsome overnight?

Broad shouldered and slim-hipped, he stood as tall as a titan—all lean muscle and power wrapped in a dark tunic and smooth, sun-bronzed skin. He must have come straight from a bath. Short, damp, black hair curled around his ears and his lean face was freshly shaven. Light silver eyes glowed like diamonds fringed with thick dark lashes.

He smiled at her and her heart melted. She sank on the low-cushioned bench behind her before her legs gave out from under her.

“I didn’t think it was possible,
agape mou,
but you’re even prettier today than you were yesterday. I can’t imagine how beautiful you’ll be in twenty years.”

Her face heated. She frantically reminded herself that he was known for charming and discarding much more sophisticated women than she would ever be. “I imagine I’ll be quite old and wrinkled.”

He moved toward her, conjuring up in her mind an image of a panther on the prowl. “Why don’t you stay here and let me find out?”

If only he knew how tempted she was to take him up on his offer, he surely wouldn’t tease her. “I told you I have to go back.”

“Yes, but there’s been a development.”

Her brows pleated. “What do you mean?”

He sat on the bench beside her. Leaning back on his arms, he stretched his muscular legs out in front him.

Leather sandal laces crisscrossed his strong calves. “I had a visitor last night.”

“Who?” she asked, growing drunk on the clean, intoxicating scent of his skin.

“Your esteemed brother-in-law.”

That bit of news sobered her in a blink. “What did Antonius want? Did he demand I go home?”

“On the contrary. I’m to give you a message. He and your sister advise you to stay away.”

She took a moment to absorb the warning and its hurtful meaning. “I knew Father was furious,” she whispered.

“They fear for your safety.” He lifted her chin with his index finger. His intense gaze bored into hers. “As do I.”

She slipped away from his touch and stood. Her fingers trailed through the cold water of the fountain. Anger toward her father burned inside her until she feared she’d spit fire. The disappointment of allowing him to wound her again flayed her alive.

He stood and joined her at the fountain. “They advise you to stay here.”

Her throat tightened. “How shameful I am to have to hide like a fugitive from my own father.”

He grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to face him. “The shame isn’t yours, Tibi.”

“No?” she asked, bitterness thick in her throat.

“No. The shame belongs to Tiberius. In my estimation, he’s a fool who deserves to be flogged. My father had six daughters, Tibi. He adored them all.”

“Maybe they weren’t oddities as I am.”

“You’re
not
an oddity. You’re a beautiful and courageous woman. You think for yourself. My sisters were free to do the same, to be themselves.” His fond smile
was edged with some deeper emotion she couldn’t quite name. “They were confident, happy and full of life. Just as our parents raised them to be.”

“I thought Greeks prized their women’s docility.”

He snorted. “In public that’s true. In private? I’ve never met a Greek woman who didn’t feel it necessary to give her opinion on any subject.”

“Do you men listen?”

“We have to. If we miss what they say the first time, they just get louder until we acknowledge them.” His long fingers combed through his damp hair. “What I’m trying to say is that you see yourself through the distorted view of your father and the hypocrites he calls friends. When I look at you, I see…”

“What? What do you see?” She held her breath, waiting.

“I see a woman with every reason to be proud of who she is.”

She didn’t know how to answer. A thick ball of emotion formed in her throat. She found his words difficult to believe after a lifetime of being convinced that she was worth less than dirt. But maybe he was right. She’d done everything in her power to be a good daughter. Maybe her parent was in the wrong. Perhaps her father
was
impossible to please. “If I’m to stay here, what shall I do? I don’t want to be in the way.”

Victory sparked in his eyes. “I’ll have the cook work you in the kitchen, as a proper woman should.”

Her spine stiffened. “I’ll serve in the kitchen to earn my keep, but not because—” She broke off when he burst out laughing. “What is so funny?”

He reached for her and pulled her against his chest without warning. “You should have seen your face,
agape mou
. Such instant fire in your eyes and color
in your cheeks… You look like a wrathful Aphrodite.” His laughter subsided to a tender smile. “We really do have to work on your sense of humor.”

She swatted his chest, but found it impossible not to forgive him for teasing when he held her so close. “So if I’m not to work in the kitchen, what
am
I do?”

He hooked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “If you’re as good with a bow as you claim, you can be of great help to me if you’re willing.”

“How so?”

“My archery instructor is in need of an assistant.”

Her mouth fell open. “You want
me
to teach
gladiators?
”

“I meant no offense—”

“I’m not offended,” she hurried to assure him. “I… I’m… Thank you! No one has
ever
appreciated my skill.”

He relaxed. “When I was a boy, I was taught to make use of anything available.”

“Aha, now I understand,” she said gravely.

He frowned. “What do you understand?”

“Why you feel the need to use every available woman in sight.”

To Tibi’s complete amazement, color scored his high cheekbones. He started to sputter.

