'But not to you.'
'In private? Never. He has a quick temper for those who cross him.' Julia's throat started to close again. She forced her back straighter. 'I disgusted him—too many curves.'
Valens was at her side, gathering her into his arms. He cradled her, stroked her hair, smoothed it away from her face.
'Why did you divorce?' he asked.
'One evening after the baths, I walked in and found him in our bed…with a boy. He beat me and I finally snapped. I could not stay in that house, so I walked out.' Julia pressed her hands together. There was no need to tell Valens the entire sordid story. 'I had had enough of the gilded prison. On this occasion, Sabina was in Ostia, visiting friends, and my father believed me. He wasn't happy about it, but I was able to divorce Lucius with my father's blessing.'
She waited to hear what Valens would say, but he looked at her with an inscrutable expression.
'I'm sorry,' she said, tightening the ends of the blanket around her shoulders and trying to swallow the lump in her throat. 'I'll go now.'
'Julia, I want to make love with you, but not like this.' His voice was strained.
Julia gave a small nod of her head. Perhaps this was for the best. She refused to beg. 'You're being sensible.'
The corners of his eyes crinkled. 'Not sensible, selfish. I want to have the time to show how it should be done properly. I can see the first faint streaks of dawn.'
'Until some other time,' she said, intending to sweep away, intending there would be no next time.
He caught her arm and pulled her close. She felt the hardness of his body and knew, if she stayed one heartbeat longer, she'd lose all her dignity and beg. He put his hand to his mouth, then his finger traced the outline of her lips.
'Until the next time.'
Chapter Eight
Sunlight streamed through Julia's window when she opened her eyes. The pounding in her head echoed the pounding on the door.
'I know you are in there, Julia, wake up!'
Claudia. Julia flopped against her pillow, wondering at the time. How late had she slept? The sun from the window had reached the bottom of her bed. Most days, she dressed before it crept over the window ledge.
She remembered lying awake for ages, going over the time with Valens, detail by detail, wondering, if she hadn't pulled back, whether they would have become lovers. But she must have drifted off.
She turned her head and saw a white rose, lying on her pillow. When had he left that there? Her fingers touched the petals, and she wondered at the meaning of the gift. Cupid gave a white rose to Harpocrates, the god of silence, to keep him from betraying Venus and her love affairs. Did it have to do with passion or was it a request that she keep silent about his life's story? She tapped the rose against her teem.
'Julia!' Claudia cried again. 'Are you coming out or am I coming in? You can tell whatever man you have hidden under your bed to leave by the window.'
Julia pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks. Claudia's joke caused her body to tingle. What would it be like to have Valens in her bedroom and to experience his kisses again?
'Since when do I have a man in my bedroom?' Julia called, struggling to keep her voice light as she hurriedly placed the rose on her dressing table.
The door crashed opened and Claudia swept in, face perfectly made up and a gown of the finest green wool clinging to her every curve.
'I'd have a man in my room if I could,' she said with an impish laugh. 'I'd start with that gladiator of yours. By Hercules, he has broad shoulders. And his legs! Imagine how safe a woman must feel in his arms.'
Julia stood up and concentrated on dressing, wishing she dared wear something as suggestive as Claudia's gown and settling instead for a tawny gown and matching shawl and stola.
'He's hardly my gladiator,' she protested, wondering how many times she would need to deny it.
The lifted eyebrow from Claudia signalled she had waited too long before making her protest. Julia tightened her belt just under her breasts. The last thing she wanted was more gossip, more scandal. The story about the brawl over Bato was starting to die down, but at least three people had questioned her about it at the baths yesterday.
'Please believe me…'
'Julia, I'm teasing you,' Claudia said, laying her hand on Julia's shoulder. 'You are such fun—you take everything seriously.'
Julia shifted under Claudia's gaze. She grabbed a pot of red wine dregs and started applying it to her cheeks with fierce short stabs of the brush.
