by Tanya Bird
Chapter 6
Squatting, Mila swept leaves in the garden while Nerva stood in the shade of the loggia. He watched her, all the while trying to extract information. She was not making it easy for him.
‘I am still trying to understand what he was doing in the laundry.’
She glanced up, her hands continuing their work. ‘I told you, he was being polite, seeing if I was all right.’
‘Why? It is not as if the sword hit you in the face.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘No, the sword did not hit me.’
He laughed at her sulky tone. ‘I have seen you hit with far worse than my mother’s hand, and I am not convinced you even felt it.’
‘If you are referring to the time you punched me in the face with the hilt of your sword, then yes, that was far worse.’
Another laugh. ‘If I recall correctly, you fell into the hilt of my sword. You cannot ask me to train you as though you are a man and then react like a girl.’
That time she stopped sweeping. ‘My nose was bleeding, but did I complain?’
‘You are complaining now.’
She stood. ‘Perhaps Remus followed me into the laundry because he is a better man than you.’
Nerva crossed his arms, a smirk on his face. ‘Or perhaps he fancies you.’
She felt colour rush to her cheeks. ‘That is… ridiculous.’
He narrowed his eyes on her. ‘Are you blushing? I do not believe I have ever seen you blush before. You must have it bad for the man.’
She threw the small broom at him at the same time Rufus stepped into view. A small gasp escaped her.
‘What is going on here?’ he asked, looking to Nerva for an explanation.
Mila swooped down to retrieve the broom laying at Nerva’s feet. His smile was long gone.
‘I was just asking Mila about the dinner party last night.’
‘The one you were too busy to attend?’
Nerva cleared his throat. ‘That would be the one.’
Rufus glanced at Mila, who stood behind her swept pile of debris. He was far more tolerant of her than he would be with any other slave, if only for the sake of her mother. He liked to keep her happy.
‘As you were,’ he said, gesturing to the broom.
‘Yes, Erus.’ She bowed her head and crouched, grateful for his turning a blind eye. She hated being struck in front of Nerva, the way he turned away, unable to watch. It always left her pride in tatters, despite there being no place for pride in her life. Not that Rufus took a hand to her very often.
She pretended not to listen to their conversation, noting Rufus’s insistent tone as he laid out his son’s social plans for the evening. Nerva nodded, despite the fact that he hated spending time with his father’s political friends. The invitation was not optional.
Only once Rufus had left did Mila look up again.
Nerva let out a breath and leaned against a pillar. ‘Do not fear. I will say nothing to Father of your gladiator love affair.’
She shook her head. ‘Do you not have expensive horses to tend?’
He smiled and pushed off the pillar. As he turned, he noticed Dulcia standing behind him, waiting to speak with Mila. He strolled over to her.
‘Make sure your sister does not jump the wall tonight,’ he said as he passed her.
‘She does not listen to me,’ Dulcia replied.
Nerva stopped walking and gave her plait a gentle tug. ‘Then we will have to toughen you up so you can stop her.’
Dulcia looked down, blushing. Once he had disappeared from sight, she went to her sister. Mila watched her, frowning at her timid frame. What would become of her if one day their dominus sold her to another household? She was neither strong nor confident, and judging by the duties and tasks she was given, everyone knew it.
‘I am going to the market,’ Dulcia said. ‘Germana wants lemons.’
Germana had been the household’s cook for more than twenty years. Due to that fact, and her much-sought-after culinary skills, she was given free rein over the other servants and often sent the girls on errands to fetch last-minute ingredients. They had once been forced to comb the city in search of quail despite an abundance of available chickens that would have sufficed.
Mila blew at the loose hair falling over her face. ‘I went to the market this morning and she said nothing of lemons.’
‘She is making a tart,’ Dulcia said, as if that answered every possible question that might follow. ‘And I thought I might stop at the temple to pray.’
Mila eyed her sister. ‘All right. Let Mother know where you are going before you leave.’
