GladiatorsAtonement

by Amy Ruttan

  He began to rock back and forth, reveling in the feeling that it was creating in him. The tension that was coursing through him began to build inside him and willed him to move faster, ride harder. He wanted Helena to heal him, and chase away the nightmares of his past. Rocking faster, he could feel her pussy clenching around his cock. His fingers were in her curls, bringing her pleasure as he rode her.

  Their eyes locked in the moment they both gained their bliss. She shuddered against him, crying out. He spilled his seed inside her, then pulled her tight against his chest, holding her like he was afraid of losing her.

  “I love you, anam cara,” he whispered.

  “I love you too, Eratos. Please, do not leave me.” Helena began to cry then, and he held her close. He wished he could assure that he would not, but at this moment he did not know if he could be successful in atonement.

  And he did not want to break his promise should he fail.

  Chapter Seven

  “Father?” Her voice echoed through the vast marble hallways of her family home. She headed to the main atrium, where her father held his dinners, even entertained His Imperial Majesty. The hallway was dark on either side of her. The statues of the gods were shrouded in darkness. Their white marble eyes stared at her, making her feel uneasy. “This is not right.” Yet she was still propelled further.

  “Father?” she called out again.

  “Helena?” Her father’s call echoed through the marble halls. Helena swallowed a sob caught in her throat.

  “Father.” She started running down the hallway, which lengthened and lengthened as she ran.

  “Helena?” Her father kept calling, his voice becoming farther and farther away.

  “I am coming, Father,” she cried out. Fighting to run farther, she finally made it to the atrium. Although the night surrounded her, the atrium was awash in brilliant sunlight. The room glowed white and it made her eyes hurt as she stepped in the room.

  As her eyes adjusted to the sunlight she caught sight of her father, standing with his back to her in the middle of the room.

  “Father,” she whispered. It had been so long since she had seen him. It physically hurt to be separated from him. “It is me, Helena. I am here.”

  Yet her father did not turn around. A sensation of dread traveled down her spine.

  “Father?”

  He turned around slowly, his arms open wide and Helena fought the urge to scream as he faced her and blood spurted from the open wounds on his wrists. He collapsed against the marble floor and Helena rushed to his side, collecting him against her breast, crying. She could feel the blood seeping into her toga.

  “Father, no.” When she looked down this time though it was not her father she held to her breast, but Eratos. His lifeless blue eyes stared up at the white ceiling. His skin was gray and waxy with the kiss of death.

  “Eratos.”

  Then Thelonius laughed, and when she turned around she saw Thelonius sitting in a pool of blood. He grinned at her and raised a golden goblet filled with blood to his lips and growled.

  “Mine.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Helena woke up with a start. Sweat soaked her body and she still trembled in fear from the dream. She rested her head on her hand, trying to shake away the memories of the nightmare. She had lain down for a nap, because all day she had been plagued by an uneasy feeling that she could not shake. Eratos had returned to his shelter in the garden, perhaps he was even out stalking Thelonius. She did not know, but at this moment she wished she did. Her dream had brought an evil portent to her and it disturbed her greatly.

  Pinning up her hair and wrapping her stola around her, she made her way out of her bedchamber and into the garden. When she stepped outside the sun hung low in the sky. She had almost slept away the entire afternoon.

  Helena shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself as she looked out over the city. Dark clouds threatened the far eastern sky, a storm was rolling in. A cool breeze blew down off the peaks of Mount Silpious in bursts. She watched the boughs of her olive trees bend in the wind.

  It was a day like this, this feeling of unsettledness, which she experienced on the day Thelonius walked into her life, ruining it forever. She choked back a sob as she thought of her father again and how much she missed him.

  She wished Eratos was here with her at this moment to chase away the shades that were haunting her this day. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she heard heavy footfalls behind her. She did not need to turn to know it was Thelonius who approached her.

  “There you are, you whore.”

  Spinning around, she came face-to-face with Thelonius. Behind him was a large man, his curved blade telltale to the Eastern lands beyond the sands of the desert. Thelonius’ hand gripped her damask sheet—bedding she thought was disposed of—apparently he had found it. The telltale bloodstain on the sheet was proof enough to tell him she had been deflowered.

  “Ah, you’re home.”

  “Do not vex me, Helena.” He held out the sheet. “I take it you are no longer a virgin.”

  Holding her head up high, she did not answer him.

  “Do not deny it, Helena. You’ve been plucked.”

  “Aye, I have.”

  Thelonius’ face turned red. “You are my wife, you are supposed to remain faithful to me. I am the one who is granted the right to deflower you.”

  Helena laughed. “As if you would.” Her eyes narrowed. “You have no interest in me besides my money. What does it matter to you that someone else plucked my maidenhead?”

  “It was mine. I do not like anyone else taking what was mine.”

  “My body is not yours,” she spat.

  Thelonius took a step forward. “By marital rights it is. You should have remained chaste for your husband.”

