'Bato?' she called. Nothing.
Julia swung her feet over the side of the bed and checked the small room. No dog. She frowned and tried to think how he could have escaped. Surely, the window was too high and narrow to escape that way, even if he had smelt food.
The door creaked on its hinges.
She passed a hand over her eyes and tugged her hair in frustration. The means of escape was all too clear. Her heart sank further as she thought of the kitchens. If he was caught stealing again…
Julia belted her undertunic with a narrow cord. There wasn't time to get fully dressed, not with the clanking she already heard. Hopefully, she'd find him before he got into any major mischief. |
'Bato? Here, boy,' she called as loudly as she dared.
She ran down the stairs and peeped into the large underground kitchen. Several rabbits hung on the far wall and a large piece of meat sat alongside an array of cakes and buns on the counter, waiting for the oven to get hot enough. No sign of the dog, just the back of the kitchen boy as he relit the stove. Julia let out a sigh of relief. Bato was safe from the cook.
Within a heartbeat, relief turned to panic. What if the dog had gone into the wrong bedroom? And licked Sabina's hand? Julia raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
Her hand twitched on her stepmother's door handle. Bato would never go in there. He had more sense than that, surely. Her stomach knotted.
She opened the door a crack.
All was peace with only the faint sounds of snores. She closed the door with a click, and tried to puzzle out where Bato could be.
The door to the guest bedroom lay slightly ajar. Julia's breath caught as she thought of the man lying asleep in there. What did he wear in bed—his tunic or nothing? Her fists clenched as she tried to rid her mind of the thought.
She placed her ear against the door, hesitating with her hand on the doorknob until she heard the telltale thump of Bato's tail.
She peered in and whispered. 'Bato. come here, boy.'
Bato looked at her from his place on the bottom of the bed, but refused to move.
Julia opened the door wider and snapped her fingers.
'Bato, now, come before the household wakes up.'
Bato stretched, leapt off the bed and started to move towards her, slowly.
Julia released her breath. Minerva was with her. She'd get Bato back to her room before anyone noticed…and provide an apology to Valens when she saw him later that day, should he mention it.
She screwed up her face. No doubt, he'd mention it in some sort of joke. Not content with leaving her flask behind, she had sent her dog as an excuse to get to know him better. Her cheeks burned.
'Come on, Bato,' she whispered as the dog stopped in the middle of an ornate bedside mat, sitting down to scratch his left ear.
He had to get out of there now!
Julia crouched low and started to crawl across the floor towards the dog, making soft encouraging sounds in the back of her throat as the skirt of her undertunic bunched up around her knees.
'Is there a problem?' Valens's low rumble resounded in her ears. 'I hope I haven't disturbed you.'
Julia froze, hand outstretched, knee on top of the central tiger motif on the mosaic-tiled floor. She glanced to her right and saw Valens standing, arms lifted as if he had been in the middle of an exercise session. If she had thought his tunic short yesterday, this one left little to the imagination.
And his feet were bare.
Her eyes traced the outline of his leg. The full length, from ankle to calf to thigh, was exposed. Her mouth went dry. Her heart started to thump in her ears as she realised her night-time imaginings had not been vivid enough. Reality was much more…
'No, no, you didn't disturb me,' she gasped out, thinking what a lie that was. Of course, he disturbed her. Even his scent— sandalwood and something else—this morning did strange things to her insides. 'My dog somehow seems to have ended up in your bed…I mean your room. I was trying to get him out.'
She scrambled to her feet, wishing she had more covering her body than her thin linen undertunic that she should have replaced a year ago and tried to smooth it lower. She should have thought about their guest, taken the time to get properly dressed, to do her hair and put her face on. There was nothing for it except to pretend she wasn't embarrassed. She lifted her chin.
'He came in during the night,' Valens said with a shrug, 'and went straight to sleep on the bed. I assumed it was where he always slept. The thought crossed my mind that this might be your room.'
