His hair curled slightly from the damp of the bath, and he had dressed carefully in a longer pure white tunic, one that only revealed his calves. If she had been meeting him for the first time, she would have sworn he was a patrician, rather than a gladiator. She found it impossible to do anything but stare at him. The memories of what they had just experienced flooding her body.
'Ah, Julia, at long last you arrive.' Sabina's sneer cut across Julia's confusion. 'It is so pleasing that you have taken time out of your busy schedule and finally decided to make an appearance. I see the pile of wool is sitting untouched in the atrium where you left it yesterday.'
'I had a slight headache and was resting,' Julia answered calmly. 'It wasn't until I heard the gong that I realised the time.'
The truth, but not the whole truth. Julia trained her gaze on the ornate floral patter of the middle couch.
'Sabina, Julia is but a little late,' her father said. "The other guests have just finished having their feet washed. And it is a pleasure to see her looking so pretty.'
'Try to keep better track of the time,' Sabina said, pursing her lips as if she had swallowed a glass of vinegar. 'You shall have to have the right couch with the gladiator next to you. I have already assigned your usual place to Livia.'
Julia vaguely listened while Sabina told the two other couples where they would be reclining. Her heart had leapt at the thought of being so near Valens so soon, but then had plummeted to the hem of her gown. She would have to be very careful not to betray her interest in him. This was the first time she had encountered him under the watchful gaze of her father. She had to remain calm.
At Sabina's signal, Julia went to the couch on the far right-hand side and started to arrange herself crosswise. Within a breath, Valens was reclining beside her. She ruthlessly suppressed a tingle as she felt his breath on her cheek.
'I thought you dined alone,' she said, forcing her lungs to breathe normally.
Valens reached over and put a cushion between her and his body. 'Are you disappointed that I am here?'
'Not disappointed, surprised. You gave no indication when…when…' Julia's voice trailed off.
'Your father came into the bathing suite just after you left and insisted I join him for dinner. It seemed churlish to refuse an invitation from the man who has provided me with all this hospitality.'
Julia's breath caught in her throat and she started to cough as she realised how fortunate she had been to escape from the bath suite undetected. Had she lingered a little while longer, her father might have burst in on them. Or he might have been waiting patiently outside when Valens had unbolted the door. She brought her napkin up to her face to hide the worst of the blush.
'I had not realised…'
'We understand each other,' Valens said smoothly. He took a napkin from the waiter, spread it in front of him and then washed his hands in the ewer of perfumed water that another waiter proffered. 'Your father is an honourable man and I can respect that honour. So it was with great pride I accepted his invitation to dine.'
Julia risked a glance at his profile, but she found it impossible to read. Did he mean that he felt he had somehow dishonoured her father's hospitality? Or was she trying to read too much into his words? She concentrated on arranging her napkin and ignoring the stabs of guilt and doubt. She risked a glance at her father, but he was speaking to one of the guests. Julia glanced down at her hands. The time was wrong for confessing.
'I see Senator Mettalius is not here,' Julia said, changing the subject.
'Your father said when he invited me that the senator had pleaded another engagement and there was a place spare,' Valens answered in an undertone. 'He wants to keep the guests to the number recommended by his soothsayer.'
"That could explain Sabina's bad mood.' Julia whispered back. 'A senator at the table would have given her superiority over Livia Gladiticus, the woman on my father's left and Sabina's great social rival. Sabina used to take great pride inviting Lucius, my former husband. Every second conversation was about how wonderfully he was doing in the Senate. Sabina's overriding ambition is to be greater than Livia. See how many times she has pointed out the new water clock and its ability to spit out pebbles on the hour.'
'And was your ex-husband a rising star? Another Pompey?'
'No, but Sabina ignored that. She only saw the broad purple stripe of his senatorial toga and smelt its stench from the Tynan shellfish dye.'
'There is more to a man's character than the stripe of his toga and the odour of his clothes,' Valens said decisively.
'I know…' Julia sighed '…but try telling Sabina or my father that.'
As the first course of small pastries stuffed with dates and meat was passed around, she tried to concentrate on the ebb and flow of the conversation and ignore the movement of Valens's body, mere inches from her own. There had to be a way of making her father see beyond Valens's status to the good and honourable man she had begun to discover.
'What are dear Julia's prospects for remarriage?' Livia's voice boomed out as the servants wiped the marble table in preparation for the next course. 'I have been waiting for weeks for this fabulous announcement you have been promising, Sabina.'
'Go on, Sabina, you may tell our friends,' Julius Antonius said in a measured voice as he finished washing his hands in the perfumed water. 'You may tell our friends what we have decided to do…about Julia's marriage.'
Julia's hand trembled as she lifted her cup of honey-sweetened wine. She found it difficult to credit that her father would contract a marriage without consulting her. He had promised. All her happiness at this afternoon seemed to taste like ashes in her mouth. She wanted to weep. It took all of her willpower not to throw the napkin down and storm out of the room. She felt the gentle pressure of Valens's hand on her elbow, steadying her. It was difficult to believe this was happening to her. Her father had promised to wait.
