A Gladiator's Oath

by Tanya Bird

  ‘He is too old to be running about in a lady’s room. He is meant to be with Albaus undertaking real work. Can he even use a dagger?’

  Mila stared at the boy, a year younger than her sister, expected to be a man. ‘A dagger for what?’ she asked.

  ‘To drive through the stomach of any person who poses a threat to this household,’ Prisca snapped. She narrowed her eyes on him. ‘From now on, you are to remain with Albaus and leave Sabina to her work.’ She turned away. ‘And for heaven’s sake, have him teach you how to use a weapon.’

  Nero looked bewildered, no doubt wondering what on earth he had done wrong. Sabina chewed her bottom lip.

  Clearing her throat, Mila said, ‘The men in the stables tend to treat him unkindly.’

  ‘All the more reason for him to learn how to use a dagger.’ She waved the boy away. ‘Go on now. Find Albaus.’

  ‘He grew up in a brothel,’ Sabina said. ‘He’s desensitised to the naked form, if that’s your concern.’

  ‘As a boy, that might be true, but soon he will be a man.’

  When Nero hesitated, Mila gestured to the door. Albaus would take care of him. It was not the time to try and negotiate.

  Sabina picked up the basin of dirty water and left the room. Mila began combing Prisca’s hair, leaving the subject alone.

  ‘How goes it with Remus?’ Prisca asked, once they were alone.

  Mila kept the brushstrokes even. ‘My fitness continues to improve. We are now using weapons, so that is a good sign.’

  Prisca stared ahead. ‘Is he still bringing those cheap whores back to the barracks?’

  More even strokes. ‘Remus?’ She wanted her domina to say another name.

  ‘Yes, Remus.’

  Mila wished she had taken the basin of water. ‘I would not know. We barely speak, and never about such things.’

  ‘Does he speak of me? Perhaps he wishes to know who visits my bed nowadays?’

  Mila blinked, practising steady hands. ‘He has not asked, and if he did, I would never tell him.’

  ‘I would be happy for you to tell him if there was something to share. Obliging my husband on occasion is not particularly newsworthy, is it?’

  She had no idea how to answer. ‘I can tell him whatever you like.’

  She pushed Mila’s hands away. ‘Anything you offer will be taken as construed, a tactic to make him jealous. I shall not give him the satisfaction.’

  Mila stepped back.

  ‘It is still hot. I will need two fans this evening until the air cools.’

  It took the longest time for the room to fade to black. The women stood on either side of the bed, a lotus leaf in hand, not speaking. A slave disturbing their domina was unthinkable.

  Mila wondered how she might secure a place at Prisca’s side for the dinner party. To lay eyes on her sister in that familiar house, to hear Nerva’s laugh, to listen to her mother’s familiar hums. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel the stroke of her sister’s fingers through her hair.

  She felt her body jolt as sleep tried to take her. The training tired her in a way she had never experienced before. Not only did every muscle ache, but she had developed the ability to fall asleep in an instant. It was a blessing during lonely nights and a curse when she was supposed to stay awake fanning her domina.

  She looked across at Sabina, finding her in a similar state, blinking away sleep. Perhaps she was missing her family too. Many of them had died back in Armenia; the others she would likely never see again. The only family she had was the woman she served and a young orphan she was not allowed to keep.

  Mila’s arms began to cramp. She had given everything to Remus that afternoon. ‘Go to bed,’ she whispered to Sabina. ‘The air is cooling. I will stay a little longer.’

  Sabina nodded her thanks and went to wash. Mila stared down at her sleeping domina, remembering the conversation she had with Nerva before she was sold. An image formed in her mind of Prisca and Remus, a tangle of limbs beneath her fan. She wondered how often Remus had laid in that bed, bathing in the soft hair Mila brushed every day. She had no right to feel the way she did, but jealousy coiled within her.

  As far as she knew, their affair was over. But what about all the other women? He was probably with someone at the barracks that very moment. Many women went searching for good-looking gladiators like him. He was the ultimate prize.