At the sound of Valens's voice, Bato the traitor padded over to Valens and laid his head against his legs. Valens reached down and scratched behind Bato's ears.
'It's the guest bedroom. Mine is two doors down the corridor,' Julia said, forcing the words out as she stared at Bato and Valens, her attention caught by the way Valens's fingers stroked the dog's fur. 'I have no idea why he is behaving in such a fashion. Normally he is devoted to me and is very wary of men. He refuses to let my father touch him.'
'Perhaps he knows an animal lover when he sees one. The dog I had as a boy used to like his ears scratched in the same fashion.'
Again, their eyes met and held. Julia felt a curl of warmth start in her belly. She had to get away from here, or she'd end up in his arms, behaving like the worst female supporter and demanding he share her bed.
Some day when they met, she would be poised and not off balance. Right now, she was conscious of the cold stone from the mosaic floor against her bare feet, her hair falling to her shoulders, and the fact that her undertunic, despite her efforts, only reached her mid-calf.
She watched his fingers stroke Bato's ears in the same way a starving man watched his first meal in weeks being prepared. She dug her nails into her palms, attempting to rid her mind of the image of his long fingers touching her.
'I am terribly sorry about—' She gestured to Bato, who now lolled his head against Valens's leg.
'It's quite all right' His hand paused. His eyes stared straight into hers. 'Bato and I are friends. I enjoyed the company. Until I became a gladiator, I had a dog. It made a welcome change to have one sleeping at the bottom of the bed. I hadn't thought you'd be worried or I'd have sent him back to you.'
'I don't want Bato to make a nuisance of himself,' Julia said, snapping her fingers, hoping Bato would come to her so she could bury her burning cheeks into his soft fur. 'My stepmother is not overly fond of animals. She has threatened to send him away if he is caught doing anything untoward.'
Julia knew she ought to go. She ought to think of the scandal if she was caught in his bedroom dressed like this. No one, particularly not her father and stepmother, would accept the innocent explanation. It was an innocent explanation.
She had no desire to taste his mouth…
Her feet stayed rooted to the spot and her eyes refused to look anywhere except at his lips.
'That says it all,' Valens said. 'You can tell a lot about a person by the way they treat their animals.'
'I always think so.' She bent down and held out to her arms to Bato. 'I think this dog has bothered you enough. I don't want to impose.'
'He's welcome any time.' His voice dropped and his eyes seemed to imply there was something more.
Julia returned his smile and then shifted uneasily. Did he mean her as well as Bato? She smoothed a lock of hair back. She ought to go, but something held her there, pinned under his gaze. Her stomach knotted so much it hurt. She wanted the conversation to continue, but her words kept slipping away or else sounded inane. She refused to stand there like a mute gazing adoringly into a god's face.
'What are you doing up so early and dressed?' she blurted out, then wished she had kept silent. She turned her face towards the vine-leaf fresco so her blush was hidden. Always she said the wrong thing. She made it sound as if she expected to discover him naked!
'Training,' Valens said, withdrawing a royal blue wool cloak and a pair of sandals from his trunk. He fastened
the cloak around his neck and proceeded to tie his sandals, lacing them around his calves. 'The morning session begins at dawn, but I like to arrive early in order to stretch properly. I was about to leave when you opened the door.'
'Do you know the way to the front door?' she said impulsively.
Immediately she mentally groaned. How transparent. Less than a day since meeting this man she had started to throw herself at him. He was probably certain now she had sent Bato to him. He looked at her with a quirked eyebrow and an amused smile on his face.
He did think that! Oh, help.
Julia swallowed hard and plunged on.
'The villa is a bit of a labyrinth, in case you hadn't noticed. It started off quite small, but successive owners have added to it.'