  “Did you honestly expect me to remain faithful to you?” She laughed, her fists clenching with pent-up rage. “You murdered my father.”

  “I did no such thing. Your father took the coward’s way out and committed suicide.” Thelonius snorted. “I had proof he was out for Nero’s blood.”

  “He had no qualms with any of the Imperial family. He was loyal even as the blood spilled from his wrists. You killed him because he threatened to tell the empire about your disgusting need to bathe in blood.”

  “You were blind to your father’s indiscretions. He was a coward and died as a coward.”

  “How dare you? He did the honorable thing.”

  “The honorable thing would have been to face the Praetorian Guard like a real man.”

  Helena shook with rage. “You would do the same, the coward that you are.”

  Thelonius advanced on her, but she saw him wince in pain as he grabbed her upper arm, squeezing the flesh painfully. As she craned her neck she could see blood seeping through a linen bandage.

  “I am no coward.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  His eyes narrowed. “What?”

  “Retribution,” she whispered gleefully.

  “You whore. Who did you have here, and do not lie. I know it must be you allowing him access.”

  “I had no one in here with me.”

  Thelonius’ eyes narrowed and he advanced toward her. “Do not lie, your chamber smells of sex.” He proffered the stained sheet. “Your virgin blood is all the proof I need.”

  “And what are you going to do about it?”

  “I’ll divorce you. I finally have a legitimate reason to do away with you and keep your money for myself. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. I’ll take great pleasure throwing you to the streets where you’ll have to earn a living on your back.” He turned and smiled at the man behind him. “Actually, I already have an interested buyer.” Thelonius snapped his fingers, and the man approached her. Helena backed away.

  “All right, I had my lover in here with me,” she admitted, facing Thelonius. “He took me over and over and over again—right under your nose.”

  Thelonius visibly shook wi
th rage, his face going red. “Who is he? I will gut him like a fish before your very eyes.”

  “What does it matter to you? Does it burn you with jealousy he can please me, but you cannot?” She laughed with glee. “It is why you bleed your victims, bathe in their blood. You want youth, luster and some stone in your shaft. Tell me, Thelonius, does it work?”

  Thelonius shook her. “His name, or so help me gods I will bleed you.”

  “His name is Eratos.”

  A shiver of dread ran down her spine as she spied Eratos, sword drawn, standing behind Thelonius. His eyes were blazing with an azure fire as he stared at Thelonius with pure hatred.

  Thelonius spun her around and held a knife under her chin, the point digging into her throat like the sharp tooth of a wild beast.

  “I thought it might be you.”

  “Someone had to bed her, and only one of us was man enough to do it,” Eratos taunted.

  Thelonius growled.

  “Does it make you angry that he desires me over you, husband?” Helena choked out. Thelonius’ grip became tighter, the knife drawing a bit of blood.

  “Come a step closer, Celt, and I slit her throat.”

  Eratos stilled.

  “Do not listen to him, Eratos.”

  “Fine, but this gentleman here has come to purchase her.”

  “Do not,” Eratos said quickly, lowering his sword slightly.

  Thelonius began to laugh. “I see some hesitation on our dear gladiator’s face. Has the slave fallen in love with the married Roman woman?” He chuckled with delight, making Helena’s stomach churn. “This is a story worthy of Aeschylus.”

  “Let her go, Thelonius,” Eratos said calmly.

  “Lower your sword and we’ll talk.”

  “No, Eratos. Do not.”

  The metal rang out as Eratos’ weapon landed against the marble floor. “I have to, Helena. I have to.”

  “Kick it to me, brave warrior, and drop to your knees.”

  Helena felt the tears stinging her eyes as Eratos obeyed Thelonius, but he did not release her from his death grip.

  “Strip, slave, and stand on the far wall of the garden to face all of Antioch so they know you belong to me. If you do not comply, I will slit her throat and bleed her over the city.”

  Eratos said not a word as he removed his clothing and walked dejectedly to the high wall that bordered a cliff that dropped down into the city.

  “That’s it, warrior. Face Antioch. When I am through with you, you will wish you’d never been born.”

  Thelonius tossed her away and she slid across the dew-covered grass. The two men hefted her to her feet, holding her tight, yet they did not take her away. She watched as Thelonius climbed up on the wall. A lump formed in her throat as he stood beside Eratos, touching him.

  “I knew you would never be able to kill me, Eratos. Deep down, you love me. Admit. You cannot be without your master.”

  Eratos said nothing as he stared out over the city of Antioch. He was beaten again and there was only one escape. Thelonius turned to the men. “You can take the whore away for free, my compliments to your master.”

  “No!” Helena screamed as they dragged her away. She saw Eratos’ head snap around. Thelonius was unaware of the blue fire burning in his eyes. The warrior freed finally.

  Helena watched in slow motion as Eratos pulled a dagger from Thelonius’ belt and flung it. Helena let out a scream as it whizzed by her head, finding its mark in the base of the slaver’s throat. A warm spray of blood splattered her, before her captor crumpled to the ground.

