The Champion

by Carla Capshaw

  Tibi choked on an olive. Alexius thrust her cup toward her. “Are you all right?”

  She swallowed some water. Her throat and her surprise back under control, she nodded. “Does your friend always offer assistance when you bring a woman here?”

  “What makes you think I’ve brought other women here?”

  “Haven’t you?”

  He shrugged. “Only the most special ones.”

  Her food lost all its appeal. She could only imagine how many “special ones” there’d been in his life. She wished she was special to him, but didn’t delude herself into thinking he’d brought her here for any reason other than he’d needed a place to hide her and feed the cub while they waited to return to the ludus. “If we’re counting just the special ones, I assume there have been a hundred at the very least.”

  He eyed her thoughtfully. “I don’t keep count.”

  “You mean you’ve lost count.”

  “If you believe so.”

  Her brow pleated with indecision. She didn’t know what to believe about Alexius of Iolcos. He was an enigma who confused and fascinated her in equal measure.

  Marcellus returned to collect the dirty crockery. She complimented him on the food, then felt inadequate with her praise when Alexius raved about the lamb and even the fennel, which she was sure he’d had no taste for.

  “I’ll bring you some figs and more water,” Marcellus said happily, on his way back indoors.

  With her stomach full and her view of Alexius unhindered, she listened to the gentle splash of the fountain and the chirping of a pair of birds nesting on top of the wall. When she’d run to the ludus before sunrise, she could never have imagined the day turning out as well as it had. Whatever consequences she faced for her actions, at least she’d had these few precious hours of respite with her handsome Greek.

  “What are you thinking?” Alexius leaned forward and crossed his arms on the tabletop in front of him.

  “That I’m thankful I had this day with you.”

  His expression softened. “I’m thankful, too.”

  The air became cooler as late afternoon turned to early evening. “I suppose we have to go back soon. I have to face my fate.”

  He frowned in apparent rejection of the idea. “We have time. I’m not finished with you.”

  “Not finished with me?” Her heart quickened. “How so?”

  “I want to know more about you. Before the food arrived, you were telling me your opinion of the Nazarene’s religion. Now that I can hear you over the growl of your stomach—”

  “You exaggerate—”

  “Tell me your thoughts on the matter. Have you decided to become one of His followers?”

  Chapter Six

  “I want to believe in Him. I do.” She’d never admitted that particular truth to anyone in the past. She found it liberating, as though the very air was lighter. “As a small child I always envied Pelonia. My uncle Pelonius doted on her. She was the jewel in his crown while I was viewed as a piece of broken glass.” She disliked the pity in his eyes. She cleared her throat and sought to sound more matter-of-fact. “When I was seven I asked Uncle why he found Pelonia special—Even then I sought answers to questions that were none of my concern.”

  “A child should ask as many questions as she wants.” “My family disagrees with you. A daughter isn’t supposed to ask questions. She’s meant to follow and obey.” She reached for a wisteria bloom and breathed in the floral notes. “Uncle was the kindest, most patient of men. He told me Pelonia was a gift to him from his God. That God loved me as well. It was the first time anyone told me I was cared for. That was the moment I began to wish I knew his God.”

  “And now? What keeps you from following Him? The authorities?”

  She shook her head. “I have no wish for death, but I’ve seen my cousins and their friends face the same threat and thrive.”

  “Then what is it?”

  She hesitated. He was asking for her deepest thoughts. Truths she found far from easy to admit after all the years she’d sought to be indifferent to her family’s dissatisfaction with her. “It’s foolish, I know, but as hard as I’ve tried not to care about my father’s good opinion of me, there’s a part of my heart that continues to wish for his acceptance. I hate that it’s so, but I long for his approval. Becoming one of the Christians…” She shook her head. “I think my father would cart me off to the Coliseum and push me into the lions’ den himself.”

