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Marcus

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by Nhys Glover




  Gladiator 5: MARCUS

  An Ancient Roman Reverse Harem Romance

  Nhys Glover

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. With the exception of historical events and people used as background for the story, or those clearly in the public domain, the names, characters and incidents portrayed in this work come wholly from the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental

  Published by Belisama Press

  © Nhys Glover 2018

  The right of Nhys Glover to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  This book is copyright. All rights reserved.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please delete it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  .

  OTHER BOOKS BY NHYS GLOVER

  ANCIENT ROMAN HISTORICAL ROMANCES:

  Liquid Fire

  The Barbarian's Mistress

  Lionslayer's Woman (Sequel to Liquid Fire)

  White Raven's Lover (Sequel to Barbarian's Mistress)

  The Gladiator's Bride (Sequel to White Raven's Lover)

  WEREWOLF KEEP TRILOGY:

  Guardian of Werewolf Keep

  Imprisoned at Werewolf Keep

  Defiance at Werewolf Keep

  Insane (A novella)

  NEW ATLANTIS TIME TRAVEL SERIES:

  Nine Lives (Cara/Jac)

  The Dreamer's Prince (Jane/Julio)

  Savage (Faith/ Luke)

  Shared Soul (Maggie/Travis)

  Bitter Oath (Liv/ Rene)

  The Titan Drowns (Eilish/Max, Karl/Lizzie, Pia/Marco)

  The Key (Kat/Bart)

  Pieces (Krista/Dirk)

  Second Chance (Bree/Hakon)

  Watcher (Jin/Rafe)

  Vision of You (Ellen/Duke)

  Osiris (Takhara/Dan)

  Causality (Willow/Jarvidh)

  Gods of Time (Teagan/Jason, Lucien/Alba)

  Book of Seeds (Shay/Cy)

  SCORPIO SONS SF/SHIFTER ROMANCE SERIES:

  1: Colton 2: Connor 3: Cooper 4: Chase

  5: Cameron 6: Caleb 7: Conrad 8: Charles

  REVERSE HAREM FANTASIES:

  THE AIRLUDS TRILOGY:

  The Sacrifice

  The Chosen One

  Goddess Unbound

  THE AIRSHAN CHRONICLES

  The Five

  Daemon

  The Devourer

  GLADIATOR

  1. Typhon 2. Asterius 3. Talos 4. Orion 5.Marcus

  OTHERS:

  The Way Home (Ghost Romance)

  Caught in a Dream (SF Sweet Romance)

  Labyrinth of Light (New Age Inspirational)

  Find out more about Nhys and her books here:

  www.nhysglover.com

  Chapter One

  February 65 CE Colonia Claudia Victricensis BRITANNIA

  MARCUS

  I sat studying the plans for the city wall that would surround Colonia Claudia Victricensis, or Camulodunum as it was more often called. It was a challenge, and I loved challenges. Up until I was assigned the task of building the wall I would have denied I had either an interest in, or an affinity for, engineering. But my education had been comprehensive, thanks to my Greek tutor, so I knew more about Rome’s many architectural and engineering feats than most people.

  And the reality was, war was not for me. I was no coward, I had proven that to myself often enough in Magna Germania. But the brutality of it had turned my stomach. So remaining in the legions, as an engineer rather than a warrior, had seemed the best career choice for me until my service was over and I could return to my old life.

  When the project had come up in Britannia, I had requested a transfer. It was granted a little too quickly for my taste, but I was still glad to be gone.

  Not that Britannia was free of war or brutality. It was not. Only a few years ago the tribes here had rebelled after the governor of the time made some monumental errors. Boudicea, the queen of the Iceni, had destroyed Camulodunum, Verulamium and Londinium, and somewhere between sixty to eighty thousand Romans and Celts were killed before Suetonius quelled the uprising and returned order.

  Personally, except for the trade advantages this island provided, I did not understand why we sought to claim it. The incessant rain and cold made it very unpleasant.

  “Natalinus, sir?” a low timbred voice said deferentially... no, respectfully.

  Phaedrus was never deferential. He might be a slave, but his innate self-confidence meant he saw himself as equal to any man, no matter what society determined.

  My heart beat a little louder in my chest. Marcus Trebellium Maximus’ chief slave administrator had the ability to turn me into a babbling fool. Or slack-jawed, untried youth. And, as I had only reached adulthood a few years ago, it irked me to be thrown back into the past so forcefully. But love could do that to a man.

  Back when I was very young I had been in love with four young men. Four young slaves. They were called the Wolf Pack and were envied and admired by all who were not jealous of their abilities. I had been a broken lad of nine when I found myself in the Spartan training facility for gladiators those boys called home. My pater had been horrified by my womanish ways and was determined to make a man out of me.

