She followed one of his girls down a narrow walkway that led to his office. The room was larger than she expected, with a table in the middle, and stacks upon stacks of books lining the walls. His back was to her as he faced a large sheet of parchment tacked to the wall and made furious notes in the different columns.
“A lady to see you,” the girl announced, then she lowered her head and ducked out of the room.
Vorenus wheeled around and eased into a friendly smile when he saw her. “I’ve been expecting you.”
“I imagine you once thought you’d take my coin and never see my face again.”
“I admit, in the beginning, I pegged you for an easy mark, but now you lead all the bets.” He poured two cups of wine and offered one to Valeria.
She accepted the drink with a nod of thanks and took a sip, watching Vorenus as he pulled out the wooden box that held the winnings for the bets placed with him. She’d gotten to know him better in the few times she’d come here, and she was starting to think him a handsome man, or maybe she’d just developed a liking for beards. He was a little rough around the edges, but he was honest and trustworthy. Not something one would expect from a shady character.
“What are the odds for today?” she wondered, looking at the chart on the wall behind him. She could make no sense of it, but Vorenus could track all of his bets, and that was good enough for her.
“Six to one for today’s games,” he said, while counting out her winnings from a few days ago. “You interested?” He gave her a cocksure smile, knowing she had every intention of placing another bet.
She giggled and sipped from her wine. “I’ll put down two thousand today, if that’s all right.”
He piled a neat stack of coins on the table in front of her, and she took her winnings and filled her purse, leaving two thousand denarii sitting on the table. She’d already made five thousand denarii as profit. If the odds stayed in her favor, she’d have more money than she knew what to do with. She was already having trouble finding places to hide it all in her rooms.
“That’s really going to upset the board.” Vorenus smiled at her over the rim of his cup, and then took a long swallow. “Half my bettors won’t put up until they see what you’ve laid down.”
She gave a casual shrug of her shoulder and smiled an impish grin. “I figure I’m playing with profit now, why not get a little adventurous?”
“I never would have guessed you to be so genuine and modest.” He perused her with an admiring gaze. “It’s not like those of your station to treat common citizens as equals, yet you’ll laugh at my jokes and share a drink with me and my men downstairs. You have a kind heart, lady.” He raised his cup in salute to her and took a drink.
Valeria blushed at his heartfelt compliment. She didn’t think he’d recognized her, and she couldn’t have it get out that she’d been coming here. “Please, if you’d do me a favor and not tell anyone that I—”
“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” he assured her. “I’m not one to prattle on or spread gossip. That’s a woman’s job. I’ve been telling everyone you came from the north after selling all your worldly possessions so you could earn enough money to free the gladiator because he’s your heart’s true love.”
Valeria couldn’t hide the look of shock on her face. This was unbelievable. The man couldn’t possibly know how close to the truth he’d come with his story. Was this some sort of joke?
He smiled boldly. “It makes things more interesting, what do you think?”
“I think you should stop teasing your patrons with such ridiculous stories.” She awkwardly returned his smile. “They’re bound to get caught up in some silly, romantic notion.”
“A little romance would do us all good,” he said. “Life isn’t worth living without it.”
In ten more days, she would realize the meaning of his words when she was wed to Gaius. At this point, all she could do was pray for a miracle, or her life was going to be over before it had even started.
“Will you stay for a while and keep a lonely man company?” He indicated an empty stool in front of the table.
Valeria felt it wise not to give Vorenus any romantic notions of his own and had to refuse. “I’m afraid I can’t today. I’ll be joining my cousin at the games.”
“I’d ask you to give him my best, but that would be a dagger in his back, and I’ll not set a lady to such a gruesome task.”
Vorenus put great trust in her to speak of such treason against the Caesar of Rome, but he wasn’t alone in his thinking. The people were getting tired of Crispus and his dictatorial ways. His disregard for the Senate and lack of respect for the citizens was quickly earning their disfavor. She had no wish to be involved in any of it. She’d warned her cousin not to go against the people’s wishes, and he ignored her advice, so she would let him stand alone. Soon she’d be away from the city on Gaius’s country estate and far removed from the daily politics. It was one thing she could be glad for.
“My cousin has much growing up to do I’m afraid,” she admitted sadly. “In time he’ll come to see the error of his ways.”
“His time may be coming sooner than you think.” Vorenus turned somber, serious. “Watch out for yourself, lady. There are intrigues afoot, and I’d hate to see you caught up in them.”
His warning put her on edge, but she was thankful for it at the same time. “You’re a good man, Vorenus. I feel lucky to have met you.”
“Don’t flatter me too much.” He gave a devilish grin. “I might start to get airs.”
Valeria laughed. It was too late for that. “Good day to you.”
“And to you, my lady.” He inclined his head respectfully.
She secured her purse in the pocket she’d sewn into her cape and made her way back down the wobbly stairs. She had just enough time to make it to the arena to meet Crispus.
A brisk breeze kept the afternoon fresh and cool, but with the bright sun and the brilliant blue sky they wouldn’t have to worry about rain. Valeria had been wrong to think she’d have better seats at the arena with her cousin. Crispus, Gaius and senator Braxus sat in the front row of seats, while she and Septima were stuffed away in the back row with the servants.