  Alexius’s square jaw tightened and his lips compressed into a harsh line. “Tiberius is the foolish one, Tibi, not you. Whether you were given from the Christian God or Hera, the queen of heaven, you are a gift. It pains me that your father’s lies have blinded you to the truth.”

  Tibi regarded him in speechless amazement, unable to fathom where his declaration had come from. As far as she knew, he’d never given her a second thought after the previous occasions they’d met. She suspected that he was being kind out of loyalty to her cousins because, try as she might, she wasn’t able to see anything remotely special about herself.

  “You don’t believe me, do you?”

  “No,” she whispered. “I don’t.”

  Marcellus brought the figs he’d promised. He sat a shallow bowl of the wine-poached fruit on the table, apparently unaware of the renewed tension between them. “This year’s crop will make your mouth rejoice. Shall I order more music? More water?”

  Several of the tables had been filled as the dinner hour drew near. The murmur of voices and bursts of laughter vied with the splash of the fountain. As she drank from her refilled cup, she noticed Alexius frowning at something or someone behind her. “What is the matter?”

  “Don’t turn around,” he warned in a low tone that sent a shiver of apprehension down her spine. “Galerius Basilius just arrived.”

  A wave of panic crashed over her. Basilius was her brother-in-law’s fiercest competition in his bid for advancement within the Senate. Tiberia had already warned that Antonius’s bid for consul wasn’t going well. Tibi had no doubt that Basilius, a cunning and manipulative rival, would recognize her on sight. Their two families had mingled socially on many occasions in the three years since her sister’s marriage. If Basilius saw her with Alexius, she doubted that he’d hesitate to use the meeting to his advantage. The emperor appointed the candidates for consul who were later elected by their peers in the Senate. Much damage could be inflicted by questioning the morals of a candidate’s family and she was already considered a liability by her relatives.

  Lies were spun in Rome like the webs of a thousand spiders, but deceit wasn’t needed to poison her name. Indeed, gossip might be kinder than the truth in her case today. Here she was alone in the company of a notorious gladiator, in an establishment favored by the lower classes in an effort to escape her own father. Tiberia was correct. Her intentions may be innocent, but she managed to create turmoil wherever she went.

  “What do you recommend?” she asked, despising herself more with each passing moment. “Shall I try to leave without being seen?”

  “Too late. He’s coming this way. Keep your head down and your face hidden. He has no reason to suspect it’s you in servant’s garb.”

  “Alexius!” She recognized the newcomer’s raspy voice. “How fortuitous to meet you here. It’s been too long since I last saw you, my friend.”

  “Much too long,” Alexius replied amicably as he stood from his chair.

  “I’ve been meaning to contact you. I’m certain to win my rightful place as consul in a few weeks. I want to hire at least twenty of your men to use in my celebratory entertainments.”

  “Twenty men is child’s play. A new consul should sponsor at least a fortnight’s worth of games to thank the mob for his rise in power.”

  “Oh, I plan to thank the plebs—have no fear. The twenty men will serve for the amusement of my family and closest friends.”

  “It will cost more if you plan to fight them to the death.”

  “Of course
,” Basilius rasped. “I expected no less.”

  Strong fingers banded around Tibi’s upper arm. Alexius tugged her to her feet and smoothly moved to stand in front of her. “As long as we understand each another. Send your man to meet with my steward. Velus will make the arrangements.”

  Tibi bristled at Basilius’s arrogance. He hadn’t won yet. A celebration was premature in her opinion. Alexius’s willingness to profit from her brother-in-law’s supposed defeat rankled. Did he agree that Antonius was a lost cause? She worried at her lower lip. In Rome, security depended on power and position. Social status often hung by a thread. If Antonius’s favor dwindled, so did her entire family’s.

  Alexius followed her inside the main dining room where every seat was taken and the swell of conversation flowed freely. His hand dropped away from her taut spine. He paid for their food, sent his regards to Dora and made arrangements with Marcellus for the cub’s care.

