'Are you going to tell me about her?' Tigris said after Strabo left to harangue another set of fighters.
'What nonsense are you spouting now, Tigris?' Valens blocked the blow by moving his shield with great speed.
'The reason you only just made the start of practice, the woman you are not interested in taking to bed. I assume she has a name.'
Tigris blocked Valens's move and countered with another blow. Valens could feel the anger beginning to build within him, his concentration starting to slip once more.
'You have a vivid imagination,' Valens said and brought his shield up. 'I told you I had to make an act of worship at one of the temples. I felt a sudden calling.'
'Since when did you come religious?' Tigris remarked. He touched the brim of his helmet and then brought his sword back for the next attack. 'You should take her to bed instead of skulking around temples. A much more pleasurable activity to my mind at any rate.'
Valens watched for the next swipe of the sword and knew what he had to do. He and Tigris had practised this easy but showy move a thousand times before. Valens brought down his shield, intending to strike Tigris's sword, but Tigris's remarks about Julia distracted him. The shield came down a fraction too late and connected with Tigris's hand with a bone-jarring thump.
'Sorry about that,' he muttered, staring at Tigris's reddened sword arm. It was basic mistake. Had this been in the arena, he would now be dead, as the opposing gladiator's sword would have sliced through his unprotected midriff. A mistake worthy of an untried tiro rather than a very experienced gladiator.
Tigris flexed his hand several times.
'It will be a nasty bruise, but not much more than that,' Tigris said.
'Shall we go and see the doctor, just to make sure? I have no wish to be the cause of your pulling out of the games,' Valens said with a teasing note in his voice, but his insides churned. He had come within a whisker of seriously injuring his friend through his own lack of attention.
'What is her name?' Tigris remarked as they walked towards the infirmary. 'A hurt sword arm deserves at least a name.'
'You're incorrigible, Tigris.'
'The name.'
Valens glanced around the dusty sand-strewn courtyard. It
was only a practice of the Thracian and other small shields. If Tigris's gentle teasing made him make a mistake like that, how much more damage could Aquilia do?
'Julia, Julia Antonia,' he said quietly as Tigris continued to stare.
Tigris whistled. "I thought you were only interested in her dog.'
'Be serious, Tigris.'
'I'm always serious in matters of the heart.' Tigris gave an elaborate bow. 'You should take her into your bed. It will cure you. It always has before. I find it difficult to think of one woman with whom you have had a long-term relationship. One tumble and you are off and on to pastures new.'
Valens rolled his eyes. He had wondered if the time they shared might decrease his desire for Julia. But his slow reactions today were proving otherwise. He had lost his essential focus.
'I had already thought of that one,' he said, raking his hand through his hair. 'What if it only increases the desire?'
Tigris roared with laughter and clapped Valens on the back. 'Then you keep taking the girl to bed. Eventually one of two things will happen: either you tire of each other or you marry.'
Marriage—the word hung in the air. Valens knew it was what he desired, the only cure for Julia. He forced back images of her lying in his bed, with her hair spread out on his chest, their limbs entwined. What man alive would not want to spend the rest of the time allotted to him in that way? What would a child of theirs look like?
'Marriage is forbidden between patrician women and slaves, you know that,' Valens said through clenched teeth.
'I fail to see that as a problem.'
'I'm still a slave, not a contract gladiator like you.'
Tigris's face sobered. 'Since when has a little thing like that stopped you? Go and buy your freedom. You are then a freeman and a rich one. If you need the money, I am happy to loan you some until you sell one of your estates in Capua. Stop putting non-existent obstacles in your way. You may name your first child after me.'
'Next you will have me believing in fairy stories.' Valens gave a nod to the surgeon and allowed the surgeon's assistant to start rubbing salve into his shoulder while the surgeon bound Tigris's arm. Tigris had little understanding of Roman society, what doors would be forever closed to Julia, but he knew Julius Antonius knew. And he knew he was right. The only way to go forward was to continue with his plan and hope. 'It is amazing what these doctors can do with a bit of medicine, instead of resorting to chants and superstition.'