A babbling brook, that was what she was. Julia wished he'd say something. She twisted a lock of her hair around her forefinger and tried to think of how to recover. So far, in their short acquaintance she had tumbled into him, denied him a room and set her dog on him. She had her runaway tongue to blame if he thought her touched in the head. Julia realised with a jolt that she wanted him to think more of her than that. She wanted him to like her, to be attracted to her in the same way she was attracted to him.
'I noticed that,' Valens said, his voice flowing over her jangled nerves like a balm. 'Perhaps you'd be good enough to show me the way. It will save me getting lost or having to find one of the servants.'
Words of apology died on Julia's lips. He wanted to spend time with her.
With the next breath, ice washed through her veins. He had probably accepted the offer because he needed to leave quickly before his training began, before he had to ask her politely but firmly to leave. He was trying to let her down gently, behaving as a guest should towards the daughter of the house.
'As it will save time, it will be my pleasure.' She swept out of the room with her head held high, eyes firmly fixed on the hanging lamp in the corridor.
His sandalwood scent enveloped her, holding her as surely as if she was in his arms. Julia felt some beads of sweat begin to gather on her forehead as she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.
'If you walk quickly, I'll lose you,' he said and tucked her arm in his.
Every nerve sizzled where her bare skin brushed his. Julia swallowed hard. Her whole body tingled from his nearness.
'It is easy to find your way, once you know how to go.'
Valens watched Julia's face as they walked along. This morning, her dark hair curled softly about her shoulders. No need to wonder at the outline of her curves. The thin off-white tunic clung in all the right places. He felt his body harden at the sight of it moulding to her calves as she walked.
He watched the way her body moved as she strode down the corridor, intent on showing him the way out, a way he already knew.
Despite his resolve to forget her, her face and her voice had haunted his thoughts last night and he had had a dozen conversations with her in his head. He watched her sleep-kissed mouth, and the curve of her slender throat, and wondered where he should begin.
In many ways, it would be easier if she went into worship mode. He was used to that. He could ignore it. He was used to women offering him their bodies.
He wanted more from her than just a quick meaningless meeting. He enjoyed talking to her as an equal, being himself and not Valens the Gladiator for once. He'd almost forgotten he had an existence before the arena, before the spectacle of life and death. Only in nightmares did he remember.
'How much training do you do?' she asked as they started down the stairs.
'In the run up to the games?' Valens replied, relieved to be talking about something he knew, something he could discuss with authority. If he kept the conversation on training, he'd be less inclined to notice her lips or the way her thin tunic hinted at her thighs. His body demanded to know what she felt like against him.
'That's right—in the run up to the games.' She smoothed a lock of hair from her face and revealed more of her creamy neck.
Valens averted his eyes, concentrating on the middle distance.
'We're training nearly all the time. Making sure the moves flow like water. There is more to a gladiatorial contest than simply waving a sword about. Each move has a countermove. The public are there for the spectacle, to see the danger of controlled combat. They want more than two amateurs hacking at each other. They'd sooner watch a spinning contest than that.'
Her laugh rang out at his rather feeble quip. He risked another peek at her face and found his eyes glued to her mouth as her floral perfume tickled his nose. He wanted this woman, he realised, with a great fierce longing. He wanted her in a way he had not wanted a woman for a long time. He reached out a hand to draw her towards him.
'Will you be training here or elsewhere?' Her voice drew him back from the abyss and his outstretched hand dropped to his side. 'I know my father hoped to watch some of your sessions. He was a keen amateur gladiator in his youth. Or at least that's what he said to Mettalius Scipio last night.'
Her innocent words felt like a sword plunging into his body. He knew why he could not have her, why women like her were for ever closed to him. Every nerve in Valens's body tensed and he waited for the next blow Fate had in store for him. Would she now confide how much she cared for Mettalius? Her hopes and dreams for the future as a senator's wife?
A surge of anger went through his body.
An intelligent woman like Julia was wasted on a man like Mettalius Scipio, a man who could barely move his feet and his sword at the same time.
'Is your betrothed a keen follower of the sport?' he asked and strove to keep his voice light, to not show how the man affected him.
