Gladiator Heart

by Alyssa Morgan

  The occasional cracking sound of the whip no longer startled her as the day turned to evening. Soldiers carried lit torches to brighten the darkness while the detail pushed on, but the prisoners walked in the dark. Many times they tripped and fell, and if one of their fellow men didn’t pick them up off the ground, they’d be whipped as they were dragged along until they staggered to their feet.

  Valeria watched everything that was done to them. It was an awakening experience to witness first-hand how badly the Romans treated these people. Her mind burned with the memory of how well Tristan had treated her when she’d been at his mercy. He’d spared her the degradations he now suffered. He’d been fair and compassionate to her, feeding her, giving her warmth and shelter, making mad, passionate love to her. A part of her had enjoyed being his prisoner, and after the corrupt behavior she’d seen from her own countrymen, Valeria was ashamed to call herself Roman.

  With all the walking, she had developed blisters on her feet. She must have walked for miles by now, but seeing what the prisoners suffered, she was determined to bear the nuisance of having sore feet. At least she wore shoes. How horribly must their bare feet ache when they were marched over stones and pebbles and dragged along in the dirt?

  Rufus rode up alongside her carrying a burning torch in his hand. She wouldn’t look at him. She was too proud to see him gloating or admit he was right.

  “Come away now, Domina,” he pleaded, keeping his voice soft and quiet. “You should have something to eat.”

  “I’ll eat when they eat.” She kept her eyes forward, a sudden pique of rage giving her renewed strength to keep on walking.

  Rufus heaved a sigh. “They won’t be eating.”

  “Then bring me more water.” She tossed her empty water skin to him.

  “How long do you intend to keep this up?”

  “As long as I feel like it.”

  “Gods, I’d like to beat the bluster right out of you.”

  Valeria gasped and shot him a look. He wouldn’t dare.

  “We’ll be stopping for the night soon. I’ll be back for you then.” With a nudge to his horse, he galloped away.

  Her weariness started to catch up with her when she thought of taking a rest and eating something. Her pride had pushed her to keep walking longer than she should have, but if Tristan and his men could do it under the whip, so could she, watching everything. It was quite an education indeed.

  The last person she wanted to see riding up to her on his great black horse was Gaius. From the smug look on his face she could tell he prided himself on his good looks. His skin was bronzed by the Roman sun and he had the typical square jaw her people were known for. His thick, blond hair curled over his forehead like he’d trained it to that action naturally. Pretty on the outside, and ugly on the inside. Valeria hoped he’d keep riding past her.

  “Still walking?” A light trace of humor infused his voice and he slowed his horse to walk beside her.

  “It would appear so,” she answered flatly, keeping her eyes on the road ahead.

  “You must be exhausted, my dear. Why don’t you give this up and ride with me for a while?”

  Valeria grated her teeth. She’d rather crawl on her hands and knees before she’d do anything with the likes of Gaius Cato. “I’m fine where I am.”

  “Nonsense,” Gaius scoffed, guiding his horse closer to her. “Give me your hand.”

  He leaned down and extended his hand, waiting for her to take it so he could help her onto his horse. Valeria ignored him and kept walking. Gaius sat back in his saddle, fighting to rein in his anger at her blatant show of disrespect, for when crossed, his temper could be almost uncontrollable.

  “Perhaps Rufus was right,” he drawled with distinct mockery. “You need a good walloping, and a husband to give it to you.”

  He’d teach her never to disrespect him. Just like a wild horse, she too, needed to be broken.

  “How dare you!” She stopped walking to stare up at him, clearly shocked by his words.

  Gaius leaned down and grabbed her, holding her tight as he dragged her up on his horse and settled her into his lap. Feeling the softness of her body stirred his arousal and he couldn’t wait for the day when he could claim this divine creature. She struggled and slapped at him while trying to slide off his lap, but he paid no mind to her efforts and circled his arms around her in a tight hold to keep her seated and pressed close to him. He could imagine how good she would feel when he held her down and got between her legs. He’d like to do it this very moment.