Dulcia’s hands were clasped in front of her and she did not move.
‘What is the matter?’
Her sister hesitated before speaking. ‘I thought you might come with me.’
Tilting her head, Mila replied, ‘You are twelve, more than capable of buying lemons and praying alone.’
Dulcia nodded, chewing her bottom lip. ‘I thought you might like the walk,’ she lied.
Mila exhaled and glanced down at the leaves by her feet. ‘Help me finish here and I will come with you.’
A smile spread across her sister’s face, and she bounded forwards like an excited pup.
It was mid-afternoon as they headed to the macella, the indoor market on the other side of the Caelian hill. The girls preferred to shop at the nundinae, which was closer, cheaper and fresher, but the street market only ran every ninth day, which meant they usually spent a great deal of time shopping elsewhere for ingredients.
The sun pounded down on them, and the heat from the pavement made their feet swell in their sandals. The market was at least quiet at that time of day, with all the sensible people having visited in the morning. All that remained was tired merchants, a few stray servants fetching last-minute dinner items and some wilted vegetables. When they finally found a vendor selling lemons, Dulcia paid with the coin Germana had given her. It was not uncommon for servants to pocket the occasional change given them, but as luck would have it, their cook knew the exact value of every available food item.
Lemons in hand, the girls stood for a moment in the shade across the street, working up to the long trek home. It was then that Mila spotted Remus walking down the road towards them. She went still at the sight of him, afraid any movement would draw his attention.
‘What is the matter?’ Dulcia asked, looking up at her sister with a confused expression.
‘Nothing,’ Mila whispered, ushering her in the other direction. She made the mistake of glancing back at Remus and found him staring at her. She froze, and then, feeling foolish, raised a hand in greeting. ‘Go,’ she said, giving her sister a shove.
Dulcia squeaked, objecting to the rough treatment.
Mila noticed that Remus had started to cross the street and was walking towards them. She took hold of Dulcia’s arm to stop her, and her sister came to an abrupt halt.
‘Are we going or staying?’ Dulcia asked, exasperated. She followed Mila’s line of sight to Remus. He came to a stop in front of them, and she immediately stepped back into Mila’s shadow.
‘Well, this is a surprise,’ Remus said, his blue eyes on Mila. ‘You following me?’
‘You flatter yourself.’ She tried not to stiffen beneath his gaze. ‘Are you really so surprised to see a slave at a market?’
His gaze moved over her. ‘I’m surprised to see you clothed. Almost walked straight past you.’
Mila did not take the bait, glancing instead at her bewildered sister, who looked positively terrified. ‘This is my sister, Dulcia.’
Remus looked at the cowering girl and nodded. ‘Hello.’
Dulcia studied him, wide-eyed. ‘Are you one of the men my sister fights?’
‘No,’ Mila answered for him. ‘I do not fight men.’
‘You fight men all the time,’ Dulcia said.
‘Boys,’ Mila explained. ‘And the occasional dwarf.’
His amused gaze moved between them.
‘Remus? As in Remus Latinius?’
Remus beamed at Mila. She was annoyed that her sister, who knew nothing about gladiators, had somehow heard of him.
‘You a fighter like your sister?’ Remus asked.
Dulcia recoiled at the suggestion.
‘My sister has no desire to hold a sword. Though I have seen her become rather aggressive while kneading dough.’
Remus laughed at that, and Mila found herself pleased by his reaction. She took in his face before looking down at her sister. ‘We better get these lemons back before the cook sends a search party.’
‘Will you be going to the games at Amphitheatrum Neronis with your domina?’ he asked, stopping her with his words.
She looked up at him. ‘Unlikely. I do not normally accompany Aquila out of the house. The only reason I accompanied her last night was because her usual slave was ill.’ She hesitated before asking the question burning her throat. ‘Do women fight at Amphitheatrum Neronis?’
