“I cannot say for certain. The medicus at the fort will look at what we’ve found. He may be able to tell.”
She closed her eyes and tried to erase the images in her brain, but they kept coming. Would they ever leave her in peace?
“Will people criticize you for allowing me to live in your quarters?” she asked.
“I’ll speak to my superior and gather his permission. No one will dare speak ill of my decision...at least not to my face.”
“Will it hurt your chances for promotion?”
He tugged on her nipple again, and her back arched in reaction.
“No.”
Why didn’t she believe him?
“Come, let us talk no more of death and promotion.”
“What shall we talk about, then?”
“Look at how beautiful it is today. The sun is bright, it’s warming, and we’re alive. What more is there?”
As he requested, she drew in the moment, pulled it into her heart and memorized it. She would cherish this simple time with him, isolated with each other, untouched by shadowy thoughts and worries.
Chapter Fifteen
“Love is full of anxious fears.”
Ovid
Roman Poet, BC 43– c. AD 18
“I would like to skip attending the games this afternoon, sir,” Terentius said to Capito. “I need to question more people about Sulla.”
Capito nodded to Terentius as they stood in Capito’s commodious quarters. Capito had just returned from the baths, his thick black hair glistening wet.
“I understand your reluctance to attend the games when you are investigating that chamber full of bodies. But you know how political this is. We’re required to attend, and so we shall.”
Terentius gritted his teeth for a moment, but insubordination toward the highest-ranking centurion at the fort wouldn’t be wise. Capito was a fair man and reasonable, but he knew which way the wind blew.
Capito crossed his arms, his gaze curious. “Do you plan to marry Adrenia?”
“It’s uncertain.”
“What is uncertain about it? Do you love her or simply want to copulate?”
Capito’s blunt statement gave Terentius serious pause. “I have great concern and affection for her, sir.”
Capito uncrossed his arms and headed to one table where a bronze wine krater waited. He poured two goblets and handed one to Terentius. “You find it odd that I asked about your woman?”
“No, sir. But I apologize for not asking permission to put her in my quarters right away.”
Capito drank a healthy swallow of wine before responding. “It is of no consequence. I know you are honest and a good soldier. I asked if you planned to marry her because it would assure her position here at the fort.”
Marriage. Such a solid, permanent word. “I understand that. I’m not certain she would marry if I asked, sir. She refused me once because she wishes independence. Now that she is opening the shop with Longa...well, she will have even more freedom.” He shrugged. “At this point as long as she is with me, I am happy. As long as she is happy, that is all I could wish for.”
Capito nodded. “Of course. Permission for Adrenia to stay with you is granted.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m most grateful.” He saluted the superior officer.
“We’ll see how grateful Adrenia is after my wife talks her ear off.”
Terentius joined in the other man’s laughter.
Terentius drank his wine in a thirsty swallow. “Again, your generosity is much appreciated.”
“Then be gone with you. We’ll see you at the games. By the way, bring along someone you can fight who won’t accidentally kill you. Unfortunately, that has happened before.”
Terentius’s smile faded. “I’m sorry?”
“Ah, they forgot to tell you that beneficiarius are required to do a gladiatorial display. It’s best to take your optio if you trust him with your life.”
Terentius cursed.
Capito laughed. “You aren’t prepared.”
Terentius’s ego stung. “I can fight anyone.”
“Of course you can.”
“Why is it a mock fight?”
“We don’t want to kill our valuable beneficiarius. At least not yet.”
“Ah.”
“Be prepared, though. Sometimes they like to switch out a real gladiator at the last moment as a test of your manhood.”
When Terentius left and headed to his quarters, he wondered if the rest of the day would tax Adrenia’s reserves. She’d already put up with too much violence in her life. Now she’d witness gladiatorial upheaval.
“There he is.” A smile formed on Longa’s cherry lips. She gazed out over the small amphitheater, which seated no more than two thousand, the entire population of Durovigutum. “Your man is very handsome.”
Adrenia watched with trepidation as Terentius stalked out onto the field. Longa was right about Terentius, of course. “He is.”