  A slave awaited them outside, Calisto’s reins in his hand. Long shadows marked the passage of time and the arrival of early evening. The cooler temperature brought people into the street to visit with their neighbors or conclude their business affairs for the day.

  Tibi’s thoughts refused to settle. The threads of her life were thorny vines being woven into a pattern of unavoidable despair. The arrival of Basilius had been a tipping point, proving that no matter how far she traveled or how obscure a place she went, Nemesis would find her. The threat of her father’s wrath and the terrifying changes she had to face in the next few days formed an endless circle of anxiety within her head.

  They started back through the labyrinth of streets and alleyways, the smell of smoke thick in the air. An occasional call of a mother to her children or other raised voices punctuated the golden haze of sunset.

  “What’s wrong, Tibi? You haven’t spoken a word since we left the thermopolium. If you’re worried that Basilius recognized you, you don’t need to be.”

  “How do you know that?” she asked in a waspish voice meant to sting. “You were too busy betraying my family to notice if the old goat even looked in my direction.”

  Alexius stopped dead. Calisto whined and nearly bumped into him as Alexius turned slowly to look at her with a mix of angry curiosity and rampant disbelief. “It’s true then.”

  “What?” she snapped, unable to rein in her conflicting emotions.

  “You do turn into a gorgon at sundown. If I push back your hood and look into your eyes, will I change into stone? How long before your hair forms into vipers?”

  “You’re impossible.” She stalked onward, aware that she was being unreasonable, but unable to help herself.

  Alexius latched on to her upper arm and whipped her around to face him. She shrank back from his wrathful height, but he held her with an iron grasp. His narrowed eyes glittered in the half light. “A word of caution, my lady. Don’t turn your back on a gladiator you’ve just insulted and never, ever dismiss me again as though I’m dirt beneath your feet.”

  “I’m sor-sorry,” she choked, her throat tight with shame and rising fear. She began to tremble. He may have promised not to hurt her earlier, but she’d been lied to before. His wit and charm made her relax around him, but he was a man steeped in violence. She had no way to know if he was trustworthy.

  “Now, you’d best explain. What’s this betrayal you’ve accused me of?”

  “What else would you call supplying your men to celebrate with Basilius—”

  “Good business.”

  “—if not a sign that you agree Antonius is bound to be passed over by the emperor?”

  “I have no interest in politics or the games of government, but this I know. Your brother-in-law is a decent enough politician, but his arrogance has cut him off from the people. Why do think Basilius was in that thermopolium this afternoon? Because he’s common?”

  She shook her head. “No, his family is ancient and as important or more so than that of Antonius.”

  “Exactly. But Basilius knows the road to power is built on a foundation of the mob’s goodwill. Every move the emperor makes is to consolidate his power and pacify the masses. He’ll choose his candidates for consul from the senators most favored by the plebs to show respect for the common citizens. Something your beloved brother-in-law either no longer cares about or has forgotten.”

  “That may be,” she said, suddenly understanding why he’d told Basilius two weeks’ worth of games was necessary to thank the mob for his rise in power. “But you are one of Caros’s best friends. Don’t you think you owe his family your loyalty?”

  “His family?” he scoffed. “Don’t pretend a single one of your self-important clan has embraced him—a wretched gladiator—as a true relative.”

  “I have! I love him dearly.”

  “You are not your family, Tibi. It’s because you did accept Caros that I bothered to help you at all.” He dropped his hands from her arms as though she’d caught leprosy. “If you bore the slightest resemblance to that pack of rats you call kin, I would have sent you back to them the moment you barged into my home this morning.”

  Mortified to hear his true thoughts on her appearance in his life, Tibi grappled for a reply, but no adequate apology or explanation came to her. “You must think I’m insane.”

  “A little,” he said gruffly. “Who wouldn’t be after what you’ve faced since yesterday?”

  His compassion was the last thing she’d expected. How pathetic she must seem to a man as strong and self-possessed as Alexius.

  “But then so am I.”

  “You?”

