Seduced by the Gladiator

by Lauren Hawkeye

  I felt like squeaking, myself. We were in the company of the emperor of Rome.

  Christus placed himself between the man and Viola and me, ever the protector. The emperor was silent for several long minutes, speaking again only when we had been swallowed among a crowd of people vying for fresh fish at a popular vendor.

  Unable to even pretend that I was not the wary gladiator that I had been for years, I noted a dark-skinned man following us through the crowd. I did not feel as though he was a threat—I was certain that he was there to watch over the emperor.

  “Tell me why I should not kill you as you have killed my brother.” Viola’s hand shot out, clasping mine, and I squeezed her fingers in reassurance.

  We would not be intimidated. We had been through worse.

  “I suspect that you already have that reason, likely from the same sources that told you that we were not staying at the inn you were told we would be staying at.” I knew that my words were brash, but I took a calculated risk and spoke anyway. Christus grabbed my arm in warning, his body tense, and I held my breath, wondering if I had just signed the warrant for our deaths by being so bold.

  Instead, after a long moment, the emperor began to chuckle. He turned to face me, lifted his hood back enough that I could see his face. He looked nothing at all like Gaius, and for that I was profoundly grateful.

  “I appreciate your boldness, Lilia the fierce.” He cocked his head slightly, his golden brown eyes studying me intently. He appeared to approve of what he saw, for he nodded briskly, as if satisfied.

  “You are correct in that the treachery of my brother was not new to me.” The emperor resumed his walk, and I scurried to keep up with him, trusting Christus to keep an eye on Viola. The emperor studied a cart full of fresh figs, turning a plump one this way and that before tossing another coin at the vendor and strolling on, fruit in hand.

  “My brother had never been a creature in whom one could place much trust. Our father saw the touch of madness in him long before I did and asked me to watch out for my brother.” I thought that I detected a hint of wistfulness in the man’s voice, but it was gone before I could be certain. “Clearly I did not watch closely enough, for you and countless others have suffered greatly at his hands.”

  Turning suddenly, the emperor presented the fig to Viola, whose face was flushed red, even in the rain. She blushed even further at the gesture, accepting the fruit with a murmured thanks.

  “As compensation, I offer each of you a reward.” He watched as Viola bit into the fruit, clearly finding refreshment in the treat. If I was not very much mistaken, he seemed sad and sorry for the young girl’s predicament.

  “That is very kind of you, sir.” It struck me that I had no idea how one was to address an emperor. The absurdity of the entire situation had me holding back a fit of laughter.

  This was all so strange. I was a gladiator, a slave. So was my love, and so was the girl in our company. Yet here we were, dressed as freedmen, walking through the market with the emperor.

  The gods must have been in need of amusement.

  “I offer you a reward, if you answer a question for me.” I exchanged a quick glance with Christus, then felt pinned by those deep eyes of the powerful man beside me.

  “Anything you wish, your . . . sir.” I could feel the tension in Christus as he answered the man.

  The emperor smiled. “Your Imperial Majesty. This is my title.”

  Christus looked abashed, as if he should have known this. I squeezed his hand—there was no way that he could have known how to address the emperor.

  I wondered if I would ever be enough to bring my gladiator peace. He looked at me as I wondered, and took my hand in his with a smile.

  Whatever it was, we would get through it together.

  The emperor looked down at our clasped hands, his expression unreadable. He looked again at Viola, who had finished her fig and looked much revived by it.

  “Here is my question.” A dark curl fell from beneath the hood, clinging to the man’s forehead. In that moment he looked no older than myself or Christus—so young to have so much power. In truth, he was no freer than either of us.

  “I will give you two choices, and I ask which one you will choose.” Nerves began to worry at my belly. Viola crowded in close to my side. “One. You will be granted your freedom.”

  My heart leapt—freedom! The chance to be with Christus, to make a life with him.

  That was too easy, and I knew it.

  “You will have freedom, but you will be forced to live apart from your love. You will never see him again.” Christus growled low in his throat, and I felt like doing the same.

  I did not appreciate the threat of separation, not even by the emperor himself.

  The emperor raised his eyebrow at the growl. “I have not said that this will happen, gladiators. I am merely posing a riddle.”

  “Two. You may remain together for as long as either of you live, but you will return to the ludus and to your dominus.”

  “Oh, that is dreadful.” Viola covered her hand with her mouth as soon as she had spoken. The emperor looked at her with his eyebrows raised, surprised by her outburst. She looked down at her feet, abashed, then raised her chin defiantly as an afterthought.

  “Why would you do such a thing? What does it matter to you?” Viola was clearly upset as she rubbed a hand over her belly in agitated circles.

  I held my breath. Oh, what had she done? She had spoken so far out of turn, the emperor would not be condemned for ordering her execution.

  Instead he seemed intrigued by her boldness, as he had been by mine earlier. “Calm yourself, child.” Though the emperor himself was young, Viola could not have been more than half of his age.

  I saw his eyes linger on the curve of Viola’s belly, and wondered if he suspected, as I did, that the child was of his blood.

  He turned to Christus and me, and his expression was stern.

  “I require an answer to my question.”