Adrenia found herself disliking every minute of this spectacle until this moment.
“You haven’t enjoyed this much, have you?” Longa asked.
“No.”
Adrenia hadn’t wanted to witness gladiators cutting each other to ribbons, but as it turned out, these games didn’t require much bloodletting. The gladiators didn’t fight to the death, and while some of the wounds looked awful, no one lost their head or limbs or...she shivered.
Longa tucked a large fur closer around their feet. “Take heart. Terentius and Victor are the ending highlight.”
“Goddess, I hope Victor doesn’t hurt him.”
Longa laughed softly. “Such faith you have in your man.”
“No, it isn’t that. If it came down to it, I’m sure Terentius could kill him. But he wouldn’t want to. Despite their rank difference, I can tell they are friends.”
Longa sat forward, her expression pensive. “Indeed. Capito thinks highly of them both. Now watch. I think Terentius struts around the arena just for you.”
As Terentius arrived in the center of the arena, Adrenia felt a full-scale tingle overtake her lower belly. They sat near to the bottom of the ring, so she could see him without difficulty. She allowed the sexual drum inside her to beat, to pound out a sound that thrummed and hummed. Terentius wore a blue tunic, wide belt with gladius, and a longer sword was clasped in his right hand. Carved with fascinating symmetry, his muscles flexed and bunched as he moved. She watched his powerful muscles contract and lengthen as he walked.
An announcer bellowed out his statements. “Today, at the end of the games, we have a special guest. Originally from Deva, a legionnaire of Legio Twenty Valeria Victrix has joined our fort. Please welcome the beneficiarius, Centurion Terentius Marius Atellus.”
Terentius held his arms straight up and the crowd roared. He didn’t smile arrogantly as many men might have, but looked completely serious. Within a few seconds another man walked into the arena.
“Wait.” Adrenia’s fear, calmed to a dull memory from this morning, returned. “Where is Victor?”
“I don’t know. I thought he was to fight Terentius.”
Capito returned to his seat next to his wife. “What is the matter?”
Longa clasped her husband’s forearm. “Victor is not in the ring with Terentius.”
Capito smiled, and Adrenia wanted to strangle him. How could he look so lighthearted?
“Never fear ladies, Victor will enter the arena in a moment. It appears as if they’ve brought in a criminal to fight them both one at a time.”
Adrenia looked closer. The other man wouldn’t stand a chance against Terentius or Victor and certainly not them both. Tall but skinny, the man limped. He looked scared to death.
“Are they to kill the man?” Adrenia asked.
“That’s the idea.” Capito glanced at her. “But knowing Terentius, the death will be merciful.”
Adrenia had already seen Terentius kill, but only to save her life. For sport...well, she didn’t know if she could respect him for that. Reg
ardless of what society dictated as acceptable, Adrenia always found this type of sport sickening. She inhaled deeply to try and ward off severe anxiety.
Victor strolled in a few seconds later.
The announcer called out again. “Last, we have Domitius Quintus Victor, Optio to Terentius Marius Atellus.”
Victor and Terentius stood far apart, with the hapless man in the middle watching them both with wide-eyed terror. Adrenia watched the men with trepidation building within her heart.
Longa patted her hand. “It will be all right, dear. Terentius and Victor won’t torture the prisoner.”
“It will be a clean death,” Capito said. “An honorable one.”
Shaking inside, Adrenia watched.
Trumpets blared and the crowd screamed, shouted, shook their fists. Eager for more. Victor and Terentius circled the man, but he apparently did not know what to do. The crowd shouted obscenities and encouragements. When it became obvious the man would not fight and did not know how, Terentius held his hands out and talked to the man. Victor kept watch. The crowd cooled down. Adrenia bunched her tunica, one hand over her heart.
“By Mars and Mercury, this is odd.” Capito sniffed. “I have never seen a prisoner give up like this.”
Terentius and Victor took the prisoner by both arms and urged him out of the arena.