'You know what men are like, Livia.' Sabina paused and theatrically rolled her eyes to the ceiling. 'It all depends on the augur and the omens apparently. Julius Antonius wants to consult the very best as we have no desire to have a repeat of the last time. You all know what a disaster for the family that was.'
Sabina's eyes narrowed as she stared directly at Julia. She was left in no doubt whom Sabina blamed for the breakdown of the marriage.
'When are you consulting the augur?'
Julia's breath caught in her throat. She stared at the centrepiece of fruit.
'Tomorrow morning at three hours,' Sabina replied, patting her hair and pointedly turning away from Julia. 'Julius Antonius arranged it all without asking me. This augur, Apius, at the Temple of Venus, comes highly recommended by no less than Caesar himself.'
Julia felt her winecup begin to slip out of her grasp. The sound of Sabina's words echoed in her brain—tomorrow.
Valens eased her fingers away from the cup and placed it on the table. She gave him a grateful glance and he inclined his head very slightly. He had spoken of protecting her, but he could not protect her from this fate. Did he even want to? And what happened when she was married? She knew her sense of duty would never let her betray her husband.
The rest of the meal and the evening's entertainment passed in a blur. Each time she risked a glance at Valens, his face seemed to grow more remote and stone-like until it looked like it was chiselled out of granite. The warmth in his eyes seemed to have disappeared entirely by the third course, leaving only chips of black glass.
Julia picked at her cakes soaked in sweet wine, unable to concentrate as her thoughts kept circling back to one fact. Tomorrow her fate would be decided and she faced a future without Valens. She had to confront the stark truth. Their encounter had only been a brief interlude in her life.
Chapter Ten
Valens slammed the door to his bedroom shut with a satisfyingly loud bang. The dinner had been a mistake. He should have ignored the blandishments of Julius Antonius and had supper in his room as he had done every day since he had arrive
d in this household. But the desire to see Julia again had been too strong.
Reclining on the couch, he had been reminded that a Roman dinner party was very different from the parties he attended as a gladiator. He also remembered how his mother had lived for dinner parties, how she enjoyed supervising the cooks and fussing over the food. She had enjoyed the speeches after the food, the entertainment.
Even after five years, he heard echoes of her laughter in some of the stories. One or two jokes were ones he knew she would have smiled at. He also knew how she wilted whenever his father forbade the parties. She had been a pale imitation of herself on their estates in northern Italy, only coming to life when they returned to Rome.
From her flushed cheeks, and bright eyes, Valens knew Julia had enjoyed the dinner. What would it mean to her if such things were forbidden? If former friends walked on the other side of the road rather than greet her, as he knew must happen if their liaison became public currency?
The hardest part of the whole evening was listening to Julius Antonius calmly announce that his daughter's future was to be decided in the morning. In that bald statement, Valens knew he did not want to see her become a bride to another man. It had taken all of his willpower to refrain from asking for more time. All he wanted was the chance to compete for her, but that could not happen until he had won the radius.
Or could it? There was a way he had not tried. He had refused to try.
Valens strode over to his iron-bound trunk and searched through his belongings for the cloak he wore to the opening ceremony. His fingers closed around the brooch pinned to the right-hand shoulder, the floodgates of his memory opening.
He should act now. Confront his father. Attempt to regain his birthright that way, an insistent voice whispered in his brain. It would be so easy. He stood to gain much. Once his father saw him in the flesh, he'd throw his arms wide and welcome him back, ignoring the past. Valens allowed the brooch to slip from his grip as he remembered his father's sneering remarks about gladiators. If he had been unwilling to ransom his son from a pirate's hold, why would he be willing to help now when his son had risen to the top of his disreputable profession?
To acknowledge him as his son, his father would have to admit that his own flesh and blood, a member of one of Rome's oldest families, was an infamis. The one consistent refrain of his childhood was that members of his family died before they disgraced the family name.
Valens bowed his head, hating what he had become, yet he knew he was a far more honourable man than the junior tribune who had left Rome on the troopship bound for North Africa, despite whatever Roman society might think.
His hand closed around the brooch. It was tempting, but he had to stick to his original plan. When he confronted his father, he wanted not to be in a position of having to beg. His father had left him to die once. Why should his father help him now?
Valens bent down and pushed the brooch and cloak to the bottom of his trunk. It had been a lapse to even think about such things. He had come this far without any help. He had found a way to solve his problems on his own and he would not seek help now.
He would try to buy time for Julia, but he could not look beyond the games. He would have to trust the gods, something he had found impossible to do. But what if they had a gentle nudge?
Julia entered the dank Temple of Venus the next morning with a heavy heart. She knew Juno and Minerva had ignored her prayers. The white rose on her dressing table had wilted. The smell of incense and roasted lamb assaulted her nose. Her father, dressed in his best white toga with its narrow purple stripe proclaiming his equestrian status, led the way towards the main altar. Sabina, the very picture of a pious Roman matron, followed closely on his heels. Behind her, Julia could hear the soft bleating of the newborn lamb her father intended to offer to the temple as a sacrifice.