  It was an extreme measure that would have backfired on him had it not been for the Wolf Pack. After I had been bullied, beaten and raped by older boys in the first few weeks, I was lucky enough to come to the attention of the pack. They saw something in me that I did not see in myself. They adopted me, thereby shielding me from further harm. From that point on, life in the barracks became bearable. And I found idols to worship and model myself after.

  A year later, Pater decided I had learned my lesson, and I was returned to my home. Pater’s purpose had been achieved. In one sense, at least. The pack had given me a belief in myself and my abilities. They had even taught me how to fight. I doubt I would have survived my compulsory military service if not for them.

  When the daughter of the man who owned the barracks was also befriended by the Wolf Pack a bond developed between us. We understood each other in ways others could not because we were like mirror images of each other. Ennia was the same age as I was and looked enough like me to be my sister. But where she was a girl who would have been happier as a boy, I was a boy who would have been happier as a girl. Our mutual passion for the Wolf Pack was the point where we merged.

  My youthful fantasies about the pack had long since died, leaving only affection. Now I had replaced one impossible love interest with another. I could no more love and be loved by the handsome, debonair Phaedrus as I could the boys of the pack.

  The only problem was that my heart did not understand what my head did. Even if the utterly delicious Phaedrus had been interested in me, nothing could come of it. He was another man’s slave. And another man’s lover, if I was not mistaken.

  Trebellium, was the first governor of this island who was not also a military man. It was believed that a non-fighting man might do more by diplomacy than war with the subdued tribes, a notion I was in full agreement with. And it seemed that decision had proven a wise one.

  His diplomacy and discretion were not just reserved for his role as governor. It spread into his private life. Because he was married and had children back in Rome, the close bond he shared with his slave and chief administrator was said to be only platonic. If the two men spent a great deal
of time together, it was only to be expected, given the scope of the governor’s duties. Not a word was breathed of a possible liaison between the men.

  But I had seen the way the governor looked at Phaedrus, which was probably the way I looked at the handsome man, much to my shame. But where the governor could make use of his slave any way he chose, because he was his property, I could not.

  Do not misunderstand, I am no untried youth. At least, with males. I will eternally remain untried with the fairer sex. Though Pater has assured me I would be able to find pleasure with a woman if I gave myself the chance, the very idea leaves me... limp. Can I put it any plainer than that?

  Pater thought he knew me. Over the years he himself had happily taken both his male and female slaves to his bed. And, growing up, I had often wondered if he might secretly be in love with his best friend, Ennius Corvus, Ennia’s father. But to Pater sexual pleasure could be achieved many ways, and he had experimented with them all. He thought I would be the same.

  I was not. Especially where women and slaves were concerned. Women I had no interest in. Slaves I kept away from for moral reasons, I suppose you could say. After my experience in the barracks, I knew what it was like to be taken against my will. So I was sensitive to the feelings of the slaves of our household. I saw the empty eyes of both the males and females Pater took his pleasure with. I understood and felt for every one of them.

  So, somewhere along the way, I decided I would never use a slave of mine that way. No matter how accepting they seemed to be with the situation, I would not take what they felt they could not refuse to give.

  Therefore, even if Phaedrus was not the governor’s slave and lover, I could not become involved with him. I did not share pleasure with slaves.

  When I told Ennia my choices, she pointed out that the whores I took to my bed were likely slaves forced to sell their bodies as their masters dictated. After that insight, I had become more selective with my partners. I chose freedmen who sold their services, and for a while before leaving for my military service I kept a boy a few years younger than me. That boy liked the good things I could provide: a domus, fine clothes, slaves of his own. He had used me as much as I used him. My heart was never involved, though. Not after the Wolf Pack. Not until now.

  “Yes?” I managed to get out, looking up from the plans in front of me.

  I felt my cheeks heat as Phaedrus took me in. He was a tallish, slim man with aquiline features and a high brow. His short, dark hair had a slight curl to it that I found endearing. His sloe-eyes were a warm brown, and his lashes were lush and black, as if he used kohl on them. His mouth, which had featured too often in my fantasies and dreams, was neither full nor narrow, but had a way of opening just enough to show strong white teeth whenever he was in repose. It was like he had a permanent smile on his face.

  Long elegant hands held out a scroll to me. I took it, hoping my own hands did not shake.

  “Who sent this?” I asked, without looking at the seal.

  “Your father, sir. It arrived by military courier not long ago. I offered to deliver it personally.”

  Was there something flirtatious about the way he said personally? Was he flirting with me?

  Gods, I hated this! I had no time for another case of unrequited love.

  “Thank you,” I replied gruffly, not meeting the slave’s eyes.

  I noted Pater’s seal, which I should have seen as soon as it was handed to me, and blushed again. I was a wool-brained fool.

  I slit the seal and opened the scroll, aware that Phaedrus had not left. He was staring down at me with concern on his expressive face.

  I scanned the contents quickly, noting several documents with the first. My heart sank in my chest.

  Gods, no! This was too much, even for Pater.