“I can’t see anything.” Valeria plopped back in her seat with a huff and folded her arms across her chest.
“Did you expect to be sitting down front with the men?” Septima retorted in jest as she lifted a hand and inspected her nails, seemingly bored. “They talk of politics and war. Nothing a woman would be interested in.”
“I came here to see the games, not to sit with you.” Valeria lifted her feet up on the seat and stood in her chair. She could see the arena clearly, but she still felt so far back.
“Would you sit down?” Septima hissed, glaring up at her. “People are watching us.”
“I don’t care.” She was actually having fun knowing her actions were upsetting the evil witch.
“I’m sure Gaius cares. He brought you here to show you off now that your engagement has been announced.”
“He didn’t bring me here.” She trembled at the inescapable thought. “Crispus did.”
Gaius turned in his seat and looked at her over his shoulder. The silent reprimand in his eyes was clear, but they weren’t wed yet and her life wasn’t over, so she’d do as she pleased. It might be her last chance.
“Dear Gods,” Crispus said, also looking back at her. “You’ve been sitting with the common citizens so long you’re starting to behave like one.”
Effectively upbraided, Valeria took her seat and maintained a straight, regal poise, while on the inside she rebelled at having to share such undesirable company. If she’d been more careful she wouldn’t be stuck up here. It was her own fault.
“How can you endure sitting through the games with those people?” Septima shuddered in revulsion. “I couldn’t think of it.”
“I was sitting with Lucia.”
“You can’t get more common than that woman.” Crispus di
dn’t bother to mask the insult.
Valeria took the affront personally. “How can you say that? She raised me.”
“She did not,” he argued back. “She was nothing more than your nursemaid, and don’t forget how she left my father’s service while you were still a child. What kind of loyalty does that speak of?”
“She left because she was emancipated and no longer needed to work for a wage.” Valeria shouldn’t be letting her cousin upset her. He had no understanding of her relationship with Lucia.
“Ha! Emancipation.” He gave a bitter laugh. “What a thing for a woman. I should see the practice outlawed.”
“I do not think the citizens would approve of such an action,” Senator Braxus warned casually. “Which reminds me, will you be present at the next Senate meeting?”
Braxus was one of the younger senators, and had been appointed to reason with Crispus when it came to getting along with the people. He was learning the task was a difficult one.
“I don’t have time to play along with the Senate’s games. I’m busy ruling an Empire.”
Senator Braxus assessed him with a speculating look. “I thought it was your father who rules this Empire.”
Crispus had the good sense to appear contrite. “Certainly any final ruling would come from my father, but I find we are in agreement on many things.”
The senator turned his attention back to the games. “Your father wasn’t a real fan of the arena, but in his absence you’ve brought the games back with a frequency many find astounding.” He looked back to Crispus, gauging his reaction to the affront.
Crispus smiled, but his eyes were full of hostility. “In that aspect, I give the people something they want.”
“Or something you want.”
The senator dropped the conversation, leaving Crispus fuming in composed silence.
“It won’t be long before the city has a special wedding to celebrate.” Septima attempted to fill the awkward silence by bringing up the one subject Valeria had no desire to discuss. “How are your plans going, Valeria?”
“Everything is moving along,” she said. With each passing day her dreadful fate drew closer.
“Who did you hire to make your gown?” Septima persisted with her harassment.
What gown?
Valeria was not submitting to her fate willingly. “Lucia and I are making one together. It’s going to be a surprise.”
Septima pursed her lips in a disapproving smile. “I’m sure it will be quite lovely.”
Gaius turned and smiled at Valeria. “My new wife will look lovely in anything.”
Valeria averted her gaze to avoid his threatening stare and scanned the crowd in the stands. There had to be some way to escape her upcoming nuptials.
“Here come those warriors from Gaul,” Crispus announced, sitting forward in his seat with excitement.
“They seem to be well-liked by the crowd,” Senator Braxus said. “It didn’t take long for the odds to turn in their favor.”
Valeria smiled with a sense of pride. She’d been partly responsible for that with her outrageous bets.
“I do admit they’ve gained favor quickly,” Crispus agreed. “And I think they shall fall just as fast.”
Valeria noticed the sinister gleam in his eyes. Her cousin was plotting something. Did he endeavor to be the one who would bring about their fall? He wouldn’t dare go against the crowd and order the gladiators executed. The people would never forgive him. Still, she couldn’t help feeling that time was running short for Tristan.
She had to think of something. She had to find some way to free him.
“I feel today will prove an interesting show,” Crispus said. “I’ve taken it upon myself to bring the people a real battle.”
On one side of the arena, Tristan stood waiting, while from the other side, Angus entered.
Gods, no.
Crispus meant to have them fight each other.
For the first time, Tristan entered the arena without Angus. He didn’t expect they could continue fighting as a team forever, but he missed his friend’s presence by his side. Seeing him step out from under the opposing gate covered in armor and wearing a helmet, a spear in his hand, set Tristan to worry. Did they intend to pit him and Angus against each other?