'You are stubborn,' Tigris said and his next words quashed Valens's hope that he would take the hint and change the subject. 'Strabo would have allowed you to buy your freedom years ago. He made the offer at the same time I purchased my freedom.'
'I told you then and I tell you now, I want to win my freedom. Purchasing my freedom means nothing to me.' Valens leant his head back against the rough-hewn plaster of the infirmary and closed his eyes.
The argument had nearly led to the break up of their friendship. Tigris refused to understand why Valens was content to be a slave. He did not understand that, without honour, Valens had no standing in society and his sons, if he should have them, would always be looked down upon, sneered at. Without the honour the wooden sword would bring, it was unlikely Julius Antonius would ever agree to ally his family with Valens.
'You would be purchasing it with your winnings,' Tigris argued back. 'I know how wealthy you are, Valens, and shutting your eyes will not make the force of my argument go away.'
'How's Maia and the children?' Valens asked, blatantly trying to distract Tigris.
He watched Tigris throw up his hands in disgust and knew he had won. The prodding was over.
'Maia arrives tonight, if all goes to plan.'
'But I thought you were worried about Aquilia.'
'I will worry a lot less if they are under my watchful eye. I have rented a house in the Aventine. It has a good view of the Circus. They will be able to watch without the jostling of the crowds.'
The Circus Maximus where the games were to be held nestled in the hollow between the two most important hills in Rome—the Palatine, where Valens had grown up, and the Aventine, where the masses lived. It symbolised the meeting of the two halves of Roman society for the games and for the chariot races—two passions both sections of society shared.
Valens thought, with a pang of nostalgia, of how he'd loved watching the games at the Circus, and how one day he'd made the mistake of voicing his love for the games and rousing his father's anger. It was why, when the ransom had not arrived, it had been confirmation of something he'd always known. His father preferred death before dishonour.
'I look forward to seeing Maia.'
Tigris's eyes grew grave.
'Valens, you need to fight against something. I need to fight for someone. Maia and the children we have are those people.'
'Did I say a word?' Valens tried to push the thoughts out of his mind. With Julia, he had lost the will to fight. His desire to stay alive was greater than his desire to win. Valens stooped and picked up a handful of sand, allowing it to trickle through his fingers. He had to find a way, otherwise all hopes for the future were doomed. He gave an ironic laugh. His future depended on his fighting as if he had no future. "The situation is very complicated.'
Tigris clasped Valens's arms. 'You can always stay with us.'
Valens shook his head. To see the love Tigris and Maia had for each other would only increase his need to be with Julia. It would tear at his soul and show what he had lost. But he could not explain this to Tigris, not now. Instead he opted for a laugh. 'I have stayed with you before. I will just get in the way.'
'The door is open and the offer is there.'
'I'll remember that.' Valens stood up and rotated his shoulder, intendi
ng to let the offer quietly drop. 'Shall we go out and brave the practice ring again?'
Julia put down the scroll and moved to the window, but the courtyard was virtually empty, just two of the household servants cleaning the fountain. She let out a soft breath. The words of the augur kept ringing in her mind—returned from the dead. Who was a modern-day Orpheus?
If only Valens was a Roman… Julia put a hand to her throat. Of course he was a Roman, but one in disgrace. Disgrace was not the same as death. But what if his family had thought him dead? They had left him to die in the pirate's hold. And what if she could effect a reconciliation? She could give him back his past.
She started to pace the room. Where to start? She needed to have a plan, a place to begin. Bato nudged her hand. She bent down to stroke him, but sighed. He had something in his mouth. 'Give.'
Bato placed the figurine of Valens on the floor with a sheepish look. Julia picked it and regarded it. The day they met, Valens had said that she knew him because of the figurine. But the figurine was wearing a helmet. His features were familiar from somewhere else. Julia shut her eyes and willed it to come to her. At the edge of her mind she saw it— a death mask, one that hung in the Gracchus compound. A clue? Her heart beat faster. She needed more than a feeling.
