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“You want him, no?”
“Of course, but that isn’t the issue. I have nowhere to keep him. I only wanted your gladiators to stop hurting him.”
The hopeful light in her eyes encouraged him. “We’ll work out the arrangements later. For now, the editor is coming this way. Let me negotiate with him while I have the chance. He’s a cur who’s quick to take advantage of any situation. If you want to help this animal and keep your identity a secret, hide your face and stand behind me. Try not to draw undue attention to yourself.”
Tibi’s mouth twisted with unasked questions, but she hurried to hand him the cub. Her cowl had slipped and she made quick work of readjusting the gray wool to completely conceal her distinctive hair and features.
“Greetings, Alexius,” Spurius called, his legendary girth making for slow progress down the hay-strewn path. “I’ve gone over the day’s proceedings with Darius. Your troupe is scheduled for battle within the hour. I’ll leave it to him to fill you in on the details.”
“They’re ready,” he said with a confidence born from experience.
“They always are,” agreed Spurius, as he came to a stop an arm’s length away. “Of course, it’s you the mob comes to see. What do you have there?”
“A runt Gerlach found in the hay. Apparently, its mother died in the ring this morning. How much do you want for it?”
“No,” Spurius said, gasping to catch his breath. “I mean, who do you have there?” He pointed a knobby finger over Alexius’s shoulder.
Alexius grinned to hide his rising tension. “No one of importance.”
“What a pity. She’s tall enough to be an Amazone. I let myself hope you’d trained a gladiatrix to fight as a gift for the crowd.”
“No, but I might consider it,” he said, careful to sound intrigued, since women were a favored spectacle in the arena, although they were few and far between. “About the runt—”
“If she’s not here to fight, is she your new woman or just a slave…or both? From what I saw of her at a distance, she’s a beauty. Let me have a better look.”
“There’s no need for that,” he said amicably. The whoosh of the bellows nearby filled Spurius’s surprised silence.
“Come now,” the editor cajoled. “Perhaps we can make a bargain. I’ll trade you the runt for the girl.”
“Another day and I might take you up on the offer.”
Tibi gasped and thumped him on the back. He coughed to smother his laugh at her reaction, pleased that she wasn’t cowed by the situation. “Unfortunately, she’s not mine to trade. Besides, you wouldn’t want this particular wench. She’s nothing but sass and vinegar.”
“A saucy one, eh? That’s often the best kind.” The editor eyed him. “If she’s not yours, then who does she belong to?”
“She’s a freewoman brought here by mistake.”
“Her father?”
Alexius shrugged.
“Let me guess,” continued Spurius. “You’ve convinced the poor girl you’ll protect her honor.”
Alexius’s eyes narrowed at the underlying insinuation that no woman was safe with him. “Indeed I have. How perceptive of you.”
The editor burst out laughing, as though the idea was one of pure comedy. “She must be a foreigner and unaware of your…colorful reputation, then.” He strained sideways as though to speak directly to Tibi. “Be warned, girl. If the gossips see you with this great Greek bull, they’ll make certain you have no honor left to worry about.”
Bitterness welled up inside Alexius. His free hand clenched into a fist at his side. Tibi gripped the back of his tunic between his shoulder blades. “Don’t,” she whispered for his ears only. “Please don’t. He’s not worth your anger.”
“Perhaps I’m such a prize she doesn’t care,” he said, his tone rich with irony. He reached into the leather pouch attached to his belt and tossed Spurius a handful of copper as. “For the cub.”
The editor’s laughter subsided as he did a quick count of the coins. “I didn’t name a price.”
“I chose it for you.” He gripped Tibi’s wrist behind him, eager to leave when each moment added to the chance of her discovery. “Darius will lead the men of the Ludus Maximus this afternoon. I have business elsewhere.”
“What do you mean Darius will lead the men?” Spurius sobered in an instant. “You’re on the roster. You never miss a fight. The mob comes to see you. They’ll riot if you don’t appear.”