'I told you what my father said. Even a little joke like that could send him back into the arms and plans of Sabina. He says he has told Mettalius "no". Am I to believe him? Sabina kept on and on at him at dinner. She wants him to agree to the betrothal as soon as possible. She has apparently asked the augur at Juno's temple and he believes the omens are right, but my father wishes to consult Caesar's augur. Mettalius tends to align himself with the older senators, rather than Caesar, so there is a slim chance that the augur might read the signs differently.'
Claudia leant forward and tapped a bit of the wine dregs off Julia's left cheek.
'If it is anything like the situation at my brother's house, you barely see the gladiator. I fail to understand why you are making my light-hearted remark seem like the fatal blow in a hard-fought campaign. Your father heard rumours. All of Rome has. The betting is heavy on which one will win come the games.'
' Valens rescued Bato. You were there. I have scarcely seen him after that episode.' Julia set the brush down with a trembling hand. She knew if she continued to try to apply her make-up, she'd look like one of the mimes from the theatre. 'He's nothing special.'
Claudia pursed her mouth and raised an eyebrow. Julia had the sinking thought that perhaps she had overdone the denials and Claudia had reached her own conclusion.
"Then I guess you have more pressing plans than going to watch the gladiators train with me. It is a full practice today at the Circus Maximus. The opening of the games is but a week away and Caesar wants to take a measure of his gladiators' preparedness.'
A shiver ran through Julia. To see Valens so soon after their late-night encounter. Her heart pounded in her ears. She had to go.
'If you need someone…' Julia said, toying with a pot of face cream.
'Good, it's settled then. We'll leave as soon as you have finished with your face,' Claudia said, clapping her hands and sending Bato scurrying under the bed. 'This time we will leave Bato with your porter, Clodius—to be on the safe side. Your reputation might not survive another brawl.'
'I never said I'd go.' Julia fastened a string of blue beads around her neck and slipped two gold bracelets on her right wrist, then contemplated her face. How could she apply the extra make-up to ensure she looked stunning without Claudia guessing the reason? 'There is plenty of spinning I should be getting on with, and several scrolls I wanted to read.'
'But you need to go. You must want to feast your eyes on the gladiators up close. Valens is not the only one with broad shoulders. When the games start, the gladiators will look like ants from where we have to stand. The only way you will be able to tell who they are is from their helmets.'
'Who said I was going to the games?' Julia's stomach twisted as if it were thread on a spindle. How could she sit and watch Valens fight, possibly to the death? 'There are a number of things I should be doing, like supervising the making of the new blankets.'
Claudia's mouth dropped open and her hands fell to her sides. Who was the one who disliked being teased? Julia resisted the urge to point this out.
'Julia, you can't say that spinning is more attractive than watching the games. You know some of the top gladiators, now. I'm counting on you.'
'One of the gladiators,' Julia corrected and tried to erase the image of Valens bleeding on the ground from her mind. A chill went through her.
'I still have a few days to convince you otherwise. I am determined to make a supporter of you. Say you'll come today,' Claudia looked at h
er with pleading eyes. 'It will give you something more to talk about…whenever you chance to meet him.'
Julia picked up a clean brush and started to dust her eyelids with powdered oyster shell, giving her eyes a luminous glow.
'Claudia, do you think any of the gladiators are Roman?' she asked finally, putting one last dab on.
Claudia frowned. 'They are mostly slaves. There might be one or two ex-criminals or maybe a man so down on his luck and deep in debt that he became a contract gladiator. But rumours of any patricians being gladiators are products of the playwrights' imaginations. Nobody becomes a gladiator without a good reason. Why?'
'I wondered about their backgrounds. That's all.' Julia tossed her shawl over her head and carefully arranged the folds. She made a face in her mirror before setting it down on her bedroom table.
'Gladiators are for feasting your eyes on,' Claudia said with a knowing expression on her face, 'and other parts if you are lucky. Their backgrounds are of little concern. They are symbols, not people.'
"They are people. Valens—'
'Even your gladiator, Julia,' Claudia said sternly. 'Don't you think you are fooling me with your oh-so-casual approach. This is the first time I've seen you spend that much time over your make-up since before you married Lucius.'