"That's it, Bato, you are a marvel.'
She walked down the corridor and pushed Valens's door open. The room still held his faint smell, making her limbs tremble. She hesitated, her heart thumping louder than the drums on the Campo Martial in her ears, then walked purposefully over to the small wooden trunk.
As she hoped, it was unlocked. With a loud creak, she opened it and stared at the items: several tunics, a cloak and another box. She picked it up. This one was locked. She tightened her lips and made a face.
So much for great ideas.
One by one she replaced his garments, taking care that each was put back exactly how she had found them, the smell of him clinging to her fingers and enveloping her. She felt a warmth engulf her as she remembered how his arms had held her tightly against his body. As her hand brushed the cloak, smoothing out the final wrinkles, a pin pricked her.
She put her index finger into her mouth, making sure no blood dropped on the dark blue cloak, then took a closer look at the brooch fastened on the collar, expecting to see the lion from Strabo's school, but it wasn't.
She stared at the two greyhounds on either side of a three-pointed rock. It reminded her of her ex-father-in-law's signet ring. Her hands started trembling. Senator Gracchus's son had died about five years ago, shortly before his wife. Could it be?
She sat back on her feet, dismissing the idea as being ludicrous. The more she thought, the more it refused to go away.
She tried to remember if she had ever seen a grave. Or was it simply a death mask? Was his death mask the one she remembered? The reason she thought she knew Valens?
He looked nothing like her ex-husband. Lucius had been the son of the senator's wife's sister, the nearest male relation who was willing to be adopted—it was important that the Gracchus name continue. Senator Gracchus had to have an heir. It was the Roman custom.
Julia put a hand to her throat, playing with her beads. What to do? Her body trembled with excitement. She had to know. She had to grab the chance, as slight as it might be.
She should have visited Gracchus a long time ago, listened more fully to his stories. She didn't even know what the son's name had been. Gaius? Gneus? Julia sighed and shook her head. The precise name escaped her. Every time she had visited with Lucius and the question of his son had been raised, Lucius had behaved strangely, changing the subject as soon as possible.
Julia smoothed the cloak one last time before replacing it in the trunk. Finding out about the son's death might be difficult, but it should be relatively straightforward to see the death mask that hung on the back of Gracchus's atrium. It would take but a glance and she could rest her mind. She had to be certain. And once she was, she'd solve all her problems. For the first time in a long time, Julia thought she saw the glimmer of light. But before she could do anything, she needed an excuse to visit.
'Come on, Bato, your old master should have a bone or two for you.'
The Gracchus compound was on the lower slopes of the Palatine. Unlike the winding narrow passageways of Subura, where houses of ill repute stood next to patrician villas, here nothing was allowed to spoil the tranquillity. Julia walked along the leafy lane, enjoying the sounds of birds instead of the shouts from the market.
She stood in front of the Graccus villa, rehearsing her speech, a pleasant fiction about Bato missing the senator.
Her hand trembled as she knocked on the solid oak door.
After a brief conversation with the porter, she went into the dappled shade of the large courtyard to await the arrival of Senator Gracchus. Julia walked slowly amongst the death masks and various statues, looking for Gracchus's son. Her heart sank slightly. The one she wanted was missing. She could see the white patch where it had hung, but the mask was gone.
Julia made a face. Why were things never simple?
A movement caused her to turn from the wall. She watched as Senator Gracchus made a grand entrance, frail but resplendent in his snow-white toga with its large purple border.
'Julia Antonia, how good it is of you to call on an old man,' Senator Gracchus said, holding out both his hands, gold rings glittering on every finger. His hair was thinner and his face much more lined than she remembered. He appeared to have lost a great deal of weight, but his bearing showed he had not lost much of the presence that had intimidated two generations of senators. 'It has been too long since your charm graced this garden, Julia.'