‘Trained women do. Our emperor isn’t a big fan of women fighting, but he gets that the people like it.’
They watched one another for a moment.
‘Will you be attending?’ she asked.
He nodded. ‘Ludus Magnus provides many of the fighters.’
She was annoyed at herself for asking such a stupid question. ‘Nerva is looking into opportunities for me. Perhaps I will suggest the event to him.’ She spoke to his chest.
‘You beat one dwarf. Now you think you’re ready to fight a trained gladiator?’
‘Felix was trained.’
‘As a paegniarius. He is a performer.’
She looked up. ‘You told me I was good.’
‘For someone with no training.’
Dulcia spoke up at that. ‘I have seen my sister beat men your size.’
Mila was torn between muzzling the girl and hugging her. ‘Not men, boys,’ she repeated.
Remus watched her. ‘Come as a spectator first, see what you’d be up against.’
She swallowed down her disappointment, though she did not know if it stemmed from the lost opportunity or Remus not believing she was up to the task. ‘You have forgotten what it is to be a slave. I cannot go where I please.’
He glanced at Dulcia and then at his feet. ‘I haven’t forgotten.’
After a long silence, Mila said, ‘We should go.’
He stepped back from them, then looked at Dulcia. ‘Keep your sister out of trouble.’
‘You are the second person to say that to me today.’
Remus raised his eyebrows, looking to Mila for confirmation.
She shook her head. ‘Nerva was speaking of something else entirely.’
‘No he was not,’ Dulcia protested. Mila’s response came in the form of a push to start walking.
Remus remained where he was, a smirk on his face. ‘Good day.’
‘Good day,’ she mumbled to the pavement, hearing laughter in his tone.
She was down the street when she finally worked up the courage to look behind her. He stood in the same spot with his arms crossed in front of him, smile gone, still watching her.
Chapter 7
The early morning sun was warm on Remus’s bare arms. He stood in the middle of the arena at Ludus Magnus, eyes moving between the pairs, assessing their fitness, their technique. Two men would be selected for combat at Amphitheatrum Neronis in five days. It was his responsibility to pick the best and ensure that they walked away with all their limbs intact while fighters from other schools did not.
He glanced over to where Fausta trained with Titus, a former gladiator who had recently been promoted to trainer and had been abusing the privilege ever since. After twelve years of being pushed to the breaking point, it seemed he was eager to inflict harsher training methods on the gladiators in his charge. Even more of a concern was his reputation for ensuring “women knew their place” among men. That meant Remus was forced to keep an eye on Titus whenever he trained Fausta. The former prostitute understood men, and she had learned early on how to handle them. But she could not match them in strength, and Titus liked to remind her of that fact.
Pressing his toes into the sand, Remus’s thoughts went to Mila. That was happening a lot lately, and it did not matter how many women he snuck into the barracks late in the evenings—nothing was enough to rid him of her.
‘Remus,’ Felix called, striding across the sand towards him.
Remus looked up. The dwarf pointed to the cavea where Nerva Papias was seated alone, watching the men train. An irrational surge of panic pelted his insides. ‘What’s he doing here?’
Felix shook his head. ‘Want me to find out?’
Seeing that he had been spotted, Nerva raised a hand in greeting.
‘Have him meet me beneath the portico,’ Remus said, raising a hand also. Once Felix had left, he turned to the new recruits in his charge. ‘Swords down!’ he instructed. ‘Get some water.’
Walking towards the exit, dismissing his illogical anxiety, he watched as the young nobleman approached, his relaxed expression easing his fears of bad news. ‘Nerva,’ he said, extending his arm. ‘Good day to you.’
‘And you,’ Nerva replied, gripping his wrist and then letting go.
Felix was standing with his arms folded, feet wide, watching the exchange. ‘Nerva has come to ask your help with something.’
‘Oh?’ Remus asked, the uneasy feeling returning.
Nerva nodded. ‘I apologise for interrupting. I am afraid I do not have many contacts in gladiator circles.’
