The Gladiator's Honor

by Michelle Styles

  'Next time tell the truth.'

  He released the net and Aquilia tumbled backwards, fuming. Valens hit his shield with his sword.

  'Let's see if you are any better at fighting than you are at weaving stories to frighten the gullible. Let's see who is better—the tribune or the pirate.'

  Julia gasped as she watched Valens's blade flash in the late afternoon sun. The arena was fall to groaning now and with each slash of the sword or block of the shield, the crowd began chanting another slogan.

  First Valens pressed forward, trying to strike. Aquilia parried the stab with his trident, blocking and seeking an opening for his net. Twice she had thought Aquilia would trap him, beat him to the ground, but each time Valens managed to roll away, or sidestep at the last possible opportunity.

  She pressed her hands together and wondered how long Valens could keep up the nimble footwork.

  The heat, his armour and the head wound from last night all had to be telling, slowing him down. Julia tried to push the thought away and concentrate on how brilliantly Valens sidestepped a trident thrust and answered it with a downward : cut of his own.

  The two combatants backed off and then rushed towards each other again.

  She gave a small cheer as Aquilia stumbled, then Valens followed up with a sword thrust. Aquilia raised his trident and pushed away the sword.

  The boisterous crowd grew silent as the intensity of the battle in the arena increased.

  Julia tried to hide her eyes, to look away, but it was impossible. Every fibre of her being was intent on watching Valens battle for his life.

  The net hissed, this time striking Valens on the shoulder, coiling around his midriff. Aquilia started to reel him in. Valens used his shield and knocked Aquilia sideways.

  'Who's winning?' Julia whispered to Strabo. She had to know! Her nails made half-moon shapes on the palms of her hands as she waited for his answer.

  'Hard to say,' Strabo answered. 'They have both scored points on the other But it is a good match.'

  A good match? It was a life-and-death struggle! The man she loved was out there fighting for his life, for the amusement of others. Julia felt sickened to the core.

  The fight continued with all its awfulness. With each blow, she was certain Valens would receive a mortal injury. She tore the top of her thumbnail off with her teeth and then proceeded to chew each of her other fingernails to the quick before going back to her thumb.

  'Are there rules?' she asked.

  Strabo laughed. 'The rule is there are no rules. We wait until one of them makes a mistake. The power and the grace of two gladiators in their prime. It makes me proud to be a Roman.'

  Sweat poured down Valens's face as he began to feel the full force of the injury he had received last night. Aquilia's last parry had hit him squarely in the back of his helmet, sending green lights before his eyes. He fought to keep his footing in the sand that was slippery from the earlier bouts.

  Valens staggered, and tried to regain his balance. He heard the siren call of the ground asking him to fall down, to give up and embrace the darkness.

  He stumbled to his knees, felt the net strike his back and instinctively rolled away. He heard Aquilia's triumphant laugh against the blackness in his head and he struggled to right himself. The crowd began to shout 'He's had it' and knew they were talking about him.

  'That's right,' Aquilia sneered. 'Give in to me—you Romans always do. Nobody cares whether you live or die. Tomorrow I will be their hero.'

  Valens wiped his hand across his mouth and tried to hang on, too exhausted to keep trying. Aquilia's words started weaving a spell around his thoughts, tying them up, making him powerless to resist.

  The chanting grew louder, filling his body. Aquilia's trident was poised to strike. Valens wondered if he had the strength to roll to his side, to avoid the prongs.

  A woman's scream tore through his consciousness with one word—no. Valens lifted his head and saw Julia, her face pale as snow, her green gown vivid against the blue of Strabo's box. She was here! The inner reaches of his soul uncurled.

  Strength flooded through him, a crazed strength from knowing that Julia was there. She had made her choice and had made it known in the most public way possible. She had chosen him. He had someone to fight for.

  Valens used his shield and forced the trident back. The impact shuddered through his arm. He reached and grabbed the trident, sending it spinning from Aquila's grasp.

  The crowd stopped chanting, as it held a collective breath. Aquilia stood, stunned, a bemused expression on his face. Then he snarled and flung the net, aiming over Valens's head.