  Opening my mouth to speak, I found that the words froze on my lips. I knew what my decision would be in a beat of the heart, but I suddenly needed to hear Christus speak first.

  What if his feelings faded in the face of freedom? I would not blame him for the choice.

  No, I would not blame him, though it would rend my heart in two.

  “Have you ever been in love, Your Imperial Majesty?” Christus had been quiet for much of the time that we had been walking with the emperor, allowing me to do most of the talking. Now he looked the man straight in the eyes, and I saw the ferocity of the gladiator who had fought for my life reflected there.

  The emperor seemed somewhat taken aback, but he had his answer at the ready. “No. I have not.”

  “I thought not.” The words Christus spoke were cool. “If you had ever loved a woman, truly loved one, then you would know that there is but one choice. A life with freedom, but without your love, is not a life at all.”

  Warmth flooded through me. He chose me. Christus chose me. Even when we returned to the ludus, we would be together.

  The lips of the emperor were twitching, and I rather thought that he was trying to repress a smile. “Your answer is the same, Lilia the fierce?”

  “Without question.” I wished, very much wished, that we were not in a public market. I wished to demonstrate my love for Christus right at that moment, and I rubbed my thighs together in an attempt to assuage the ache.

  The emperor tilted his head up, looked at the sky, at the gray clouds that continued to swirl through it. The rain that had been threatening to pour began to sprinkle down on us, like a gift from the gods. When he had finished contemplating whatever it was he thought of, he turned to Viola.

  He surprised us all when he placed a very, very gentle hand on the curve of her stomach.

  “And you, my dear. Where do you wish to go?”

  Viola’s eyes darted left, then right, to me and Christus, to the emperor, and back to me. I could see that she was completely
overwhelmed by the question.

  I knew, from things that she had told me, that she had never been asked a question like that in her life.

  “I wish to go with Lilia, wherever she goes.” I felt a strange thump in the vicinity of my heart. “Even if you send her back to the ludus—which you should not—I would go and serve in the house there. She is the first person who has ever shown me kindness.” Again startled by her outburst, she ducked her head, mumbling the last. “If you would have me, of course.”

  “Hmm.” The emperor regarded each of us in turn. When his eyes fell on me, I saw why the man had such fervent followers.

  His eyes were magnetic, pulling those around him ever closer.

  “I have made my decision.” Without warning, the emperor began to walk again. With a sidelong glance at Christus, then at Viola, who regarded me with wide eyes, we followed.

  We had no other choice, after all.

  The emperor walked back through the market, back to the vendor at which we had first seen him. With a wave of his hand that was so slight I barely noticed it, he beckoned for the man who had followed us through the market to come forward.

  The dark-skinned giant did as he was asked, never taking his eyes from his charge.

  “Liupold. The leaves.” The emperor sounded triumphant, and I was puzzled.

  Christus’ face showed me that he felt the same. Leaves? The emperor was going to give us leaves?

  Liupold reached into the folds of his woolen cloak, and when he withdrew his hand, he held three fresh, slightly crushed palm leaves in his fingers.

  Palm leaves.

  The rhythm of my heartbeat increased its speed. I could not dare to hope.

  “Oh.” The squeak emitted by Viola told me that she had seen what I had—that these three leaves now held in the hand of the most powerful man in Rome were indeed palm leaves.

  Christus said nothing, but when I dared to look at his face, I saw that he was trying to swallow back a great deal of emotion.

  “You know what these are, my dear?” The emperor looked at Viola, and again I saw that whisper of extra caring in his manner toward her. A small smile seemed to play around the corners of his lips, but before I could fix my gaze on it, it was gone.

  “They . . . those cannot be . . . palm leaves?” The quiver in Viola’s voice echoed how I was feeling.

  As a slave, to be presented with a palm leaf by your owner meant that he was granting you your freedom. Though we were not owned by the emperor, I did not think that anyone would dare to dispute his decision.

  My knees began to tremble, and I reached out blindly for Christus’ hand. I found that it was not entirely steady either.

  “Viola. Your master, my treacherous brother, no longer lives. Still I present you this leaf as assurance that you will not be sold to another.” Viola stared at the leaf dumbly, and this time the emperor truly did smile.

  “Take it, Viola.” With a touch that was very nearly tentative, the man reached out and placed a palm flat on her belly. “It is yours. You have earned it.”

  “I . . . I can never repay you.” Tears began to fall from Viola’s large eyes, and I wanted to wrap her in my arms. I sensed that she needed to stand alone, needed to take this step independently, so I remained still.

  “It is I who must repay you.” The emperor removed his hand from Viola’s belly and turned to me. “All of you risked your lives against my brother. You will be rewarded with more than these leaves.”

  And then mine was in my hand. I stared at it dumbly, the leaf shaking. I thought that there must be a wind, and then I realized that it was my hand.

  I was free. I was a freedman.

  “Oh.” Clutching a hand to my mouth, I turned to Christus, freezing when I saw the fierce pride that rioted over his features as the emperor handed him the final palm leaf.

  Viola and I had been slaves for most of our lives, and had known little else.

