Seduced by the Gladiator(54)

“You stupid, stupid man.” I saw his fists clench at my words, his knuckles turning white as his nails bit into his palms. Bavarius was never overly confident in himself, this I knew—it was why he was forever struggling to dominate those around him. He did not like insults.

I did not care.

“Do you not understand?” Making sure that my movements were deliberately calm, I sat on the bench facing Bavarius, folding my hands in my lap neatly. Christus sat beside me, his face as if carved from stone.

“Gaius promised that you would win—he promised you fame throughout the Empire, wine, women, and wealth. He might have been truthful; he might not. But look around you, Bavarius.” I gestured widely to the men that he had cheated. “He did not promise you freedom, did he? You will still have to return here. And then you will have to contend with the anger of these men, and though I might be generalizing, not a one of them looks very happy with you.”

At that moment, as one of the soldiers gave a yell, and the carpentum began to move, Bavarius did not look very happy himself.

It was a small victory, but one that sustained me for the duration of the ride to the arena.



I thought that Gaius should count himself a lucky man in the morning, if any of his chosen gladiators were still alive to participate in his cursed games.

Whatever had possessed him to place thirty some men—two from each ludus—Rome’s most revered fighters, in a room together had to have taken leave of his senses. The tension in the small holding chamber was so thick that it left a taste on my tongue.

“Perhaps the man is stupid, after all.” Christus and I sat in a corner of the small stone room, our backs pressed against the chill of the wall. We were careful not to touch, not to display affection in any way, for we did not know how the others would react to our bond.

Likely Bavarius had told them anyway. I now understood that we had not been as secretive as we had imagined. The dominus had known, and the likeliest candidate to have told him was my enemy.

However they had found out, we were getting more stares than the others in the room combined.

“Gaius does nothing by chance.” I did not know the man well, but everything about him spoke of slow, methodical preparation. There was a reason that he had put us all together, where we had nothing to do but study the faces, the sizes of those we were meant to kill.

Some I had met in the arena, in matches where both of our lives had been spared. Others I knew by reputation alone. All were strong, all were well trained. If I were to meet one of them on the sands of the arena, I felt certain that I would triumph, for I always had an edge—I was always underestimated because of my size and my sex.

But all of them, together . . .

Fear was a tangible thing.

That was likely what the entire point of the exercise was. Gaius wanted us to feel fear. It would heighten the excitement of the crowd, which would in turn lead them to view him more favorably.

“Why do you think that Gaius is holding these games?” My voice was low, meant for Christus’ ears only. “He said that he has plans. But what are they? Does he plan to run for office?”

“That is my thought, but I do not understand why.” Christus stroked his fingers over the prickle of beard that shadowed his chin. “As brother of the emperor, his place in life is ensured. He has no need to hold public office.”

On this point I thoroughly agreed. Again, I reflected that Gaius did not do things by chance. There was a reason, one that we would find out soon, I was certain.

From above, a great noise, louder than thunder when it cracked across the sky, startled the stillness from the room. With cries ranging from shock to blood lust, those of us in the room stood if we were seated and pressed our backs to the wall if they were not already, instinct taking over.

All heads turned up, squinting through the dim light, trying to see what was happening.

Rock scraped over rock, the sounds painful to the ears, as the ceiling to the chamber where we all stood slid away. The light in the room brightened, then wavered.

I noticed that Bavarius was cowering behind a larger man, fear evident on his face. I could do naught but shake my head.

I heard it before I saw it, the gurgle of flowing water. Great streams of it flooded into the room from above, soaking us all, unannounced.

I gasped at the chill—the water was as cold as anything I had ever felt. The great streams continued, until my leathers were dripping, and my hair lay flat on my head.

Christus held tightly to my hand as the wet streamed over us, making sure that we were not separated, and he sputtered as much as I.

Slowly, the flooding ceased, dwindling to small trickles that danced down the walls of rock like snakes. Around me men shook like dogs, drying water from their eyes, their ears, cursing all the while.