  “Put. Me. Down.” Her tone was imperious and commanding.

  Gaius disregarded her demand. No one gave him orders.

  “You may not realize it yet, but you’ll learn I know what’s best for you.” He purposely brushed his lips over her ear in a sensual manner, wanting to give her a glimpse of the delights he could share with her. “A firm hand will keep you in your place.”

  Gaius tightened his arms around her to emphasize his point and continued to caress her ear with his lips.

  Valeria brushed him off with a toss of her shoulder. What gave him the right to act this way? Not once had she given any sign or indication that she desired his attentions. The man was either very stupid, or very dangerous.

  “Come now, let’s get along.” His tone was pleasant and polite, although he squeezed his arms tighter around her and shifted her in his lap so he could press the hardness between his legs into her backside. “It’s a beautiful night and I’d like to share some of it with you.”

  Gaius nudged his horse and paraded her past the line of prisoners and the other soldiers as he led them to the front of the detail. Valeria found nothing beautiful about this night while being forced to tolerate such a brutish presence. How long would Gaius keep her on his horse?

  The Legatus turned when he heard them approaching and grinned proudly at Gaius. “I see you were able to talk some sense into our little antagonist.” His smile faded when he looked at Valeria.

  “She’s been through a terrible ordeal,” Gaius said. “I’m sure she’ll come around with time and patience.”

  “You’re just the man to do it.” The Legatus beamed with open admiration for his soldier. “Did you know, lady, that Gaius here trains horses for the Roman army?”

  “Does he?” She feigned interest in a mocking tone. “How nice for him.”

  Gaius squeezed his arms around her, like he was giving her a signal, letting her know he didn’t approve of her tone. If he thought to train her like one of his horses then he had no idea just how willful and stubborn she could be. This man might use force to get her to do as he wanted, but he’d never tame her spirit.

  “I’m sure once we return to Rome, Valeria would love to come visit my villa,” Gaius said. “My family owns some of the best lands outside of the city.”

  “That sounds lovely, what do you think, lady?” the Legatus asked her, a brief shimmer of hope in his eyes.

  “I couldn’t think of anything worse.”

  “My, you are a prickly little thing,” he commented with displeasure. “No wonder the Emperor can’t get you married off.”

  “She’s tired and hungry.” Gaius made the excuse for her. “Her mood should improve once we get closer to home.”

  Valeria doubted that. After the horrors she’d seen, she could never look at Rome the same way again. She’d lost respect for her once beloved city.

  “In the meantime,” Gaius said, “I’ll do my best to keep her spirits up.”

  Valeria shifted around in his lap, trying to get away from that hardness pressing into her and loosen his suffocating hold. She’d give anything to get away from him.

  “What do you say we take a little sprint through the forest, get the wind in your hair?”

  She didn’t like the suggestiveness of his tone. It was clear he meant to take off alone with her for other reasons. Would he dare to attempt such a brazen stunt?

  “The lady doesn’t leave this detail without me.” Rufus rode up
to their group. “She’s in my charge until she is wed.”

  Valeria didn’t deserve his protection after the awful way she’d treated him, so she was grateful he’d still stand by her side. The thought of being alone with Gaius terrified her. It was lucky for her Rufus remained loyal.

  “You don’t mind if we spend some time getting acquainted?” Gaius asked, almost too politely. “We were enjoying talking of home.”

  Valeria gave Rufus a pleading look, begging him for help, but he ignored it.

  “She can ride with you until we stop to make camp for the night,” Rufus said. “Then she shares my fire.”

  Though it angered her, Valeria deserved his harsh treatment. She’d make a point to apologize to Rufus, as soon as Gaius let her go.

  It was hard to separate the dreams and hallucinations from reality. The whole world around him had dissolved into fragments of blurry nothing. The pain didn’t go away, it didn’t get better. Sometimes he felt hot and feverish, other times he was shivering and freezing cold. His mouth was dry with thirst and hunger clawed at his insides.