  Sabina returned to the room, pulling the small bed out from beneath Prisca’s large one. Within moments, soft, even breaths filled the room. Later, when the air had cooled enough to sleep in comfort, Mila did the same. Sleep should have swallowed her, but the moment she closed her eyes, Remus played in her mind. She opened her eyes so it would stop, holding them open for as long as she could. She tried to think about her family, her training, the upcoming fight, Prisca’s volatile mood. Anything but him. Finally, she was rewarded with sleep so deep all thoughts left her.

  In the morning, she opened her eyes to grey light, and Remus flooded her mind once again. In her half-asleep state, she saw his steady gaze on her, heard his voice, soft that time. She felt his hands. She shifted beneath her blanket and reminded herself that those hands were for other women, not the one he was preparing for the arena.

  She closed her eyes again, willing sleep to return, but it was no good. Remus Latinius had woken something within her, and she had no idea how to rid herself of him.

  Chapter 17

  One thing that really got under Mila’s skin was the ease with which Remus moved and fought while she struggled to avoid the precise blows of his sword. The few times she did make contact, she did not hold back.

  ‘Good,’ he said, breath even.

  But she saw the questions in his eyes, no doubt wondering where her newfound energy stemmed from.

  ‘All right, stop,’ he said.

  When she did not listen, he knocked the sword from her hand. It landed in the sand some distance away. He lowered his shield and studied her.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  They were training amid other gladiators and had to speak up to hear one another.

  She dropped her shield and rested her hands on her hips, trying to catch her breath. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You’re angry.’

  ‘I am trying to beat you. You want me to smile?’ The truth was she did feel angry, but she had no right to be.

  Remus exhaled and looked to the heavens for strength to continue the conversation. ‘I’ve been doing this a long time. I’ve learned a thing or two about people.’ She refused to meet his eye. ‘Something I’ve done?’

  ‘No,’ she said, finally looking at him. ‘You want me to fight harder, and when I do, you stop me to talk about it.’

  ‘Because you’re angry.’

  She felt like she was losing her mind. She was supposed to be focused on the fight, on her freedom, on anything but him. If she could just find a valid reason to hate him…

  ‘I’m trying to figure out what has you in such a foul mood. We can use it to our advantage.’

  ‘My advantage.’

  He frowned. ‘What?’

  ‘Use it to my advantage. You said “our”.’

  He shifted, amusement in his eyes. ‘You’ve a problem with me saying “our”?’

  Why had she said that? ‘It is a bit misleading. When the time comes for me to fight, there will be no us in the arena, only me, the slave you beat up for a few hours every afternoon.’ She sounded like a child and wished the gods would strike her down in that moment. Anything to shut her up.

  He regarded her for a moment before walking over and picking up her sword. ‘All right, slave. Won’t make that mistake again.’ Coming to a stop in front of her, he took her hand and closed her fingers around the weapon, then collected the shield and did the same.

  Heat pulsed through her as his hands wrapped hers.

  ‘You’ve had your moment. Ready to get back to work?’ he asked, looking down at her.

  He was so close she could feel
his breath on her when he spoke. She did not look up, concentrating instead on the task of not trembling.

  ‘Yes,’ she replied, trying to bring strength to her voice.

  He stepped around her, his fingers dragging along her arm and settling against her elbow. His other hand held her shoulder, his lips coming close to her ear. ‘See how easily I disarmed you before?’

  Yes, she had seen. She nodded. He slid the hand on her left shoulder down to her wrist, making the hairs on her arm stand on end. He raised her shield so the top of it was level with her chin.

  ‘You’re going to keep it at that height.’

  His voice hummed in her ear, and she worried that if he asked her to move, her limbs might not obey. His fingers slid down to meet hers.

  ‘Open your hand so your fingers tip the shield flat.’

  She did as she was told.

  ‘Get used to the weight. Practice balancing it.’

  She moved her arm, focusing on keeping the shield horizontal. He leaned closer.