  “What is it, Marcus?” Phaedrus asked, concern in his voice this time. I barely noticed his use of my praenomen, which was reserved for family and close friends.

  I looked up at him, panic rising inside me. “Pater has sent me a marriage contract. I am to marry Ennia Corva as soon as she arrives here.”

  Phaedrus sat down in the chair across from me, his face serious. “And you do not care for this young woman?”

  “Of course I care for her. She is probably my closest friend. But that is all she is. My friend. I have no desire to marry her, even though our fathers have spoken of it many times.”

  “Marriages are contracted between couples with less affection than you hold for her,” Phaedrus pointed out.

  I threw down the papyrus furiously. “Do you not understand? I am not a man who... I do not... Oh, it does not matter!”

  Why I could not put into words my sexual preferences I do not know. Maybe I worried the brilliant and sensitive man before me might think less of me for it. If he was forced to share his master’s bed, he might consider all men who desire other men were like him.

  Phaedrus reached across the desk and placed a hand on mine. I stilled instantly, my heart beating frantically in my chest, my cock rising to attention. Thank the gods there was a desk between us.

  “It does matter. Whatever upsets you like this does matter. To me.”

  I had worked with this man every day for three months. I knew the sound of his voice, the way a room became charged as he entered it. I thought I knew every expression that crossed his face. But this floored me.

  “I... I do not understand,” I stammered out.

  Phaedrus looked at me as if I was a particularly stupid child. “What do you not understand? That it matters to me when you are upset? That I want to slay your monsters for you. That I want to kiss away your tears... What do you not understand, Marcus?” He crooned my name like a prayer, soft and wistfully.

  My mouth fell open. This could not be happening. “I... I do not cry,” was the only thought that I could give voice to.

  The concern on his handsome face became even more intense. “That is very sad. You do not always have to use humour to hide behind, you know. It is all right to be... you.”

  I tried to think. But the double shock of finding out I was to marry and that Phaedrus cared about me had me befuddled and a little light-headed.

  “May I?” Phaedrus indicated the documents I had dropped on top of the plans.

  I nodded. He took them up and scanned them quickly.

  “These are manumission papers.” He separated four documents from the rest.

  I nodded. He put them aside to read on.

  “Oh, the poor girl. Kidnapped by Parthians and her father dying. Or dead. He must now be dead. That would be too much for any gently born noblewoman to bear.”

  This I could talk about. This made sense. “Ennia is not like any gentle woman you may have met. When her father was away over the warmer months, she dressed as a slave boy, cut her hair short, and trained as a physician. When she was only twelve years old she operated on one of the Wolf Pack, stood up to my father by insisting he remove a mad doctores from the barracks, and raced across the mountains with an old slave as her only companion to save that same boy when the madman went after him again. Then she tried to help victims of the fire in Rome last year, only to end up buried alive beneath a collapsed building for five days. This is no ordinary girl. And most definitely not an ordinary patrician.”

  My voice held all the warmth and affection I felt for my remarkable friend. When I looked at Phaedrus I saw a strange expression in his eyes. Envy? Jealousy?

  “I wish you could speak of me as you speak of her. It seems your father has chosen well for you. This girl is perfect for you,” he said, his voice gravelled. Was there colour in his cheeks?

  “I... I would speak of you that way if someone were to ask me.” I paused, reconsidering that rash answer. “No... No, I probably would not,” I finally admitted.

  The disappointment and pain I thought I saw cross Phaedrus’ face had me rushing to explain. “I would want to speak that way. Because you are just as remarkable as Ennia. Why, the work you do here is incredible. How you
keep it all in your head, and handle all the different and often conflicting personalities as you do... It is... Well, I would talk like that if... Well, if it were possible,” I finished lamely.

  He lifted his head, and I thought I saw tears gleaming in those thick lashes. “Yes... If it were possible. I am, after all, nothing more than a slave. While you are a patrician of the equestrian class. You are an officer in the imperial legions.”

  I blinked several times, trying to understand his meaning. Did he think I considered him less because he was a slave? This man, who always behaved as if he was everyone’s equal? This mature, worldly, brilliant man?

  “You are the lover of my superior. It would be unwise of me to speak too glowingly about you,” I finally got out.

  “Ah, I see,” Phaedrus said sadly, rising and turning for the door.

  He must have forgotten he was still holding my documents because he turned back and laid them gently on the desk. “I think this girl will make a good wife for you, sir. If she survives her kidnapping.”

  “The Wolf Pack have gone after her. They will rescue her and bring her to me. I have no doubt. Neither did Ennia’s father. That is why Corvus included their manumission documents. He knew they would succeed and wanted them properly recompensed.”

  “You have spoken of them before. You hold those slaves in high regard...”

  With that the man I had somehow given my heart to left the room. And left me behind, confused and hurting, unable to think of what to do about any of it.

  Chapter Two

  March 65 CE Ephesus

 

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