The Gladiator Prince (16 page)

Thane glared down the path, knowing he needed the Greek. Signaling them to follow, he led them back down the road where the wheel treads had turned.

“I do not trust those soldiers not to come back for their prize.” He pulled off his pack and handed it to Bahar. “I have to find the Greek and bring him back. There is a small river just south of this path.” He pointed to his right at a tangled mess of foliage. “No horse can get through the underbrush. Go there and wait for me. If I am not back by dark, then set up camp. I will be along as soon as I can.”

Phaedra squinted up at him and frowned. “You are coming back… yes?”

Thane chuckled. “Of course. I am not about to lose two hundred denarii.”

Phaedra opened her mouth in protest, but he adjusted his sword, shot them one more look and took off running down the road. He hoped the two of them would stay out of trouble… at least until he returned.

Chapter XV

Darkness settled over the small camp Phaedra and Bahar had prepared. They huddled together around a small fire, warming their hands in silence. Phaedra knew Bahar must be exhausted, but he did not complain. The sound of rushing water from the stream lulled her eyes to close, but she resisted, knowing she had to stay awake.

Suddenly the bushes rustled, and Phaedra and Bahar jumped to their feet. Bahar pulled his sword, and Phaedra scrambled to get behind him.

Thane appeared out of the gloom dragging a very reluctant Adrastos with him. Thane’s face was red with fury, his eyes wild. Phaedra stepped back; she had never seen the gladiator more agitated. Something was wrong.

With a flick of his arm, Thane tossed the medico into the middle of the clearing. The Greek rolled twice. When he stopped, he buried his face in his hands weeping. From the smell, Phaedra knew he was very drunk. He tried to rise, but could not make it beyond his knees.

Thane made a fist then pointed to the Greek. “You lied to the queen, you bastard, or she would not have tied you to me. If those Romans had been more curious, they would have taken us when they discovered we had no wagon. And now this!” He swore under his breath then threw his hands up.

“What has happened?” Bahar asked.

Thane did not take his eyes off the medico sobbing at his feet. “I caught him approaching a bandit on the road. I scared the man, but can only hope they scattered before Adrastos told him anything.”

Phaedra pulled a lock of hair into her hand and twisted it, afraid to get too near the gladiator, but she did not understand the danger. “It was only one man, Thane.”

He jerked his head around and sneered at her. “Where there is one there will be twenty.” Leaning down he grabbed the front of Adrastos’ tunic. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing! I told him nothing!” he babbled. “I would not betray you, Prince.”

“You knew him,” Thane hissed through his teeth.

Adrastos nodded furiously. “Yes, I have traded with him before. I swear to the gods I told him nothing. I had only just arrived. We spoke of my wares, nothing more. I swear!”

Thane pulled him to his feet, and Adrastos staggered back when he let him go.

Phaedra stepped up to the Greek, ignoring the stink of wine and touched his cheek. “Please, Adrastos, tell the truth. Did you betray us?”

The giant sniffed profoundly and wiped away tears with the back of his hand. His brow wrinkled into deep furrows, and his lips curled down into a desperate frown. “No, lady,” he whispered urgently. “I would never betray you.”

Thane threw his head back. “Ha!”

Phaedra lifted an upturned palm to him. “Thane, be reasonable. Do you honestly think we would still be here if Adrastos told him about us? Perhaps it was not a bandit. Perhaps it was one of the scattered Brits…”

His answer went tight. “You do not know these woods, the men here, what they would do to you…” He nodded to Bahar, “or to your brother. These are bandits, thieves, violent men who would slit your throat for a crust of bread, not the scattered tribes looking for a home. You have no hint of what the real world is like, girl,” he snarled. “You have no idea what I…” He stopped suddenly and lowered his eyes. He turned away from her and ran his hand slowly over his lips. A tremble rippled through his shoulders. Taking a deep breath, he folded his arms, his fists taut and turned around to her. “You believe him?”

Phaedra opened her mouth, but the words went dry when she gazed into those angry blue eyes. Turning her head to Bahar, she sent him an appeal.

He bent his body slightly and shrugged. “I do not think the Greek would betray us,
Doctores
.”

Thane examined the young man’s face, and Phaedra thought he would calm, but in a sweeping turn, he grabbed his pack.

“Adrastos…” The quiet of his voice frightened Phaedra. It looked like he was leaving. “Put them in your wagon, go back to the
Iter
and take them home. I am done.” His voice had no tone.

Panic seized Phaedra’s stomach and shock shot pins through her blood. Did she hear him correctly? “No…” she breathed. “I… I will not go back. We need you, please. We cannot do this without you.”

At the edge of the forest, he stopped and swiveled his head to look at her. “You are going to have to.” He disappeared into the tangled woods.

Chapter XVI

The night was very cold, and Phaedra could not sleep. She turned fitfully many times during the long night, only to wake to the same darkness. Giving it up, she sat up and yawned. Bahar stood at the edge of the camp, his sword drawn, and she had to smile. Then it all came back to her; Thane was gone, had abandoned them in the middle of the forest with nothing to protect them but Bahar’s sword and a drunk Greek.

Bahar had gone after him immediately, but Thane disappeared into the dark woods without a trace. When Bahar came back to camp and had given Phaedra that uncertain shake of his head, all the strength drained out of her legs. Her throat tightened around the dried reserve of tears she had already shed.

Adrastos was in no condition to go on, so they returned to the wagon, pushed it off the path and covered it with branches to conceal it. Then they found a more secluded spot away from the river so they could hear and did not light another fire. Adrastos had fallen asleep immediately and would take the third watch, if he could. Phaedra had taken the first, but no more than an hour went by when Bahar came to relieve her, claiming he could not sleep. After a prolonged argument, Phaedra gave in.