Alexius shrugged. All of Rome could be sacked today and he wouldn’t leave Tibi’s side again. “Then let them.” His full lips quirked. “I have a new…cub to look after.”
Tibi resisted the impulse to glance over her shoulder as Alexius propelled her toward the exit. Amazed that he’d left as important a man as the editor to sputter like a clogged drain, she kept her head down and shielded the cub that squirmed in her hand and licked her thumb with its rough tongue.
“Where are we going?” she asked as they entered a torch-lit corridor that had been chiseled from the earth and edged with flat stones.
“To the stables to fetch my horse.”
“And then?”
“Back to the ludus.”
“What if Tiberia is still looking for me?”
“It’s doubtful. Velus views strangers as though they’re hornets come to sting. I expect he’s sent the whole lot of them on their way by now.”
His lack of complete certainty renewed her anxiety, but she accepted the situation without further comment. She’d done all she could to buy herself time when she fled her father’s home. Either Tiberia was at the ludus or she was not, but given her sister’s tenacity, it wouldn’t surprise her if Tiberia decided to wait at the Ludus Maximus all afternoon. There was no way to know until they arrived and learned the truth one way or the other. Her future belonged to the Fates.
Considering the circumstances, the fact that she’d enjoyed even the smallest respite from her worries was a wonder due entirely to Alexius, she acknowledged with a frown. Whenever he was near, she had difficulty thinking of anything but him. Troubled by such an unwelcome reality, she took a deep breath to clear her head.
The mustiness of the tunnel mixed with the faint smell of hay the closer they climbed to the surface and the stable at ground level. “If I were to guess,” she said, trying to lighten the atmosphere between them. “I’d say you have a black stallion—maybe one of Caros’s Iberian champions—with a gleaming saddle and—”
“Wings?”
“You are Greek.” She laughed. “Wouldn’t it be a delight to have a pterippus like the Pegasus?” she added fancifully. “If I had a winged horse to do my bidding, I’d have it take me far from Rome.”
“Rome? Or just your father?”
She stroked the top of the cub’s smooth head and pretended a keen interest in the path’s dirt-packed floor. “Mostly my father. Although, I must admit, a fresh start far from the city’s gossips and expectations holds almost as much appeal.”
“You must visit your cousins in Umbria someday,” he said, leading her up the final stretch of stairs.
“I have. Once, two years ago I was invited to join the party when Tiberia and her husband sojourned with them in Iguvium for the summer. Truthfully, I’ve never seen a more beauteous place. It’s no surprise their friends Quintus and Adiona bought their own villa and vineyards nearby. I understand you have a farm there as well.”
He nodded.
“Your trainer, Darius, said your description of the area has given him the hope of settling his family there someday.”
“Yes, on its worst day Iguvium is far better than Rome on its best.”
“Then why do you stay here when it’s clear your heart is elsewhere?”
He opened the door without answering and waited for her to precede him through what appeared to be the back entrance of the busy stable. The strong odors of horseflesh and leather overpowered the rectangular space constructed of stone and rough-hewn timbers. Stable hands filled troughs with buckets of water. Horses, crowded into stalls lining both walls and the center of the long hay-covered floor, ate from feed bags or flipped their tails to clear the air of flies.
“Wait here,” Alexius said tersely.
As she idly petted the drowsing panther cub in her arms, she watched Alexius from beneath lowered lashes while he conversed with one of the Egyptian stable hands. It was widely known that women flocked to Alexius and after less than a day with him she understood why. Tall and broad-shouldered, he was not only physically arresting but possessed an inborn strength that was both undeniable and irresistible.