  With one motion, Valens brought his shield up and around, catching the net on the edge of the shield. He pulled it out of Aquilia's arm and with a great tearing noise, the net ripped in half.

  Aquilia stood, deprived of his weapons, a blank dazed look on his face.

  'Now who has had it?' Valens asked, grimly advancing with his sword outstretched. He had hated the thought of attacking a defenceless man, but Aquilia had not made any sign of surrender.

  He took another step forward.

  Aquilia fell to his knees, grovelled in the dirt and made a gesture of supplication, putting one finger of his left hand into the air. The crowd start to chant again—this time screaming Aquilia had had it, Aquilia was done for.

  Valens nodded, lowered his sword then took a step backwards. The match had finished. Aquilia had appealed to Caesar for mercy.

  Turning to face Caesar and wait for the signal to tell him what to do, Valens tensed, and willed himself not to think about the job he'd have to do if Caesar decided not to spare Aquilia.

  Caesar paused, hand held out, thumb held horizontal to the ground. Politician to the core, he was waiting to hear the crowd's verdict, Valens thought, struggling to regain his breath.

  Time stood still. The crowd became silent. One or two white handkerchiefs fluttered in the breeze. Caesar made no move as a trickle of sweat coursed down Valens's face. His own being concentrated on Caesar's hand.

  'A dagger! Valens, watch out! Behind you!' Julia's cry echoed in his ears. 'He has a dagger!'

  Valens reacted without thinking and spun with his sword held out. In slow motion, he watched Aquilia hurl his body towards him, a dagger in his right hand.

  Aquilia's charge led him straight on to Valens's sword. Valens's arm shuddered from the impact and he dropped the sword as Aquilia fell backwards. The crowd roared its approval.

  Julia collapsed back down on her seat, hardly listening to the crowd. Every muscle trembled. Only her eyes shifted, following every move Valens made as he stood before Caesar's box.

  She saw Aquilia's body being dragged away by the guards dressed as guardians of the underworld and shuddered. It could have so easily been Valens lying there.

  She had no idea whether she could face seeing Valens in the arena again, and yet she knew, should he fight, that she would be there, willing him on.

  She passed a hand over her brow and pushed the thought away. The only thing that mattered was that Valens lived and breathed. He was alive! And she would hold him in her arms again.

  Caesar held up his hands, signalling for silence.

  'Gladiator, take off your helmet, in order that I might look on your face and know your name.'

  Valens slowly lifted the steel helmet. He held up his head and met Caesar's clear gaze. His father stood at Caesar's elbow, his visage sterner and older than Valens remembered, but there was a queer half-smile on his lips. Valens drew a deep breath and knew what he must do.

  'I am Gaius Gracchus, the son of Marcus Graccus Quintus, who is sometimes known as Valens the Thracian.' His voice rang out through the arena, echoed and bounced off the seats.

  A few catcalls of shame echoed around the arena.

  'How came you to be a gladiator, Gaius Gracchus? I remember you as a junior tribune in Zama.' Caesar's question silenced the crowd.

  'Pirates captured me and sold me to a gladiatorial schoo
l when my ransom failed to arrive.'

  'A ransom should always be paid.' Caesar turned towards Senator Gracchus as if expecting an explanation.

  'My father mistakenly believed I had died, Caesar. And I wished to live. There is no honour in dying in a pirate's hold.'

  'Agreed, and have you avenged your capture?'

  'The pirate who captured me died a coward's death.' Valens nodded towards Aquilia's body.

  The crowd roared its approval. The sounds of thousands of pairs of feet stamping shook the arena. Caesar held up his hands again and waited for silence. This man will go far, Valens thought, he knows the people.

  'Gaius Gracchus, I cannot give you your rightful place back in society. Our laws are such that no man who has fought in the arena may become a senator. I regret I cannot change them, even for a captive.'

  'I understand, Caesar.' Valens bowed his head. There would be no miracle happy ending for him.