'I had wondered, that's all.' Julia tried for an innocent voice. She placed a hand on her friend's arm and gave it a squeeze. 'I have heard this lecture in different guises at least six times in the past week.'
'I will keep repeating it, Julia, until you start listening. Gladiators are different from the likes of you and me. If you become involved with one, and it becomes public currency, you are asking for trouble. Marcia Augustina, the Consul's daughter, decided to ignore convention and move in with a gladiator. Now he's dead and she might as well be—banished to Spain, never to contact her family again. Imagine no family, no friends, no Rome. And for what? A few tumbles in bed with a gladiator who abandoned her. No man is worth that.'
Julia turned to face her friend, pleased she had kept last night to herself. Claudia would misunderstand and would more than likely run to her father for Julia's own good. She crossed her arms and gave what she hoped was a carefree toss of her head.
'Shall we go and feast our eyes, as you say, or shall we stay here and wait for Sabina to come up with some little chore that has to be done?'
'I'm trying to look after you, Julia.' A crease appeared between Claudia's eyebrows. 'The last thing I want is for your new-found freedom to go to your head. I've seen it happen before…in Pompeü. It nearly happened to me. Widow or divorcee, you must keep to Rome's unwritten rules.'
'Let's get one thing straight, Claudia, old friend.' Julia put the top of her alabaster jar back on with a thump. 'I'm a grown woman and I can look after myself. I have no need for any protectors.'
* * *
The cold water from the jug trickled down over Valens's head and shoulders, cooling him off after the morning's practice. He allowed the droplets of water to enter his mouth, enjoying the sweet tang of the water.
'It was a hard session out there,' Tigris remarked after he downed his jug of water, the sweat pouring from every inch of his body. "The Circus is a much larger place than I had thought. It would be easy to get overawed by the crowd.'
'Yes, Caesar has considered that,' Valens replied laconically.
The exercise had proved the outlet for his frustrations about Julia. His anger at her former husband had driven him to press harder and look for more openings. Perhaps he had been wrong to worry that feelings for someone would take away his appetite for the sport and reduce his focus.
If anything, this morning, it was all the keener. Standing here in the Circus with its rows of wooden seats, he was more determined than ever to win the wooden sword.
'I thought you were about to kill Leoparda.'
'He's a good fighter. In a few bouts' time, I have no doubt he will have earned the right to sit among the first halls and enjoy the privileges it brings.'
'If the gods favour him…'
'You're getting philosophical, Tigris,' Valens said, ducking the jug into the water butt for the third time.
'Missing Maia and the children, I suppose.' Tigris refilled the jug, took a long drink, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 'I find myself thinking about them at odd times and wondering if Crispus has learnt his letters or the peas are coming up in the garden.'
'Spoken like a true farmer, Tigris.'
'I was a farmer once, before the war.' He gestured around the empty arena. 'Before all this.'
Valens rubbed the back of his neck. Tigris must be unnerved for him to mention his previous life. For four years, he had avoided finding out what Tigris did before, and now he found himself wondering why fate had chosen them. Memory was a dangerous thing.
'There is a sizeable crowd of spectators today,' he said, changing the subject. 'Caesar is whetting the appetite of the mob, trying to ensure his games are a success.'
'Aye, that there is and your girlfriend is among them.'
Valens froze.
'What girlfriend would that be, Tigris?' Valens asked with a hearty laugh. He knew without looking whom Tigris meant, but it bothered him that Tigris had guessed so easily.
'The woman you and Aquilia fought over. He is still is raging about it, vows he will harm you and the woman.'
'She is the daughter of one of Caesar's prominent clients,' Valens retorted, surprised at his growing alarm for Julia's safety. 'He would never dare try to harm someone like that.'
'Since when has a little thing like that stopped Aquilia?'
'What are you talking about, Tigris?' Valens felt the bile rise in his throat. He hoped it was another one of Tigris's jests, a wind-up to see how Valens would react.