Despite the number of layers she wore, Julia shivered as they waited for the augur to arrive. When a door beside the high altar finally opened and a bald-headed man dressed in priestly robes appeared, the only thing Julia wanted was for the ordeal to be over.
"The questions you wish the goddess to answer, please,' the augur intoned in a singsong voice after the initial ceremony finished.
Julia's father bowed low and withdrew a scroll from a fold in his toga. 'These are the questions concerning the fate of my daughter.'
The priest appeared to go into a trance as one of his apprentices waved heavy incense over the scroll. Another banged a drum slowly, the beats filling the cold temple.
Julia pressed her palms together and offered prayer after prayer to Venus. She had to understand about affairs of the heart.
'As to the first question,' the priest said, opening his eyes, 'the omens are poor for an alliance with Mettalius Scipio. The goddess has permitted me to see that his star is on the wane. Your family will suffer should such an alliance be pursued.'
Julia bowed her head against her hands. Venus had answered.
'But, but—' Sabina exclaimed. 'He's a senator.'
'Who is this woman who doubts the goddess's word?' The priest's face grew thunderous and Sabina shrank back.
The priest paused, and waited for the temple to grow silent Julia could hear the faint noise of the street. He gave a nod and the drumbeat started again as the priest did a series of complicated motions with his hands over the scroll. He gestured to one of the acolytes who brought a shiny bowl filled with a red liquid. The priest nodded. And the drumming ceased.
'As to your questions about where to seek a match, the omens assure me that you are best seeking an alliance with someone who has been restored from death.'
The temple went silent. Julia felt a curl of cold trace down her backbone. How could anybody be restored from death? The priest's prophecy made no sense. Who had her father picked out?
'Restored from death! Are you positive that is what the omens say?' Julius Antonius questioned. 'Don't you mean restored to health?'
The priest stared at him with cold eyes.
'If you would like me to re-examine the entrails, it will be another fifty denarü.'
'I thought when we discussed my intentions…' Julius Antonius blustered.
The priest pressed his fingertips together, forming a temple. His eyes flashed cold fire.
'When we talked, I agreed to read the entrails once for you. I told you then that the goddess moves in mysterious ways. Do you question my word as priest? The price of knowledge is not cheap.'
'I told you this augur is a charlatan!' Sabina exclaimed. 'How can anybody be restored from death? Julius Antonius, I told you that we ought to—'
'I will have silence in my temple,' the priest roared. 'You were warned to keep silent. Escort that woman out!'
Julia watched as Sabina was forced to leave the temple. Every limb felt tired. But the one thing she knew was that she would not have to marry Mettalius. She'd worry about the other part of the prediction later.
'Shall we go, Father?' Julia asked as the priest finished the ceremony and departed.
'What?' Julius Antonius shook his head. 'Julia, the priest's second prediction was entirely unexpected. It appears the goddess must speak to him after all.'
'I am not sure I understand you, Father.'
'Dealing with augurs can be a tricky business, Julia. I had rather thought he would say something different.' His lips gave a queer half-smile. 'I dare say your stepmother thought it would be something else again.'
Julia tilted her head and look at her father, trying to assess what he was saying. 'Surely the priest speaks for Venus, Father.'
'Sometimes, daughter,' Julius Antonius said, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze, 'sometimes, but don't fret, Julia, I shall find the right match for you. One that honours the family and brings you happiness. I need to ponder the phrase— restored from death. The goddess moves in mysterious ways.'
'Very mysterious ways,' Julia agreed and listened to her father's suppressed chuckle.
'Shall we go rescue Sabina Claudia befor
e she starts shrieking the temple down?'
Her father took her arm and Julia felt like they were father and daughter again, as they had been before her mother died. He was very different from the austere father of only a few weeks ago.
The blow from Tigris's sword hit Valens squarely on his right shoulder, causing him to wince and nearly drop his shield. Valens wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and eased the shield back up his left arm. With the blow his shoulder had just received, the shield felt twice as heavy as it normally did. Valens crouched down, balancing on the balls of his feet, watching for the next feint by Tigris.
'You need to pay attention,' Tigris said with a wide smile as Valens barely blocked the next blow. 'You normally see that particular trick coming before my sword is halfway to your shoulder.'
'Shall we begin again?' Valens said, ignoring the comment as he rotated his arm.
'That's the third parry you've missed this morning, Valens.' Strabo's voice rang out across the Julian compound. 'What is the matter with you, boy?'
'A slight shoulder pull.'
'Then see the doctor immediately after this session and concentrate. A tiny could do better than that,' Strabo said, coming over to Valens to test his shoulder. 'The opening day is less than a week away and I want you fit and well. All mental faculties concentrated on the games.'
Valens gave a brief nod and wiped the sweat from his brow. Concentration. It was all very well to say it, but he discovered it was hard to find. He knelt down and rubbed the sand between his hands, feeling the grit stick to his palms. A symbolic act to show he was now part of the arena, his other life had no meaning. He balanced on his toes and gave a nod to Tigris.
The Gladiator's Honor Page 14