'Far too long since I have had the pleasure of enjoying your hospitality,' Julia agreed and her eyes scanned his face, searching for any resemblance to Valens. There a vague resemblance in the way he held his head and moved, but little in the way of matching physical features. 'Bato wanted to come to see you.'
She pointed to Bato who immediately lay on his back and wriggled. Gracchus laughed and reached down to tickle the dog's tummy.
'Dogs always remember those who have been kind to them,' he said. 'I remember this one as being a particular scamp. Perhaps the cook can rustle up a ham bone or two.
He clapped his hands. Two servants appeared and led Bato towards the kitchen.
'Was Bato your dog?' Julia tried to make her voice casual.
'No, my son's.' A shadow passed over Gracchus's face. 'Gaius left him here when he was posted off to Zama in North Africa—called him something, I can't think of the name, but Lucius changed it when I gave him Bato. I thought Bato would cement my ties with Lucius, but the dog did not take to him in the same way.'
It would do no good to tell Senator Gracchus that Bato disliked Lucius because he had hit her and the dog had tried to protect her. He had never wanted to hear the reasons before, believing Julia's lies about walking into doors.
Julia forced air out of her lungs. She had to concentrate and not allow her mind to be distracted. Gracchus's son had been posted off to Zama, in North Africa. Valens had not said where he had been stationed. North Africa was large. It could have been anywhere. She closed her eyes, willing her heart to be still, not to race ahead. She wanted to be calm.
'I forget. How did your son die? Captured by pirates?' Her hairstyle felt heavy against the back of her neck.
Gracchus gave a small sad smile. 'I only wish. I would have been only too happy to pay any ransom legitimately demanded. He perished in an assault on a rebellious town. A needless waste as the town was unimportant.'
Julia felt like a foolish girl who believed in dreams. With a few words, Gracchus had extinguished the small flicker of hope.
'I thought there was a tale about pirates,' she said, trying to recover and not to let her disappointment show.
'Child,' Gracchus said, putting his hand on her shoulder, 'a request for ransom arrived, but they sought to play on an old man's desire for his son. Your lates
t suitor, Mettalius, saw him fall. He brought back Gaius's brooch pinned to the bloody cloak that Gaius wore. My son would never have freely given mat up. It had been in my wife's family for generations. My wife faded away after that. Lucius was so attentive to her in the last few days. Always here, always finding something to cheer her up or some sweetmeat to tempt her appetite. Of course, when she died, I knew I was too old to take another woman, and I made Lucius my heir. He was the closest male relation who was willing to be adopted.'
Julia swallowed hard and closed her eyes. It had been too easy, too much like a fairy tale. At least she had had the wit not to come in and proclaim to Gracchus that his son was alive.
'I am so sorry.'
'The Fates decreed that I outlive my son and wife, but don't put ashes on your head or allow your eyes to fill with tears for someone you did not know. He had done his military service. He ignored my pleas to stay at home, and would go adventuring, lusting after glory.' Gracchus clapped his hands. 'And now, I think a bit of cool mint tea to revive our spirits. You do have time to stay.'
'Only if you desire it. I have no wish to tire you.' She watched the servants bring the table and jug of mint tea. With great ceremony, the servant poured a beaker for her. She took a sip and felt the cool sweetness slip down her throat, easing it.
'Good, you must tell me all that has been happening to you since you last graced this garden.' Gracchus waved his hands expansively and his rings threw beams of light across the garden.
A servant brought Bato back and he flopped down at Julia's feet, with a bone large enough to feed a family of five, let alone a greyhound. 'We have a gladiator staying with us. One of Caesar's troop. The one called Valens the Thracian. You may have seen the notices or his figurine on street corners.'
Gracchus frowned and swirled his beaker of tea. 'Caesar has altogether too many gladiators. He reaches too far, too fast, I believe.'
Julia took another sip of her tea and watched Gracchus. She had forgotten the politics. Gracchus was a senator of the old school, one who believed in the Republic and its ancient ideals. 'My father seems pleased with the gladiator. He is helping my father improve his sword technique.'
The Gladiator's Honor Page 15