One of them was going to die.
And Tristan wouldn’t let it be Angus.
The crowd was silent as they walked out to the middle of the arena to greet each other. They both offered a quick bow of their heads to the Caesar in his sheltered section of seats, dutifully acknowleding him for the honor of letting them fight in his arena, then turned back to face each other.
Angus took off his helmet and tossed it to the sand. “Can you believe they want us to kill each other? What is wrong with these people? I thought they liked us.”
“They like a fight,” Tristan said. “They like blood.”
“What should we do?” Angus raised his brow in question.
“Let’s fight until one of us wins and beg the crowd for missio.”
Angus laughed in understanding. “Are you ready to eat some sand, brother?”
Tristan swept Angus’s feet out from under him and dumped him on the ground. “You first, brother.”
Angus stabbed the end of his spear into the sand and pulled himself to his feet. “You want to play it like that?”
“It’s about time I gave you a lesson on how to fight. You hit like a woman.” Tristan smiled in jest.
He and Angus used to spar like this back home and they were skilled at taking deadly hits without actually hurting each other. Sometimes in camp they’d fight for the men and let them place bets on who would win. He and Angus would give the crowd a good show before ending it with a plea for mercy.
Angus attacked with his long spear, and Tristan used his shield to defend against the blows and his sword to return the attack. The crowd cheered as they moved around the arena in a fighting dance with each other.
Angus drew blood from Tristan’s arm with the sharp head of his spear. Tristan came back and slashed him across the chest with the tip of the sword. The wounds they inflicted on each other looked worse than they actually were, but the crowd would need blood in order to be satisfied.
Angus charged Tristan with the spear, ferociously attacking his shield and trying to disarm him. He paid Tristan his due when he used the end of the spear to sweep his feet out from under him. Tristan dropped his sword when he fell onto his back in the sand, and Angus attacked him from above, stabbing at his shield.
The crowd cheered and roared when Angus went after him on the ground. Then an opening presented itself and Tristan slammed the side of his shield into Angus’s leg. Angus stumbled, allowing Tristan to get to his feet, and they fought shield against spear for the crowd.
“Are you ready to go down?” Angus asked.
Tristan took a crouching stance. “No, but you are.”
He swung the shield and smashed it into Angus’s chest, then caught him under the chin with the hard edge. Angus swiped at the blood pouring from his cut lip.
“Now you’re going to get it.”
“I can’t wait.” Tristan started backing towards the sword on the ground behind him. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Angus drove him back with the spear and the hard blows finally sent him to his back on the ground. Angus stabbed the spear through the shield and the sharp point grazed Tristan’s arm. When Angus tugged on the spear to remove it, it stayed stuck in the shield. Tristan took his opportunity and threw the shield aside, sending the spear with it. He reached for the sword on the ground and slashed Angus across the thigh, drawing more blood than he’d wanted to. Angus dropped to his knees, panting heavily.
“Aye, that was a good one.”
Tristan jumped to his feet and held the tip of the sword at Angus’s throat. “Do you yield?”
Angus bit out a curse, then extended his right arm, holding two fingers up to the crowd. The plea for missio.
“Ne
xt time, you get to end up on your knees,” he grunted, giving Tristan a taunting, sardonic stare. “This is going to be bad for my image.”
Tristan tried to keep from smiling while he held the sword to Angus’s throat and listened to the chanting crowd, calling for Angus to live. He knew they’d be merciful on Angus, it was his life he wasn’t certain about. The people were on their feet, all thumbs turned upward and one word echoing through the stands.
Live.
Tristan glanced up at the Caesar, the ruler of the games, and awaited his instruction.
Valeria’s heart raced wildly as she scanned the crowd in the stands, looking at all the people of Rome on their feet, calling for Angus to live. He and Tristan had played the crowd well. Everyone knew they were friends and that they wouldn’t kill each other, but the people came to the arena to see a show, and they expected to get one.
It was all up to Crispus now. He could give the thumbs up or thumbs down, and the fate of a man’s life would be decided.
“What shall I call for?” Crispus looked back to Septima.
He’s going to let that bitch decide?
Valeria couldn’t stand for that. “You should call for what the crowd wants!” She jumped up from her seat.
Anger and fear swelled in her, turning her stomach into a bundle of anxious nerves. She looked down into the arena, at Tristan and Angus, both staring up at Crispus, Angus with his two fingers held up for mercy, and Tristan with the sword held at his throat. The tragic picture they made almost stopped her heart. They had to live.
“What care do I have either way?” Septima said. “Atilla is the only gladiator of worth.”
Valeria turned pleading eyes on her cousin. “Let him live.”
Gaius grunted his disapproval. “Those scum were responsible for the attack on the wall, and they held Valeria captive. I see no reason for you to be lenient.”
Valeria wanted to choke the bastard. “Those men have proven themselves in the arena. They deserve a fair chance.”
“They aren’t men,” Gaius argued back. “They’re slaves.”
Gladiator Heart Page 21