  ‘In a moment, you’re going to grip the handle nice and tight and thrust it forwards as hard as you can.’

  He released her hand and elbow, stepping back from her. She released the breath she had been holding and focused on the shield, not the cooling parts of skin where his hands had been.

  ‘Now,’ he said in a firm voice.

  She gripped the handle and thrust it forwards.

  ‘Again,’ he shouted. ‘We’re breaking noses, not dancing.’

  There was that “we” again.

  She thrust harder, feeling the force of it in her bones.

  ‘Again!’

  A growl formed in her throat, escaping as she thrust one last time.

  ‘Good,’ he said, stepping into her vision.

  They looked at one another, and she saw something in his eyes, in the way his gaze fell away. Whatever physical reaction she was having to him, she was fairly certain it was mutual.

  A clap sounded nearby, and they both turned to see Prisca and Sabina sitting in the cavea, watching them. Prisca sat with a straight back and an amused smile on her face. Sabina wore a worried expression.

  ‘Heavens, Remus, your methods have evolved a great deal. More… hands on.’ She stood and Sabina rose also.

  Remus managed to hide his surprise at seeing her. ‘Lady Prisca. Didn’t know you were here. Checking up on me?’

  Her teeth flashed. ‘Checking up on Mila. However, after seeing the nature of the lesson, I wonder if my own skills might need sharpening.’

  Her tone was playful, but the venom beneath it was not lost on Mila. She looked away, not wanting to watch the exchange.

  ‘Your husband would have me fed to the dogs if he found out.’

  Her smile grew. ‘You are right. My husband is forgiving of most things, but not the use of weapons.’

  Mila glanced over at Sabina, whose expression had not changed.

  ‘Come now, Mila,’ Prisca said, clapping her hands. ‘Let us see all that you have learned these past weeks.’

  Remus and Mila looked at one another, then away. As Remus bent to collect the swords, Prisca laughed.

  ‘Goodness. Fetch the girl a real sword.’

  Remus straightened and then gestured for Nero to fetch some weapons from the storeroom. The boy was desperate to be useful, always hanging on Remus’s every word. Albaus went with him. Prisca and Sabina sat down again, waiting for the display to begin.

  Nero burst back into the arena, hugging two swords to his chest.

  ‘Thank you,’ Mila said, taking one from him.

  After giving the other to Remus, Nero collected the wooden swords from the ground and moved out of their way. Mila and Remus looked at one another, then down at the weapons in their hands. He waited for a signal that she was ready. She gave a small nod, her feet shuffling in the sand. She was so used to the feel of it, she was sure combat on a firm surface would completely throw her ability.

  Remus struck first, a familiar sequence of blows—predictable, with nowhere near the force he used with the wooden swords. She responded with the techniques he had taught her, feeling strong and in control. It was easy when he was holding back.

  ‘You are getting soft, Remus,’ Prisca called. ‘How is Mila to survive the arena if you go easy on her?’

  Remus’s jaw tightening was the only indication he had heard. Then came his attack, fast and relentless, each blow depleting Mila until she finally tired out, but she kept pushing on.

  Clang, clash, clang.

  Mila’s sword flew from her hand and Remus’s foot crashed into her chest, throwing her backwards into the sand. The cold tip of his sword was pressed against her neck. She tried to take in air, but nothing happened. He had winded her.

  Another clap from Prisca.

  ‘There he is,’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘Best way for her to learn. I can see the improvement, but she has some way to go.’

  A shadow covered Mila, and she looked up to see Remus staring down at her. ‘You good?’

  She slowed her breathing and nodded. He offered his hand. She glanced at it before pushing herself up and stepping past him, coughing a few times, eyes on her feet. ‘Do you want us to go again, Era?’ she called to her domina. She felt Remus’s gaze on her.

  Prisca was silent, eyes on Remus.

  ‘Think that’s enough for today,’ he said. ‘You’re tiring.’

  ‘She does not look tired,’ Prisca called.

  ‘It’s enough for today,’ he said again.

  Mila just nodded. ‘Nero! Time to go.’