Remus glanced at the men being served water by a slave girl. They drank greedily. ‘That’s enough!’ he called to them. ‘You’ll only bring it up again!’ His gaze returned to Nerva. ‘What do you think I can help you with?’
Nerva exhaled. ‘Mila.’
One word and the nobleman had his full attention. ‘The slave girl?’ As if it needed clarifying.
‘Yes. I foolishly agreed to let her fight again, on the condition that it was one time only. She has the crazy idea that she can earn enough money to buy her freedom.’
Remus frowned. ‘From one fight?’
Nerva looked around. ‘She assures me it is one win.’
Felix spoke up at that. ‘Even if she wins, it will not be enough to buy her freedom, unless your father is particularly generous.’
Nerva looked between them. ‘She has a little coin saved and has asked me to give it to Gallus Minidius to invest. She is fighting at the Amphitheatrum Neronis next week.’
Remus was afraid of that. ‘So she’s backing herself and trusting Gallus with everything she has?’
Nerva nodded. ‘She is a creative thinker.’
‘I would go with naive,’ Felix said.
The men glanced at him and he raised his hands, signalling his silence.
‘Why don’t you give her the difference?’ Remus asked. ‘You care enough to indulge her insanity.’
Nerva crossed his arms and glanced down at his feet. ‘Because she cannot buy her freedom with my family’s money. My mother would never allow it.’
‘So don’t tell her.’
‘Ha! You do not know my mother. If she wants to find something out, she will.’
Remus considered this for a moment. ‘What happens when they learn how the coin was raised?’
Shrugging, Nerva replied, ‘It will be too late then.’
‘Your father might say no to the sale.’
‘He might.’
Remus rested his hands on his hips. ‘And what if she loses? She have an answer for that?’
‘One fight. That is her promise. If she loses, it is over. She has been fighting on the streets for nearly four years, and she has given it all to Gallus. It seems she knows something we do not.’
Felix shook his head, and Remus stared at his feet.
‘She is certain she will win,’ Nerva added.
‘She’s wrong,’ Remus said simply, looking up. ‘There’s every chance she’ll be matched with one of our own.’ He gestured to Fausta. ‘I trained that one myself, and she’ll beat your… slave.’ He did not dare say ‘sister’.
As Nerva stood processing those words, Brutus wandered out to check on things. Seeing the gladiators in Remus’s charge were resting, he made his way over, his gaze moving over Nerva as he came to a stop in front of them.
‘Why are your men not fighting?’ he asked, not bothering with introductions.
Nerva took in the greying lanista with more scars on his face than fingers and shoulders the width of an ox.
‘I am afraid I am to blame for that.’
‘And who are you?’ Brutus asked.
‘Nerva Papias.’
Recognising the name, he extended an arm. ‘And what’s your business here?’
Remus glanced at Felix, knowing Brutus would agree to anything for the right price. Nerva explained the situation. When he was done, Brutus asked, ‘What is it you want Remus to do?’
Nerva held a hand to his forehead, blocking the low sun hitting his face. ‘I am to attend the games with my father. I would like him to keep watch over her on the day, take her to and from the arena, and whatever else you do for your own gladiators. I will not pretend to know what is involved.’
Brutus nodded. ‘Remus will take care of the girl, for a fee.’
And there it was.
Nerva did not seem surprised by the request. ‘Of course. I would never assume your time to be free.’ Noticing Remus’s reluctance, he said, ‘One fight. Win or lose, that is it. She has given her word.’
Remus wanted to refuse, but he knew Brutus would simply give the task to another trainer—Titus, perhaps. If Mila was going ahead with her crazy plan, she would need someone to help navigate her through it, and it was better if it was him.
‘She doesn’t know you’re here?’ Remus asked.
Nerva smiled. ‘I am not sure if you have noticed this about her, but she is rather independent.’
Remus nodded. ‘I might’ve guessed that about her.’