Capito snorted. “Well, that man is going to die one way or another, just not by their hands.”
“What happens now?” Adrenia asked.
Capito smiled. “Victor and Terentius must fight each other.”
“But...”
“Do not worry,” Longa patted her arm again. “They will not hurt each other, will they, Capito?”
“I doubt it. Although with real weapons it becomes difficult not to.”
Adrenia crinkled her tunica beneath her fingers, tension easing as Victor and Terentius received the crowd’s appreciation with good-natured smiles.
“Victor and Terentius the merciful.” Cheers went up and the chant filtered throughout the almost full amphitheater. “Victor and Terentius the merciful.”
Adrenia returned her attention to how Terentius’s body moved. As he participated in the mock fight, lunging with his sword, swiping, swinging, barely missing his optio by inches, she had to admire him.
Victor took a swipe at Terentius and blood beaded up on Terentius’s forearm, and Adrenia gasped.
“He’s all right,” Capito said.
As Terentius’s body glistened with sweat, Adrenia fell into an enjoyable trance watching him. Though the crowd roared and clapped, and Terentius and Victor smiled through the mock battle, a hot, stirring need burgeoned. She watched the absolute competence in Terentius’s actions as he led the slightly less skilled optio on a dance.
Terentius was animal. Hot and strong and stirring to her female wants and needs. Not far from where she sat, several women called out to him, suggesting what they’d like to do to him and with him.
“Fuck me, Terentius,” one woman cried out from somewhere nearby.
Adrenia’s mouth fell open.
Longa chuckled, her pretty eyes filled with mirth. “Pay them no mind, Adrenia. Of course they want to mate with him. He’s a gorgeous man.”
Adrenia’s mouth stayed open as her gaze darted to Capito. He didn’t appear to pay the least attention to what they said.
Adrenia couldn’t find the words, if she’d ever known the right words.
Longa leaned closer to parlay advice. “It’s normal to feel that way when you see a fine specimen of manhood.”
Adrenia sighed and nodded. Normal. Well, that was good. “No one ever thinks I’m normal.”
Longa laughed. “In this you are completely.”
Adrenia returned her attention to the mock fight. Venus seemed to have taken control of her. She wanted to hold Terentius, to kiss him, to give him whatever satisfaction he required. A sweeping sensation drove her emotions. As she watched his arms move, his legs pump as he feinted, twisted, slashed, worked...oh, the gathering storm inside grew higher, hotter, screaming for attention.
Within a few short minutes, the men closed their mock fight and the crowd roared with laughter and cheers. Both men bowed, and then saluted the crowd on all sides of the circle at least six times. More cheers followed.
Capito took his wife’s hand. “I told you they’d be popular.”
“Let us meet them down below.” Capito urged his wife to stand, and Adrenia followed.
Adrenia watched Victor and Terentius head for the exit. She looked away and heard a shout, then a roar from the crowd. A gargantuan man with armor, helmet and sword rushed into the ring. He jammed into Victor and plowed him flat onto his back. Adrenia gasped and covered her mouth. The ugly beast of a man hesitated as Victor lay unmoving on the ground. Terentius went stock still, arms akimbo, feet braced apart, muscles taut. The big gladiator easily stood a head or more taller than Terentius.
“What is happening?” Adrenia asked.
Capito chuckled. “Aha! A surprise for the men.”
She stared in disbelief at Capito’s ability to laugh at this turn of events.
Longa clasped Adrenia’s arm for what seemed the hundredth time. “It’s quite all right, my dear. Terentius can handle the man.”
All three sat in their seats again.
Adrenia’s throat contracted as fear she couldn’t control threatened to choke her. Covering her mouth with both her hands, she watched as the huge gladiator lunged at Terentius. Terentius feinted to the right, quicker on his feet than the gladiator. Though the gladiator stumbled, he righted and turned, ready to fight again. A clang sounded as the men’s swords came together. Even the sword the gladiator held was longer than Terentius’s. With armor, larger sword, and superior height—
No. She couldn’t bare it.