'Please, he is anything but that. It is my stepmother's fancy.' Julia place a hand on his arm, her face turned up towards him with an earnest expression. 'I haven't divorced one feckless fish fancier to be saddled with another one, whatever Sabina thinks. Not without a fight. For one thing, the man smells of garlic'
'I apologise. I misunderstood.' Valens noticed his heart beat faster.
He allowed his eyes to feast on her lips. The first faint light of dawn appeared in the sky, bathing everything in its soft glow. With each passing breath, Julia's face seemed softer, her lips more enticing.
Mettalius was not her choice.
He should be well on his way to practice by now, but her denial kept running through Valens's brain. He found it impossible to move from her side and refused to think of the consequences.
'Apology accepted.' She inclined her head, but her eyes glittered defiantly. 'To answer your question—I believe he considers himself to be an ardent supporter of the games. The way he was going on, you'd think it was his troupe of gladiators that were appearing in Rome.'
'Did he say anything about me?'
Julia stopped and peeped up at him through her long lashes. 'I could tease you and say no, but it would be unfair. He has seen you fight and was very impressed, inspired. You are technically one of best Thracians he has ever seen. Training-manual perfect, I believe he said.'
'I'm honoured to have such a distinguished senator as Mettalius supporting me.'
'Mettalius isn't very—' She stopped mid-sentence and gave a laugh, putting a hand over her lips. 'Oh, you said you knew him. I'd forgotten.'
'I am honoured,' Valens protested, but as soon as he said it he gave a deep laugh, joining in with Julia's infectious giggle. 'I may have exaggerated a bit. I will bow to your superior knowledge of the man. Senatorial support can be invaluable in the arena'
'Why?'
"The patrons of the games are more often than not senators and quite literally have the power of life or death over a gladiator. It is good to have one or two on your side. For one thing, it increases the appearance fee and makes death less likely.'
He watched Julia's eyes sober. Should he have dressed the truth in a polite series of lies for her? The patron of games held the life of each fighter in his fist. The thumb turned up or d
own was all that mattered at the end of a fight. It was all he looked for as he listened to the screams of the crowd.
'Better a senator than a dictator,' she said, with a small tremble in her voice. She turned her body away from him, bowed her head and seemed to gather her thoughts. Immediately she turned back and met his gaze full on. 'I may have only been a child, but I remember Sulla's rein of terror when we all became like gladiators, living on the whim of Sulla. In the end the Republic was restored and long may it last.'
Valens wanted to reach out and enfold her in his arms, to hold her and tell her that everything would remain as it had always been except for those years under Sulla. Instead he tightened his grip on his belt. He needed no distractions from his work. Worrying about Julia and the traumas she had been through was not going to help him win his next bout in the arena. He straightened his shoulders and strode more purposefully down the corridor, ignoring the questions in her eyes.
'Long life and prosperity to the Senate and people of Rome, I'll agree with that,' Valens said, when he had his breathing under control and they had entered the main courtyard. 'With men such as Julius Caesar, I have no doubt the Republic will endure for another seven hundred years. He is a man who knows the value of putting on good entertainment for the crowd With the crowd on his side, who knows how far he can go?'
'My father has certainly found favour with his patronage, but Rome's politics are worse than the arena, I think. Many have risen to the top, only to fall back. Just look at my great-uncle—Marius—lauded as the saviour of Rome with honour after honour heaped on him, only to be reviled as a traitor and hounded to his death by Sulla.'
'Caesar is a prudent gambler. He will keep his feet.'
'I hope so. He is the best hope the Julian family has had in generations. We all need him and his good will.'
Valens closed his eyes and remembered when those words had been said about him—the time when he had been his family's best hope.
It was what made the fall so much harder—the knowledge he had let his entire family down. And the men who depended on him to keep them safe. His father had been right to turn his back on him, not to pay the pirate ransom.
The Gladiator's Honor Page 4