  Tristan was barely alive when they finally stopped to make camp. He collapsed to the ground with his men and didn’t care that he had no food and water. He didn’t even care if he survived. What did he have to live for?

  Rome was to be his future. And he would die there. If he lived long enough.

  “Tristan.” Valeria softly whispered his name.

  Gods, what was she doing there? Life was bad enough without her interference. The more attention she showed to him, the worse the soldiers treated him. He kept his eyes closed and didn’t move, hoping it was just another hallucination. He knew it wasn’t when he felt her soft hands on him, and he didn’t have the energy to argue or push her away.

  “Drink.” She flooded his mouth with fresh, cool water.

  His mouth and throat were so dry that he couldn’t swallow at first and he started choking. He rolled onto his side and coughed up the mouthful of water.

  “Are you trying to kill me?”

  “I’m trying to help you,” she snapped in a harsh whisper.

  He glared at her. “I told you I don’t want your help.”

  “So you’d rather die?”

  He didn’t know anymore, but her touch reminded him of the life he’d once had, and lost, and the hurt was too much to bear. “Go away.”

  “Drink some water first.” She slapped the full skin of water against his chest.

  He relented and poured the water into his mouth, letting it saturate his swollen tongue and flow down his throat. He thought of his men and stopped drinking. They had to be just as parched as he was.

  He nudged Angus with his elbow and handed the skin off. “Pass it around. Compliments of the Roman.”

  “The rest of that was to clean your wounds,” Valeria scolded him.

  “The men have more need of it,” he said. “Besides, tomorrow they’ll slash the whip across our backs and it won’t make a difference.”

  “Let me put more salve on your wounds.” She pulled a small bundle from the waist of her breeches.

  Tristan suddenly wondered what she would look like in her own clothes, fresh and clean, with the golden waves of her hair hanging down her back, instead of dressed in men’s breeches, wearing a dirty, torn tunic and one of his furs. Her hair was woven into a long braid, but wispy strands curled around her face. Her cheeks were smudged with dirt. She was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  “Roll onto your side.” She shoved at him.

  Her fingers were gentle as she lathered on the salve that first burned, then cooled, and his skin shivered and twitched under her gentle touch.

  “Make sure you don’t sleep on your back,” she ordered, “and try to keep dirt out of the wounds.”

  Tristan knew that would be impossible. If the Romans weren’t giving them food and water, they certainly wouldn’t be keeping them clean.

  Angus handed the empty water skin back to Tristan and looked at Valeria. “Thank you.”

  She smiled and her eyes lit up. “You’re welcome. I’ll try to bring food—”

  “What do you think you’re doing?” The Roman soldier who’d been put in charge of torturing them appeared behind Valeria.

  Tristan saw the slight twinge of fear in her eyes, but she hid it well, squaring her shoulders and setting her lips into a stubborn line. The woman had enough nerve to defy an entire army, and he admired her daring. She was amazing.

  Valeria froze at the sound of Titus’s voice behind her. She should have been more careful, but she’d assumed no one paid the prisoners much attention during the night.

  “I asked you a question.” Titus spoke louder. “Were you not told to stay away from the prisoners?”

  “I just brought them something to drink.” She hurried to wrap up the cloth bundle of salve she’d brought for Tristan’s back and closed it in her hand.

  She felt the biting sting of the whip across her forearm before she heard the loud crack that followed. The bright pain shocked her and her gasp ended on a startled cry. Blood rose to her skin in a red line. Her eyes filled with tears as the stinging pain grew worse. That was only from one, single lash. How had Tristan survived a thorough beating?

  Valeria calmly rose to her feet, though she was screaming on the inside, and turned to face the soldier. “You would dare strike me?”

  “You were warned to stay away from the prisoners,” he replied in a cool tone. “Next time I’ll give you five lashes.”

  She didn’t want to find out how much that would hurt.