It was her turn to dissolve into laughter. She held up her hand to stop him from offering a round of excuses. “You needn’t bother trying to justify yourself. I was only teasing you. But it does my heart good to learn you won’t boast of your behavior.” Strangely happy and emboldened, despite her many problems, she stood on her tiptoes and looped her arms around his neck, grinning up at him. “Clearly we’ve hit upon an area where we need to work on
your
sense of humor.”

“So you think you’re clever.” He squeezed her until she giggled. “I’ll work on anything you say as long as we work on it together.”

After the noon meal, Alexius escorted Tibi to the
sagittarii
field where his lead instructor, Silo, waited to meet with her. The sun was warm, but the day was cool and clear, ideal for archery practice. If all went well and Tibi passed the proper tests, Alexius would allow her to begin work with Silo and two of his minor instructors, training half a dozen new volunteers the next afternoon.

Not far beyond the row of hay-stuffed targets, several pairs of gladiators perfected their stances in the golden sand of the training arena. The clap of wooden practice swords and the instructions issued by his trainers carried on the light breeze. Not for the first time, he questioned the wisdom of allowing his woman anywhere near the men. Walking the delicate balance between making her happy and keeping her safe was a more difficult proposition than he’d first anticipated. He wished he’d kept his mouth shut and never offered her a teaching position. In hindsight, he realized that he’d overplayed his hand. He’d been just uneasy enough to convince her to stay that he’d overstepped the bounds of good judgment.

Only the pure joy on her face when he’d asked her to share her knowledge kept him from changing his mind, as he’d been tempted to do at least a dozen times in the past hour.

He rubbed the knotted muscles at the back of his neck. He’d promised himself he’d never let her out of his sight and Silo swore to protect her with his life. Any
trainee who harmed so much as a hair on her precious head would find his days ended that same moment.

Still, if anything happened to Tibi…

“I’ve reconsidered,” he said.

“What?” She stopped midstride and stared up at him with dark, disappointed eyes. “Why? Have I done something wrong?”

The afternoon breezes whipped tendrils of silken hair around her oval face. Her full mouth beckoned him like a treasure trove. She was dressed in wool from head to toe, but he found her more alluring than a siren. “I didn’t fully consider the effect you’re bound to have on my men.”

Her face fell. “There are other women within the
ludus
. Are they not safe?”

He shrugged. “They’re not half as beautiful as you are.”

Color bloomed in her cheeks. She looked down her front as if inspecting the ugly garment she wore. “Speak sense. I’m not beautiful. Besides, you said your trainers would be by my side to protect me.”

“You
are
beautiful… Don’t roll your eyes.” He sighed and shook his head. “Maybe I’m not being fair to my trainers to expect them to perform their duties and protect you at the same time.”

Her gaze dropped to the sand at their feet. She kicked a small rock with the toe of her sandal. “I see your point. I didn’t consider I’d cause them extra work. I don’t want—”

“Don’t say it. You’re no trouble or a burden. This has nothing to do with you. My men are trained killers. They can be barbarians.”

“Your troupe treated me with respect when I went with them to the Coliseum.”

“Hmm…for some reason I remember that episode a mite differently. I believe Gerlach threatened you, didn’t he?”

Her nose wrinkled with distaste. “Will the
Germanian
be one of my students?”

His mouth tightened. “Not in a thousand years.”

“Then, please, let’s see how the next few days go. You have my sincerest promise that I’ll be careful. At the first sign of trouble, I’ll have Silo take me back to the house. Your trainers won’t have to worry about me.”

Alexius frowned as a similar promise echoed through his mind from over a decade before. Without warning, the beloved and much-missed face of his sister, Kyra, emerged in his mind’s eye. The agony of grief and endless regrets pierced his chest.

“Are you well, Alexius?” Tibi’s voice overflowed with concern.

He forced the memory aside and glanced down to see Tibi’s slim fingers clenched around his upper arm.

“You looked as though you were in pain. Are you ill?”

“I’m fine,” he assured her, more shaken by the memory of Kyra than he cared to admit.

She studied him with a dubious frown. “More secrets? I can see you’re troubled by something. It’s my fondest hope that you’ll trust me enough someday to share your sorrows with me.”

“It’s not a matter of trust.” He looked out over the archery field to the training arena and game pens in the distance. Three hundred of Rome’s best gladiators, the multistory barracks, bathhouses, storehouses and kitchens all belonged to him. He was no longer the poor farm boy whose defense of his sister had destroyed all those he’d loved.

“Then what is it?” she asked gently.

“It’s a matter of letting the past stay buried, where it belongs.”

“Forgive me, but nothing seems buried. You seem haunted by whatever is troubling you.”

“Haunted?” He forced a laugh, while at the same time acknowledging that she saw him too clearly. “How like a female to be so dramatic.”

She winced as though he’d slapped her. “I may be a
dramatic
female, but I never expected you to be a man who resorts to insults and cowardice.”