'Haven't you heard? Haven't you been listening to the gladiators' mess hall?'
'I have little time for myths and legends, Tigris.' The sweat on the back of his neck turned ice-cold.
'You should pay more attention.' Tigris's eyes were shadowed. Valens noticed how old and careworn his friend looked. 'Aquilia has a reputation for being ruthless, for going all out to win. He seems to know instinctively where an opponent's weak spot is. He has the uncanny ability to bewitch them, turn them to stone, so they say. Hylas barely blocked any of his blows when they fought in Capua two months ago, he stood just there with his shield down and you know his reputation for ferocity.'
'Old wives' tales. Hylas was unlucky that day and let his guard slip. His mind was on other things. Two nights before, armed men attacked Hylas's wife in her house and left her for dead.' Valens looked at his nails. 'I believe I have the measure of the man.'
'It is the other thing that bothered me.'
'In this business the arena must be everything. A gladiator must be able to focus solely on his work.' Valens wondered who he was trying to convince—Tigris or himself.
'You have no idea how much I worry about Maia and the children. Will I behave like Hylas in the arena when faced with Aquilia? And it wasn't just Hylas, you know, there were seven others who had it happen to them in the exact same manner'
'Their women were attacked before the fight?' Valens looked sharply at Tigris as a stab of concern sliced through his body. He had to protect Julia. He'd sooner cut off a finger than have one hair on her head harmed.
'No, became like stone after Aquilia fixed them with his eye. He bewitched them. They say he has magic powers obtained from the demon goddess he worships. Tell me when a rentarius last made the first hall.'
'Tales best told around the brazier, Tigris, along with all the other myths.' Valens forced a laugh from his throat.
'But this time I believe them. Maia and the children need me.'
Valens clapped his friend on the back.
'You need not worry. Have you ever lost in the arena?' 'I can't help it. You wait until one other person becomes the centre of your being.'
'Aquilia will meet me,' Valens said forcefully. 'Not you.'
/> 'It could be any of the first-hall Thracians he fights…'
'Do you think with the betting that is going on, Caesar will miss a chance like this?' Valens shook his head and laid a hand on Tigris's shoulder. 'No, my friend, stop staying awake during nights, Maia and your children will be safe. One day, Fortunata willing, all you will have to worry about is when the barley is ripe.'
'I pray to the gods you are right, but he has vowed vengeance on you and your girlfriend for the insult you paid him.'
'Aquilia should grow up.'
A liquid laugh floated on the breeze towards him. Valens turned to see Julia merrily chatting to her friend, underneath the shade of a green silk parasol. He started to go towards her, then checked his footsteps. He refused to put Julia into danger. He had to protect her in the only way possible. He had to make Aquilia think she no longer mattered. It was going to cut like a knife to do it, but he had to—for Julia's safety.
'You were wrong, Claudia,' Julia said, shading her eyes with her hand and peering out on to the sand-strewn ring. 'We arrived in time. They were taking a break. The gladiators are about to start practising again.'
'Thank the Good Goddess. We appear to have missed the third hall and tiros in their practice bouts. The best gladiators are yet to come. These are the ones I am interested in. Pay attention to their feet and legs. You can learn a lot about how the bout will go from the way a gladiator moves his feet.'
Julia watched the gladiators as they marched on to the sand and gave a salute before dividing into pairs. She scanned the groups until she caught sight of Valens's broad shoulders. Her stomach gave a nervous jump.
He was dressed in his full regalia: armour, grieve and helmet It was only from the set of his shoulders and the way he carried his sword that she recognised him.
He closed the visor of his battered helmet with a distinctive movement and crouched down.
'Are they going to fight with real swords?' she asked Claudia. 'I thought they practised with wooden swords.'
'The swords are blunt, but they are real,' Claudia answered in a distracted voice. 'It should give the public a good idea of who is in form for the games. Did you see the blow that Tigris just gave that second hall? It was superb.'
The Gladiator's Honor Page 11