  The boy jogged over to her, sand spraying up at Albaus, who trailed after him. She looked at Remus but did not say a word. There was something in his expression, something that made her look away.

  ‘Usual time tomorrow,’ he called after her.

  Chapter 18

  Remus looked at the sun to gauge the time, then glanced once more at the entrance. The afternoon was slipping away, and there was still no sign of Mila. He had a feeling something was off but hoped he was wrong. Prisca was a complicated woman, and not the first to be disappointed by his waning interest. He had ended the affair the moment he was freed, promising himself he would only bed women of his choosing, not those Brutus described as “good for business”. It was not that she was unattractive, far from it, but that she was married, a fact that did not sit comfortably. She also happened to be demanding, and Remus did not have the time or patience for it. While she had eventually accepted the fact that their affair was over, she was jealous by nature. Mila’s improved fighting skills had not been the only thing Prisca had witnessed the day prior. Nothing escaped that woman, and he doubted his facade had been enough.

  ‘Has she given up already?’ Fausta quipped as she passed him. Her left eye was swollen shut, and sand clung to her wet skin.

  ‘Clean yourself up,’ he called to her back.

  Felix passed her from the other direction, wincing at the sight of her injury. He stopped next to Remus, who was pretending to watch the two men training in front of him while really watching the entrance behind them.

  ‘Hope there is still an eyeball under that mess,’ Felix said.

  ‘She’ll live.’

  Felix looked around. ‘Where are Mila and that big chatty fellow?’

  ‘He’s mute.’

  ‘Ah, that explains a lot.’

  Remus ran his hands through his untrimmed hair. ‘Prisca came past yesterday. Now no Mila.’

  Felix made a pained face. ‘That woman is finely tuned to sexual tension.’

  Remus glanced at him. ‘Mila was showing her skills. Prisca said I was going easy on her.’

  ‘Were you?’

  Remus rested his hands on his hips. ‘I’m training the girl, not defeating her. Woman insisted on real swords.’

  A smile spread across Felix’s face. ‘So you were going easy on her. You like her, I get it. Prisca has never recovered from being rejected. Taking up with her slave is like salt to an open wound.’


  Remus looked to the heavens for strength. ‘I haven’t taken up with her.’

  Felix shrugged. ‘Prisca does not know that. You should have remembered your gladiator face. Now she knows your secret.’

  ‘My secret?’

  ‘Not much of a secret, really. Fausta saw it the first time she saw the two of you together.’

  ‘Saw what?’

  Felix gestured between them as he struggled to find the word. ‘Feelings.’

  Remus shook his head and watched as one of the men plummeted face first into the sand before getting up onto his hands and knees, spitting.

  ‘What are you worried about?’ Felix asked. ‘Prisca will send her elsewhere? There is no better training than here.’

  ‘Don’t know. We’ll find out soon enough.’

  Felix crossed his arms. ‘Never seen you smitten with a girl.’

  ‘Smitten?’ He signalled for the men to begin again. ‘She’s attractive. Won’t deny that.’

  ‘What man would?’

  ‘But nothing can happen.’

  Felix frowned. ‘Why not?’

  Before he could answer, Mila walked in, eyes searching. When her gaze fixed on him, Remus took a step in her direction and then stopped when he saw her entourage: Albaus with Nero behind, Brutus in front, Titus at her side.

  ‘This isn’t good,’ he breathed so only Felix could hear.

  Mila eyes never left him as they approached. He knew he had to play it casual while he found out what was happening.

  ‘You’re late,’ he said, as though it were any other day and the others were not standing with her.

  Brutus spoke up, not one to waste time. ‘The girl will be training with Titus for the remaining days.’

  Remus listened, kept calm. ‘Why?’

  ‘Lady Prisca wants her pushed harder,’ Titus chimed in.

  Remus did not look at him, his eyes on Brutus. ‘I’m pushing her as hard as I can without injuring her.’

  The lanista’s face was creased against the sun. ‘The lady has her reasons.’