The savage fight below sent ice through her veins. Everything inside her coiled in trepidation. Sweat gleamed on both the men, their eyes narrowed and nostrils flared. As she watched Terentius, Adrenia’s stomach lurched and tumbled. She wrapped her cloak tighter around her. Capito shouted instructions to Terentius—not that he could hear the man above the screaming crowd. Adrenia couldn’t stop a few tears from falling, her fear for Terentius so acute she thought she’d be ill.
Terentius grappled, dodged, swift on his feet. As a man he defined poetry in motion, his arms stalwart and rippling with muscle, his legs propelling him without problem over the sandy soil. The gladiator shouted obscenities as he came at Terentius again and again. She wanted to scream as well, anything to vent the horror building inside her. Her pulse fluttered, her heartbeat frantic, her sense of smell acute. Suddenly, with a rapid stabbing movement, Terentius jammed his sword straight through the gladiator’s middle. For what seemed an eternity, the man stayed impaled on the sword, his face frozen in almost comical surprise. Terentius swiftly drew back the sword. The man crumpled at Terentius’s feet. The crowd roared its approval, the cacophony deafening. Adrenia couldn’t join in the cheer as she brushed away tears and relief staggered her.
Terentius didn’t throw his arms up in victory as he had with his mock fight. He threw a hard look at the crowd and crouched over the still-prone Victor.
She stood with everyone else, then turned to Capito and Longa. “I have to get away from this crowd. I’ll be outside near the north part of the arena.”
“Wait—” Longa said.
“Let her be,” Adrenia heard Capito tell his wife.
Grateful they didn’t come after her, Adrenia made her way through the cheering mob with slow but determined steps. She reached the steps and went down, but it took some time to exit. Contrary to what she’d told Capito and Longa, she didn’t stay put once she reached the north exit. People already filed out, and the jumbled, loud menagerie added to her agitation.
No. There was only one place she wanted to be. To see Terentius. To assure herself he’d faired well and that the gladiator hadn’t harmed him.
Propelled to the opposite side, she worked
her way through the thick hoard until she reached the gladiatorial barracks. In the back of her mind, she realized how hasty, how rash this was. Dangerous men dwelled nearby. She didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was seeing Terentius.
She walked through a colonnaded area cut off from the crowds. Directed by pure instinct, she tracked straight toward where she believed Terentius would be.
As she came around one corner, Terentius exited a room and stood at the entrance. He turned toward her and stopped in place. Eyelids at half-mast, lips parted, he looked undeniable, a force as potent as the gods themselves. Elation replaced the gnawing concern she’d experienced since the gladiator had stepped in the arena and challenged this soldier.
Terentius didn’t smile as she expected, but neither did he frown. Droplets of water gleamed on his hair and patterned his shoulders and arms. Without his sword he still projected a lethal force that affected her on every level. A fresh tunic covered his powerful form. He appeared healthy, hearty, and capable of fighting ten more gladiators.
Her heart pumped with excitement, with awareness. Everything that had happened to her over the weeks, the shocking weight of it, all came down to an extraordinary moment. She didn’t feel like the same woman. Terentius stared at her across the expanse, a heightened awareness within his glittering eyes. He stalked toward her, the untamed certainty of a predator in his walk, his features. When he reached her, his lips parted but said nothing. His gaze captured and held hers, and noise from the arena disappeared. She’d never felt this heady, this dizzy with both delight and apprehension.
He towered over her, only inches separating them. She stepped backwards into a shadowy, deep alcove and bumped into cold stone wall.
He took one more step toward her.
Two.
His body touched hers. She reached up and traced the prickle of hair along his jaw line. Her voice was a thread of sound. “You’re alive.”
His gaze didn’t soften. Closer, closer, his lips hovered within inches of hers. “Yes.”
Her voice wavered. “I thought you would die.”
“I would only die for you.”
Terentius’s husky confession sealed her fate. From this moment on there would be no other man for her. Were she to lose him to the fates, to the merciless winds of time, no other would find a place within her heart.
For a Roman's Heart Page 21