  “This has to stop.” Rufus emerged from the dark night like a phantom and walked over to her. “The soldiers have orders to follow, and if you continue to get in their way, I’ll let them do as they will with you.”

  “But—”

  “Start walking.” Rufus pointed towards where they’d made camp.

  She hated to think what would happen to her with Rufus no longer protecting her, but she also wanted to help Tristan and his men at least survive the journey to Rome. She had allies there and had a good chance of helping him. In that moment, she knew she could not have both, so she dragged her feet back to camp and climbed into the back of the wagon.

  There were certain times in her life when she wished for her mother. This was one of them. What would it feel like to be loved by a mother? To be held when you were sad, or afraid? To know that no matter what, there was one person in the world who would always love you? For all Valeria knew, she was not meant to have love.

  The next morning Valeria heard talk that another prisoner had died during the night. Unable to stand it, she walked as swiftly as her feet would carry her to where the prisoners were being tied to the back of a supply wagon to begin their long march for the day.

  Tristan stood beside Angus, not looking well, but he was alive. Valeria didn’t know what to say to him. Knowing he lived should be good enough.

  “You know you’re not supposed to be back here.” Titus uncoiled the length of his whip. “There are things you shouldn’t see.”

  “I’ve seen more than I want to, believe me.” She eyed the whip in his hand.

  Would he strike her again? She’d be sure the soldier’s mother got an earful of his rotten behavior when she got back to Rome. Gossip spread faster than fire in the streets.

  “As soon as you go, I can carry on with my morning’s business.” Titus held the whip like he had every intention of striking someone.

  “Let her stay.” Gaius rode up behind her. “Let her watch what happens when one does not obey their master.”

  Gaius sat proudly atop his horse, staring down at her with a smug smile. Valeria knew if these soldiers were about to enjoy something, she was about to hate it.

  Titus whipped the prisoners, shouting and yelling at them the whole time, cursing them as foul scum not fit to live to see the glory of Rome. One by one the prisoners collapsed under their punishment, falling to their knees. Tristan was the last to give in and
that earned him an extra nasty beating from Titus.

  Valeria could watch no more.

  “Stop!” She caught the end of the whip mid-swing and jerked it out of Titus’s hands.

  Before she knew what she was doing, she started lashing the whip at Titus, causing him to shield his face with his hands and simper like a coward.

  “Valeria, what in the name of the Gods are you doing?” Gaius jumped down from his horse and hurried to wrest the whip out of her hands. “What gives you the right to assault a soldier of Rome?”

  Valeria stared at Titus, hatred welling inside her as she panted heavily from her exertion. “I owed him one.”

  Gaius coiled up the whip and shoved it against Titus’s chest. He took Valeria over to his horse and forced her up into the saddle. She didn’t fight him this time. She’d won her battle for the day and knew any further outbreaks would only lead to her punishment. Gaius climbed up behind her and nudged his horse into an easy trot.

  “The next time you do something like that,” he said in a low, menacing voice at her ear, “I’ll see your back stripped bare and the lash brought down on that tender, beautiful skin of yours. I am not above such a thing. I’ll wield it myself.”

  Of that, Valeria had no doubt. But it wouldn’t happen this morning, and she was not going to let anything ruin her good mood. She had a great feeling of satisfaction for what she’d just done. Keeping up her reckless behavior, however, would only end in her receiving the sound lashing everyone was threatening her with. Valeria had proven her point. She would be returning to her old life soon, and it was time to start acting like a lady again. She’d learned just how unforgiving Rome could be otherwise.

  Chapter Ten

  In the slow-moving days that followed, Rome loomed ever closer. Snow still blanketed the land, but it was lighter and often melted away when the sun shared its warmth.

  It was late afternoon, ten days into their journey, when they reached the great walled city of Florentia. They entered through the main city gates where their party split up. The soldiers took the prisoners and supplies to the military barracks while Valeria and the officers marched through the city on their horses, passing the street vendors, restaurants and taverns, brothels, a public bath house, and the great amphitheater, before coming to a stop at an inn.