  'However,'Caesar continued, 'after that performance you just gave, that performance that gave honour to my father and his death—ask a boon and if I can grant it I shall. An estate? Jewels? What you would like? What is it that is in my power to give?'

  Valens looked at Caesar and then turned to look where Julia stood, hands clasped together, a pleading expression on her face. He knew what she wanted him to ask for, what Caesar expected him to ask for. But the wooden sword was no guarantee of Julia's hand. Valens knew with every beat of his heart that Julia mattered above everything else in his life.

  'I would ask for the hand of Julia Antonia in marriage. There is no one or nothing that I want more on this earth than to have her by my side.'

  Caesar frowned, and the crowd sat in stunned silence. Valens felt the prickle of sweat cascade down his back as he waited. The tension was worse than waiting for his bout with Aquilia to begin.

  'I don't know if I can grant that,' Caesar said at last, his voice sounding less sure than previously.

  'Why not? You are her father's patron. Surely you can ask? My suit will hold more weight if you are backing it.'

  Caesar motioned to Julius Antonius, who stood up and stepped forward. They had a brief whispered conversation. Valens could see Antonius pointing to where Julia stood and shaking his head.

  'I cannot give you the answer you want, Gaius Gracchus Valens,' Antonius shouted. 'My daughter is a free woman and makes up her own mind. You will have to ask her!'

  'And I say yes! Yes, I will give my hand to you,' Julia shouted across the arena, hoping her voice could be heard above the din of the crowd.

  She knew it had to have been heard as Valens's face broke into a wreath of smiles. Her heart turned over when she thought of what he could have asked for. But he had asked for her. Suddenly the only thing that mattered was for her to feel his arms about her and know he was safe.

  She started forward and tried to climb over the barrier. She knew a good deal of her leg would be exposed to Rome, that her behaviour would be talked about for weeks or months to come, but it did not matter. Valens was the only person who mattered.

  Two security guards ran over to her and helped her into the arena. When her feet touched the ground she sprinted towards Valens's side. Her sandals slipped on the sand and she had to slow down. It seemed to take an age to reach his side, but suddenly she was there, feeling the warmth of his breath against her cheek.

  Her hands touched the cold steel of his armour before encountering the yielding softness of his skin.

  'I say yes,' she said again, looking into his eyes and knowing that this was where she belonged. 'Yes, I will be your wife.'

  Valens touched his lips to hers. And she was oblivious to the stares and cheers.

  'It appears, Gaius Gracchus, you do not need any help from me on that score.' Caesar's voice cut through the noise. 'The lady has made her own choice. But what I would say is that a free woman needs a free man.'

  Caesar made a signal with a hand and two servants came out, carrying a wooden sword.

  'I give you your freedom, Gaius Gracchus Valens. Long may you enjoy it with your wife!'

  Julia watched as Valens grasped the sword with one hand and held it aloft. The roar of the crowd echoed in her ears.

  'I love you, Gaius Gracchus Valens,' she whispered.

  Valens bowed his head and whispered back, 'I love you with all my heart and all my soul.'

  Epilogue

  One year later on an estate outside Pompeü

  The warm breeze brought a scent of thyme and roses, lifting Julia's hair and tickling her nose. She leant back against the stone wall and gave a happy sigh. With only the birdsong and the faint splash of the stream at the bottom of the terrace, she enjoyed the perfect peace of the estate. Rome with its incessant busy streets seemed like a half-forgotten dream. She lifted her eyes to the green-covered slopes of Mount Vesuvius and thought how timeless this place was.

  She leant over and tucked the blanket around Marcus where he lay peacefully sleeping in his basket. Already three weeks old, and his little legs were constantly kicking the covers off. She had never realised how much love and joy a child could bring.

  Bato lifted his head from where he lay resting at her feet and gave a happy bark at the sound of approaching footsteps.

  'I hoped I might find you and Marcus here. Some scrolls have arrived from Rome.' Valens came towards her and Julia patted her hand on the bench. After giving Bato a pat on the head, he sat down and stretched an arm about Julia. She lay her head against Valens's chest, savouring the steady thump of his heart as Bato settled himself at their feet, and put his nose under his paws. 'I thought to open them with you.'