  “Hmm…” His calloused palm cupped her cheek. The pad of his thumb brushed the curve of her lower lip. “Most of all I think you’re lost. You’re a ship without sail or direction.”

  She hung her head, horrified by how easily Alexius—of all people—saw into her soul when everyone else seemed blind. Lost described her entire existence. She’d spent her life wandering, searching for a place to belong and always being rejected.

  She moved to pass him, raw to her core and afraid that since he’d seen how adrift she was, he might also see how desperately she yearned for him to be her safe harbor.

  Hot tears of frustration and heartbreak burned her eyes. She cursed herself as an idiota. Last night, she’d viewed being banished to a temple as the ultimate punishment. Now she knew differently. Worse was discovering that the one man she’d ever truly cared for was forever off-limits to her. Why must her heart always long for what she could never have?

  “Tibi, wait.” Alexius’s hand fell on her shoulder, keeping her from running until her legs gave out from under her. He turned her to face him. Darkness had fallen, casting his chiseled features into shadow. “I had no right to say you’re lost. Not when I’m in that same rudderless boat.”

  “How so?” she asked, genuinely perplexed. “You are Alexius of Iolcos, Rome’s darling of the Coliseum. Women flock to you. Men idolize you. Even the emperor opens his doors to you in welcome. You couldn’t possibly understand what it is to have no place, nowhere to fit in. To despise every day because you’re an outsider even among your own family.”

  “I understand more than you realize, Tibi. I’m a foreigner who longs for home. A gladiator whose entire world depends on the good graces of a fickle mob.”

  “The mob loves you! Everyone loves you.” I love you, her heart screamed, but fear of his rejection kept her mouth welded shut.

  A notch formed between his silky eyebrows. “You think I care about the goodwill of a bunch of strangers? They may love me today, but if I falter so much as a hairsbreadth, they’ll be chanting for my death the first time they get the chance.”

  “Then retire! No one is stopping you,” she said, willing him to abandon the dangers of the arena forever. “Leave the field as the champion you are and never return.”

  The tortured expression that crossed his face cut like a dagger through her heart. When had his pain become her own?

  “You don’t understand, Tibi.”r />
  “Then explain,” she said. “Help me understand.”

  Long, tension-filled moments passed between them. In his eyes, she saw the struggle he couldn’t hide as he warred with specters that haunted him from the past.

  “You can tell me,” she urged softly. “I’ll keep your secrets.”

  His jaw hardened and his beautiful eyes turned grim in silent rejection of her plea. “Let’s make haste. Caros and Pelonia may be waiting for you at the ludus.”

  He turned on his heel, drawing Calisto down the moonlit alley. Tibi watched him go. His broad shoulders seemed bowed beneath the weight of the world. In that moment, her deepest wish was to understand his complicated mind and soul, to be the one he turned to for comfort.

  Before they left the thermopolium, he’d called her agape mou—my love. She wasn’t capricious enough to believe he’d meant the endearment in a literal sense—he probably called all of his admirers the same thing or something similar—but her traitorous heart refused to relinquish the hope that, given enough time, he might come to trust her. To regard her as a friend, since the circumstances of their lives prevented her from being anything more to him.

  Alexius rounded a corner. She hiked the hem of her cloak to midshin and sprinted along the deserted street to catch up. It was difficult for her to understand, but he seemed to feel as alone as she did. With that common ground between them, perhaps, just perhaps, they could somehow find a place in the world to belong together.

  Alexius spent the long walk back to the training school listening for Tibi’s footsteps to ensure that she never trailed too far behind him. He cursed the Fates who were toying with him as easily as a child launching a parchment boat into white-capped waves. How was it possible that in the space of a few hours one small, exquisite young woman had managed to turn him on his head?

  The flaming torches posted on either side of the ludus’s iron gates were a welcome sight. Inside the courtyard, Alexius handed Calisto’s reins to a stable hand. Velus met him with an anxious expression and two small scrolls, their wax seals already broken.