  Christus, however, had been born free. Now, after enduring things that no man should ever have to endure, he was free again.

  “I take my leave. Your compensation will find you within the day, wherever you may go. It is not wise for such transaction to take place in a market.” I turned to Christus, wanting to run into his arms, but finding myself frozen in place.

  We could be together. We were alive.

  “Be well, my dear.” Taking her tiny hand in his own, the emperor raised Viola’s fingers to his lips for a kiss. She stuttered, her face turning a bright shade of red.

  “Th-thank you, Your Imperial Majesty.” And then the man was gone, striding away from the market. Liupold and, after a moment, several others followed him like shadows.

  I looked at Viola, and then I cast my gaze upon my lover. I could not quite believe it, but it seemed to be true.

  We were free.

  EPILOGUE

  * * *

  The small house sat on a grassy hill, a swell of land that sloped down to the sea. It was not as large a building as the one that had contained the ludus, but none of us cared.

  For now, it represented freedom, and it was home.

  Caius and Marcus worked in the yard, their muscles straining as they worked on what appeared to be an ornate piece of furniture. This, I knew, was how they now made their living.

  Christus, Viola, and I did not yet know how we would contribute, but for the moment, the generous pouches of coin gifted to us by the emperor would be more than enough.

  “Brother!” Marcus shouted a greeting as he set eyes upon us. Swiping a heavily muscled forearm over his sweaty brow, he stood straight, and Caius followed suit, moving to his lover and placing a hand on the small of his back. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes of the love within this household.

  It was a strange situation all around, but I did not care. My gut told me that this would be the right thing to do.

  “Are they here?” The front door to the house opened, and a woman with an elegant beauty appeared in the opening. This had to be Alba. She was dressed in a simple cloth tunic and had a small baby tucked beneath one arm, but her bearing spoke of her noble roots.

  I felt intimidated, and from the way that Viola ducked her head and crowded in close to me, I could tell that she felt the same.

  “It is lovely to meet you.” Alba was so warm, so welcoming, that my reserves could not help but thaw.

  I no longer needed to be on guard all of the time. After years spent vigilantly watching my back, it was a habit that was hard to break.

  “And Viola. I hope the journey was not too difficult for you. Come inside.” I saw Alba’s eyes travel over the frame of the girl, who was so pregnant that she was close to bursting.

  Viola’s eyes flickered with hope. After all of the cruelty that she had suffered through, she wanted nothing more than to belong to a family, no matter how atypical that family might be.

  “Thank you.” Alba led Viola to the door of the house, and I followed, knowing that the girl would be anxious if I were not there. But the words that I spoke were to my lover as I tugged my fingers gently from his.

  “Thank you.” He had never looked handsomer to me.

  “Do you think that you will be happy here? At least for a while?” Christus’ voice was shadowed with concern. It had been his idea to travel to the home in which Caius and Marcus lived with their wife and infant daughter. He had thought that it could be a safe haven in which we could live or, at the very least, gain our bearings.

  The coin given to us by the emperor had been enough that we had not bothered to return to the ludus to retrieve any belongings, any of our former winnings.

  Neither of us ever wanted to see the inside of a ludus or an arena again.

  “I will be happy so long as I am with you.” My heart lifted as I spoke the plain words, and I knew that I spoke true.

  My life was now simple. So was Christus’. The emotion that I had seen on the emperor’s face as he had touched Viola’s swollen belly had told me that perhaps her future would not be qui
te so tidy, but for now at least, she could just live, could have her baby in peace.

  I had freedom, and I had love. It was better than any other victory in the world.

  GLOSSARY

  * * *

  Balteus: a sword belt.

  Carpentum: a common type of ancient Roman carriage or wagon.

  Cingulum: a wide leather belt, often reinforced with metal, worn about the waist by gladiators to protect from injury to the vital organs.

  Denarii: the common silver coin of Roman currency.

  Domina: the feminine form of dominus.

  Dominus: the title meaning master or owner, particularly of slaves.

  Doctore: the trainer of gladiators at a ludus.

  Freedmen: male and female slaves who had earned their freedom.

  Gaul: a region of Western Europe during the Roman era, inhabited by the Gaul people, or Celts.

  Litter: a type of human-powered transport, usually consisting of a lounge or bed attached to four posts, which are manned by people, usually slaves.

  Ludus: a gladiatorial school.

  Mulsum: An alcoholic drink made with wine and honey.

  Munera: provided by the wealthy, these were public works to benefit the masses. The arena games were one of the most common types of munera.

  Palla: a Roman woman’s shawl.

  Pater familias: the head of a Roman family.

  Patrician: refers to the elite families of ancient Rome.

  Pits: The common term for the quarry from which building stones were mined. The stones, which were used for nearly all buildings in ancient Rome, were mined by slaves.

  Plebeian: common, working-class or lower-class citizens of ancient Rome.

  Pluto: a Roman god of the underworld.

  Senator: a member of the Roman senate, a political institution and advisory/governing body in Rome. Senators were not elected, but appointed.

  Strophium: the brief leather garment worn by a female gladiator to cover her breasts.

  Subligaculum: the brief garment worn by gladiators to protect their modesty.