  Thelonius roared with rage. “How dare you!”

  Eratos turned on him, growling in anger. Her heart lurched, knowing that Eratos meant to take Thelonius over the cliff with him. She could not let that happen.

  Rising to her feet, she pulled her stola off so it would not trip her. Closing her eyes, she screamed and ran forward. Thelonius screamed as she connected with his back, breaking open the scabs from his cut.

  Eratos jumped down beside her as Thelonius threw his arms up in the air before losing his balance and tumbling over the edge. She buried her head against Eratos’ chest, listening to Thelonius’ brief scream before there was nothing but silence.

  “Is he…?” she whispered.

  “Aye, he’s dead.”

  She began to shake over the realization of what she had done, and the fact that they were now both free.

  “I couldn’t bear him to hurt you, Eratos. I love you with every fiber of my being.”

  Eratos held her close. “And I you, anam cara. I had nothing to live for, until you.”

  Helena held back her tears of happiness. “You must hide for now. The guards will be here soon to investigate. I must act the part of a proper widow.”

  Eratos nodded. “I understand.” Helena helped him gather his things and he retreated to the confines of the olive grove alcove. It was only then she managed to walk to the edge of the garden, to the wall that dropped down to the streets below.

  She saw a crowd gathering around Thelonius’ broken body lying against the cobblestones, the guards looking up at the villa in mixed confusion.

  “By the gods, no!” she screamed so they could hear her. “My husband!”

  Epilogue

  Two months later

  She took the steps two at a time, the sounds of a chisel coming from what had once been Thelonius’ room. Now, she could hear Eratos working on it, converting it into a rooftop terrace where they could lie out and watch the stars together.

  She had played the part of the sobbing widow so well that the Antioch guards did not question her. She had told the soldiers a slaver had come to kidnap her and Thelonius killed him, but in his haste tumbled off the far wall. He was considered a hero, but she did not care. An Imperial scroll had come from Emperor Nero bestowing his condolences and as much as she wanted to tear it up she knew she could not. So she placed it in Thelonius’ funerary urn, which she promptly dumped into the sea, stating it was his fondest wish as there had been no will to attest to anything different.

  Everything belonged to her again. No more would her money be used for Thelonius’ sick need to bleed and torment unwilling subjects. He was gone, and both she and Eratos were free.

  As much as she wished to marry him, she knew they could not legally do so. Spiritually she knew they were bound together forever and by something secret growing underneath her heart.

  When she entered the chamber she saw the walls had been sanded down and Eratos was redoing them in Celtic tile work.

  She stood there for a moment, admiring the way his muscles rippled, the sun bronzing his skin. He was growing back his blond hair—he no longer shaved it down—and it thrilled her to no end thinking about the moment it would return to its full luster and she would be able to run her hands through it.

  Eratos turned and smiled at her. “Anam cara, I did not hear you come up.”

  “I have come to admire your work.”

  Eratos bowed, motioning her to come into the room. She stood in front of the shimmering tiles, staring at the intricate knot-work design done in turquoise.

  “What is it? It’s beautiful.”

  “It is a symbol for atonement. I thought it was fitting.”

  “Yes, very.” She ran her fingers over the cool pottery tiles. “Beautiful.” She could not stop grinning.

  “You’re looking very pleased with yourself this morning.”

  Helena chuckled. “I have a secret.”

  Eratos arched a brow. “Oh, do tell.”

  “I am with child.”

  He took a step back, dumbfounded. “Truly?”

  She nodded her head. “Are you pleased?”

  “Am I pleased?” He let out a roar of laughter and swung her around. “Anam cara, you have made me the happiest man in the world.” He gently kissed her. “I am so happy I found you, Helena.”

  “Aye and I am happy you came back, Eratos. My brave warrior, but do you not miss Britannia? We could retu
rn there.”

  Eratos shook his head. “No, we are safe here. I will remain your servant—no one will question our child’s legitimacy.”

  “Britannia is your home though.”

  He shook his head. “My home is here with you, anam cara. Now and forever.”

  Helena sighed. Forever sounded like paradise.

  About the Author

  Amy discovered her love of the written word when she realized that she could no longer act out the fantastical romances in her head with her dolls. Writing about delicious heroes was much more fun than playing with plastic men dolls with the inevitable flesh-colored “tighty whities”.

  She loves history, the paranormal, and will spew out historical facts like a volcano, much to her dear hubby’s chagrin.

  When she’s not thinking about the next sensual romp, she’s chasing after two rug rats and reading anything spicy that she can get her hands on.

  Amy welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

  Tell Us What You Think

  We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at Comments@EllorasCave.com.

  Also by Amy Ruttan

  Gladiator’s Revenge

  Hard Candy

  Love Thy Neighbor

  Male Order

  Masque of Desire

  Rain God

  Print books by Amy Ruttan

  Finely Aged anthology

  Fox’s Bride

  Sweet anthology

  Tantalizing Treats anthology

  Tempting Turquoise anthology

  Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

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