She rose from the cold hard ground and wrapped the horse blanket around her shoulders before crossing to Bahar. It had become a kind of security for her, even soiled and reeking. Somehow, those things hardly mattered any more.

Tapping Bahar on the shoulder, he started and whirled around to confront her. Apparently, he had nodded off standing up. Phaedra just shook her head, took the dangling sword out of his hand and turned him toward his bedroll.

Before they had taken a step, the bushes erupted in a cacophony of men’s voices, the sound a whirlwind around them. Shouts, high-pitched whistles, catcalls tore the air into an avalanche of noise. Even Adrastos, who had been drop down drunk, jumped up at the sound, his hands spread out and his knees bent.

Bahar snatched the sword out of Phaedra’s hand, pushed her toward the Greek and sandwiched her between them. Men jumped out of the bushes and advanced slowly.

There were seven of them, each with long hair, scraggly nested beards and filthy clothes. Each held a long thin sword, a net or a shortened javelin and tightened the circle slowly around the trio. Three held smoking torches.

Phaedra’s breath stopped in her throat, and she wished she had a weapon. The only things within reach were two of Adrastos’ amphora, but she would never reach them in time.

The men stopped a few feet from them as if waiting, poking their swords or spears at the companions, swearing in both Latin and Celtic and making lewd suggestions to not only Phaedra, but Bahar as well. Three of the men could not have been much older than him, and one was a woman, probably in her thirties with a mane of tangled hair and many missing teeth.

At length, a tall man stepped from the shadow of the forest, folded his arms and tilted his head back in a laugh.

“I knew you were lying, Adrastos!” His accent was lyrical, rich. “So who have we here?” He circled them just outside the reach of Bahar’s sword. The boy paced him, trying to keep Phaedra at his back. “You, girl! What is your name?”

“Say nothing,” Adrastos hissed.

“Are you going to fight them with your bare hands?” she whispered back.

“If I have to. Do as I say!”

“I asked your name, girl,” he said. “Mine is Bryn. These,” he said motioning to the group, “are my people.”

Adrastos pumped up his chest and took a warning step toward the man. “Bryn, we have nothing of value here. Leave us now. I have no wish to harm you.”

Everyone laughed, and Adrastos’ chest deflated some. “You, hurt me? You drunken sod! Nothing of value?” Bryn’s eyes lighted on Phaedra, and he licked his lips. “I think you have something very valuable.” He whistled, and the bandits moved closer.

The barrel chested Adrastos bent his head down, like a bull preparing for a rush. Out of his mouth rose a very prestigious roar. Suddenly he charged the men, moving so quickly, several of them went down before they raised their weapons. He caught two more in a wide sweep of his arms, hitting one on the top of the head with his fist and bringing his other arm hard against the second’s windpipe. They went down together.

Bahar ran toward Bryn with his sword held high. The robber had parried the first blow, but Bahar was quick. He swept the bandit’s feet knocking him to the ground.

Phaedra stepped back from the fighting at a loss, but spotted the amphora and dove to reach them. A weight landed on her legs and she twisted around in time to see the woman coming at her face with sharpened claws. Phaedra ducked to the right then to the left to keep them from reaching her. Althea had told her once that Briton women dipped their nails in poison such as caster beans, which can cause instant death, black locust to debilitate you for a slow kill, or nightshade to eat you from the inside out. She had no intention of finding out which one.

Pulling her foot up quickly, she slammed it into the woman’s face sending her onto her back and wasted no time getting to the amphora and grabbing two. The woman recovered quickly and charged at Phaedra, but must not have seen that she was armed. As the woman came down to get on top of her, Phaedra brought the two jugs together with the woman’s snarled head between them. They shattered into pieces, and the woman collapsed on top of Phaedra’s legs.

Bahar cried out, and Phaedra struggled out from underneath the unconscious woman. When she was up, she whirled around to try to find him, but it took her a few precious moments. He cried out again, and Phaedra saw him across the clearing on his knees in front of Bryn who had his back to the forest. Bryn lifted his sword above his head in two hands, and Bahar tried to move, but he was holding his side, wilting to the ground.

Phaedra screamed and ran toward him, but someone caught her around the waist and threw her to the ground. A blur sailed past her toward Bahar, and she thought for a moment that it was Adrastos.

As Bryn’s sword came down, it hit something hard before it reached the boy. When Phaedra’s eyes cleared, Thane stood before the bandit, his
gladius
sliding with a screech along Bryn’s longer blade.

“Are you a coward that prays on women and little boys?” Thane snarled at Bryn. “Will you fight a man?”

Phaedra felt hands on her shoulders and twisted quickly to see Adrastos behind her holding a torch. He gathered her into his arms and led her to the other side of the clearing. To one side was a pile of broken men, victims of the Greek’s first charge.

Bryn did not move his sword but kept it locked on the
gladius
. He tilted his head to the side, and there was a miniscule lift to his lips. Moving his feet very slowly to the side, he stepped over the prostrate Bahar and circled with Thane to the center of the clearing.

Phaedra shook out of the Greek’s arm and rushed to Bahar who was groaning in a mound on the other side of the clearing. She was careful to keep out of Bryn’s reach. When she reached her brother, his tunic was soaked in blood.

“Are you all right?” she asked, gently tugging on the fabric to release it from the wound.

“The sword went through my side.” He groaned when she opened the shirt, and her heart almost stopped. The laceration was at least six inches long, and she could see the ribs beneath, two of them broken. She slowed her breath as Althea taught her and let the healer take over her hands.