She leaned against the wall of the tack room and closed her tired eyes. Judging by his sharp tone when he left to seek out the groom, she’d somehow offended him with her chatter. Leave it to her to annoy a male renowned for his tolerance and good humor—at least outside of a fight. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be the first time she was deemed too inquisitive when she was simply trying to make conversation, but it was the first time she wished she’d learned the art of acting serene and mysterious like her sister. If her experience with men held true, Alexius would want nothing else to do with her or, as it must seem to him, her talent for asking inappropriate questions.
In all likelihood, he regretted his decision to help her. Who wouldn’t? In less than a day, he’d been forced to deceive her family, fight his own men to protect her, spend coin on an animal he considered useless and break a contract to fight in the arena. Once Pelonia and Caros returned to Rome, he’d hand her over, glad to be finished with her and the trouble that constantly plagued her.
Unexpectedly bereft, she cursed the foolish delight she experienced only in Alexius’s presence. Somehow she had to resist the numerous ways she found him appealing. Her father would never accept a gladiator for a son-in-law, nor would Alexius ever consent to marry her. His respect for Caros had prompted him to assist her, nothing more. There could be no other reason. Alexius was a wealthy, handsome man of the world known to have any woman he wanted, whereas she was a reviled second daughter without even beauty to offer.
A horse in the closest stall whinnied near her ear, startling her out of her musings. Alexius paid the stable boy then motioned for her to join him halfway up the aisle.
“Is all well?” she asked.
He reached out and ran a gentle index finger along the cub’s silky back. “We’re to meet Ptah near the entrance. If the need arises we’ll have to share my mount, Calisto. I sought to hire a mare for you, but the games’ crowd is considerable today and there are no extra horses on hand.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, aware that most of the reason for the large show of spectators was due to Alexius’s place on the roster. And now he wouldn’t be there because of her. “Please don’t think your kindness to me has gone unnoticed. I plan to repay—”
He held up a bronzed, battle-scarred hand to quiet her. “I seek no repayment, except your goodwill. I told you this morning, I like being with you.”
Tibi’s heart danced in her chest. A strange weakness entered her knees, challenging her ability to walk as she fell into step beside him. “I assumed you were being polite—”
“Polite?” He laughed.
“Yes, polite.” She frowned up at him. “I realize you’re helping me because of your friendship with Caros. After what you’ve endured…and lost because of me today, you deserve compensation.”
“What exactly have I lost?”
“Your place on the field for one.”
“Maybe I consider today a gain.” He gave her a wolfish smile that was wholly unfamiliar to her experience. “What would you say then?”
Her face heated and her mouth ran dry. “I…I have money in my satchel back at the ludus.”
His burst of laughter startled a trio of tethered horses. “Keep your coin, my lady. I have no need of it. Nor do I want it.”
“But—”
“Cease or you’ll offend me.”
She glanced at him covertly. “I thought I already had.”
“Already had what?”
“Offended you,” she said over the rising babble of patrons gathered around the arched entranceway.
“How so? Nothing you do bothers me.”
She blinked in disbelief. Since the day of her birth she’d been told in word and deed that she was an unwanted irritant. If not for his earnest expression, she might have thought he was teasing with her again. “Before… When I asked why you stay in Rome.”
His expression soured. “That has nothing to do with you. Let’s not speak of the matter.”
She let the subject drop, although her curiosity gnawed at her. It was obvious that she’d struck upon at least one topic that vexed him.
“There’s Calisto.”
Hearing the pride in his voice, she turned her head to see Ptah leading a magnificent gray stallion, its flowing mane and tail the color of glossy obsidian. Like his master, Calisto walked tall, his head held high, clearly used to being admired by all who saw him.
“He’s spectacular, Alexius. Perfect.”
“Yes, you barely miss the wings.”
The humor in his silver eyes was infectious. “Don’t be concerned. I won’t hold that against him.”
Alexius collected the reins from Ptah and stroked Calisto’s silken muzzle and forehead. In his native Greek, he greeted the horse like an old friend.
