Seduced by the Gladiator(78)

Though I certainly did not have to offer, though she and her baby might prove to be a hindrance, I found that I could not do anything but protect the young girl.

I eyed the pouch of coin that Marcus had handed to Christus. I could not judge exactly the amount of the denarii inside, but the weight looked to be enough to hold us until we got on our feet. “At the very worst, you will return with us to the house of our dominus. He is a kind enough man. He will not bother you with his cock.”

Instead of appearing scandalized by my words, Viola considered, then nodded. “Then it shall be a good sight better than my position here.”

I hesitated; I did not know if it was my place to speak of such things, for I did not have much knowledge of female things. Before I could even open my mouth, she guessed what I was about to say and shook her head.

“No matter how this child was conceived, he is mine.” She hugged her arms tightly around her belly. “And with the character of his father inside of him, he will need me all the more.”

How had I ever thought the girl timid? She was a lion, not a mouse. Before I could tell her such, Christus gestured to us, and we crossed to where the men stood.

“We will accompany you to the inn.” Caius gestured to the door. “And then we have done all that we can do. We have a wife at home, and an infant daughter. We must return to them.”

Marcus wrapped his arm around Caius as he spoke, and they shared the kind of glance that a married couple might have done. I thought that I had seen many things in my years as a slave, but I felt my mouth fall open a bit as I realized what was implied.

Alba, first wife of Lucius, was alive. Caius and Marcus and Alba and their daughter—they were all a family. They had found a way to be together.

I looked at Christus, who congratulated his brothers on their progeny. Then I looked at Viola, and felt the wave of fierce protectiveness that I had had the first moment that I looked at her.

Stranger situations than ours could be resolved, it seemed.

For the first time since before I had set foot in the arena, I had hope.





CHAPTER FOURTEEN




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Caius and Marcus led us to the inn at which they had left their message for the emperor. They had chosen it for the simple fact that it stood beside another inn, one with large windows through which we could easily watch the comings and goings outside.

I felt a pang of nerves when they left us, leaving for their home by the sea, where their wife, Alba, and their baby daughter, Felicia, waited for them.

Without them, two freedmen, we were but a trio of escaped slaves who had no business walking free.

It was better than being trapped in the arena.

We received several odd looks as we entered the inn. Roman sumptuary laws decreed that people had to dress so that their place in society was easily recognizable. Though we had all shed our bloody clothing, we had had to make do with items found in the home of Gaius. All that there was to be had were tunics that obviously belonged to slaves, and togas that were far fancier than anything the three of us should be wearing.

We could not dress as slaves, for surely curious soldiers would stop and question us. But neither were any of us able to pass as the extremely wealthy patricians that our pillaged finery said that we were.

Christus looked far too fierce, and I did not hold my head high, as a wealthy patrician woman should.

I was, after all, trying to keep from being recognized as the only female gladiator that Rome had known in recent times.

As for Viola, a patrician woman in her advanced stage of pregnancy would not be looking for a room at an inn—she would be lying abed, with servants bringing her fresh fruit and massaging her temple with oils.

Still, with a look that an opponent in the arena would have trembled at and the sly exchange of extra denarii, Christus managed to secure two rooms that were next to each other, and to ensure that we would be left alone once jugs of water and a simple meal had been delivered. I had thought that Viola would not wish to be alone after the trials that she had been through that day, but she had cast a look that was far too knowing for her age at the way Christus’ hand lingered on my own. She had insisted that she would prefer a separate chamber, if we had the coin for it.

“I wish simply to sleep.” Her voice was quiet and apologetic, and her hand rubbed over her belly fretfully as she spoke. I would not have been able to deny the poor girl anything at that moment, and had made certain that she was comfortable in her room, with food and water nearby.

“You will be right through that wall, that one there.” Gesturing, Viola motioned for me to leave, after I had washed the youthful curves of her face with a damp rag. “Now go to your lover. It is where you want to be.”