  He handed her a scroll with Claudia's familiar scrawl on the front. Julia rapidly scanned it.

  'Claudia plans to be here for the games in September and wants the latest gossip as to gladiatorial form. She also writes that Apius, the augur who foretold our marriage, has been rewarded yet again by Caesar. His reputation for accuracy grows and grows. Claudia is thinking of consulting him about whom she should marry.'

  'That old fraud. It is a wonder he has not been found out by now.'

  'What do you mean, Valens?'

  Valens lifted her chin and Julia was suddenly staring into his dark eyes. "There are some things too important to be left to Fate, my darling wife. I knew I could not offer for you then, but if I did well in the games, I had a chance. Luckily the heaviness of the purse had some influence on Apius and he gave the prediction I wanted.'

  'Did you know how worried I was?' The corners of her mouth twitched. 'Do you know how much money he has made on the strength of that one prediction?'

  Valens stroked her hair. 'I did what I had to do.'

  Julia fell silent. She noticed he seemed quieter, more subdued as he read his scroll. 'Not bad news, I hope.'

  'It's from my father. He was excited to learn of Marcus's birth and looks forward to meeting him next month. He plans on making him his heir, you know.'

  Julia touched Valens's cheek. Even though Gracchus and Valens had patched up their differences, she knew the problem of who should inherit the senator's great wealth was unresolved. 'Do you want this?'

  'It seems the most sensible solution. I suggested it to my father when I first learnt you were pregnant. And now my father agrees.'

  'And what of Lucius? What does he think?' A shiver passed over Julia. The last thing she wanted was more trouble from that man. Valens knew her feelings on this. It had been the cause of their one quarrel. In the end, she had agreed that Senator Gracchus had the right to leave his money to whomever he wanted.

  Valens's eyes turned grave and he put both his hands on Julia's shoulders. 'My father writes that the court case is over. Mettalius has been banished for his part. But the morning the judgement was due to be read out, Lucius's body was discovered in his prison cell, hemlock by his side.'

  'Oh.' Julia stared at him, suddenly lost for words. 'We will never know then what truly happened.'

  'He left a confession. It details everything—ho
w he first conceived of the plan when he heard of my quarrels with my father, how he used Mettalius's gaming debts to pressure him into doing his bidding and how he arranged for the kidnapping by the pirates. My ransom note went to him first and he altered the code. Then, thinking the pirates would kill me, he murdered my mother by poison. He took his life rather than face the punishment.'

  'Hades is too good for him.'

  'His actions may have caused immense trouble, but in the end everything worked out because I found you.' Valens touched his lips to Julia's forehead, and Julia felt the tenderness of the kiss pervade her very being. Valens was correct—the past did not matter. It was their present and future together that was important. 'I have no desire for anything but being here on this estate with you and our son, and enjoying the rest of our days together. I could not wish for anything more.'

  'I love you, my honourable gladiator.'

  Valens bent his head and Julia tasted the sweetness of his kiss. Except for the gurgling of the stream, the contented snores of Bato, and the gentle breathing of their child, the garden fell silent for a long time.

  Historical Note

  Gladiators were ingrained in the Roman psyche. From the earliest Etruscan times, gladiators would perform at funeral rites to honour the shades of the dead warriors. However, it was not until 105 BC that gladiator games were given officially by two Roman consuls. By the time Julius Caesar became Aedile in 65 BC, the sport had grown into a professional spectacle.

  Caesar was the first to equip his gladiators with silvered armour and to try to harness the spectacle for his own political ends. The lavish games he gave in honour of his father would serve as a platform for his later political ambitions.

  Prior to the first permanent Roman arena being built around 29 BC, gladiatorial games were either held in the Circus Maximus or in a hastily built wooden structure on the Forum. Given the importance of these particular games, and the absence of historical record as to precisely where they were held, I decided Julius Caesar would have used the largest venue possible, thus I chose the Circus Maximus.