“Let’s be on our way.” He tugged Tibi’s cowl forward. The feather-soft touch of his fingers along her cheek as he tucked a fallen strand of hair beneath the garment sent pleasant sparks across her skin. Her pulse spiked and her startled gaze locked with the liquid silver of his. All the noise and activity swirling through the stable faded away until only Alexius existed.
“Master…?” Ptah approached, breaking their connection. “Is there a problem? Can I help you?”
Alexius groaned and closed his eyes before turning around to address the boy. Released from her stasis, Tibi spun away, grateful for Calisto’s tall form to lean against for support. Trembling, her entire body felt feverish, despite the cool spring breeze blowing through the open windows.
The cub whimpered and squirmed in her grasp. Appalled that she’d forgotten not only herself, but the little animal in her care, she loosened her hold, murmuring words of comfort in an effort to soothe him while she gathered her scattered wits.
What was wrong with her? Had she contracted some sort of sickness?
Alexius moved behind her. She held her breath in anticipation of his touch. When his large hands finally settled on her shoulders, she almost collapsed from relief. His warm breath feathered across the sensitive shell of her ear. “You’re not alone, little one. I feel the madness, too.”
Her head fell forward to rest on Calisto’s saddle blanket. She closed her eyes, desperate to understand her wildly off-kilter emotions and her even more foolish wish to believe the madness he spoke of was something as special as what she felt for him. “You do?”
“Yes…but I should know better.” He eased her back against his broad chest. His lips pressed a soft kiss on the top of her head. “Gods help me. What am I going to do with you?”
Chapter Four
Still reeling from Alexius’s confession, Tibi allowed him to lead her and Calisto from the stable without another word. The design of his saddle, with a pommel at each of the four corners, made riding two people an uncomfortable prospect. Tibi didn’t mind walking. She desperately needed a bit of space between her and Alexius to clear her head. The thought of clinging to him for balance while she held the cub and rode in full view above the crowd seemed disasterous.
Outside, the day’s aromas and sounds assaulted her senses. The bright sun of midafternoon nearly blinded her after the many hours of dim light in the amphitheater’s lower levels. Heavy aromas of smoked fish, roasted nuts and fresh bread woke her hungry stomach.
The thick flow of people coming and going from the entrances of the gleaming white Coliseum surrounded them like a river, threatening to sweep them away. Alexius tightened his grip on her hand and navigated the shifting current with a single-minded purpose that must serve him well in the arena, Tibi acknowledged.
Careful to keep her face concealed, but her view unobstructed lest she trip or knock someone over, she adjusted her woolen hood. A row of makeshift stalls lined the busy circuit around the amphitheater. Hawkers did their best to tempt customers to stop and look at their wares—everything from leather goods to the freshest produce the season had to offer.
However, it wasn’t the food and supplies that drew the most notice. It was Alexius. All bronzed skin and sinewy muscle, he stood head and shoulders above the crowd, as perfect to look upon as a masterwork of Greek statuary. Young and old alike stopped to stare at him. Some watched slack-jawed while others jabbed their friends with their elbows and pointed with various levels of discretion. It wasn’t long before a path cleared, sidelined by an inquisitive horde that obviously held a gladiator of his skill in high regard. Alexius used the opportunity to move quickly, his only acknowledgment of the attention a quick wave or nod when someone bold enough called his name.
Several streets away, Rome’s central region gave way to one of the city’s more peaceful areas. Narrow alleyways led to wide-open squares where the elderly chatted around sculpted fountains and energetic children played knucklebones, chased one another or tossed sticks for their dogs to fetch.
The smoke from cooking fires and the aroma of roasted meats tinged the air. Not for the first time, Tibi’s stomach growled. Hoping Alexius didn’t hear its protests, she raised her face to soak in the warmth of the sun peeking through the rainbow of laundry strung between multistory apartment blocks. She inhaled the fresh scent of herbs growing in clay pots on each side of the footpath and listened to the even gait of Calisto’s hooves on the pavers.
