A ragged cheer erupted from the gladiators. Valens stepped out on the sandy floor and into the blinding light of the sun.
He touched his cloak where the brooch usually lay and met nothing. He frowned, then relaxed as he thought of Julia. He had no need of a talisman. He knew what he fought for, who he fought for.
He gave a nod to the other first-hall gladiators and squared his shoulders. The training had ended. The spectacle was about to begin.
The crowd erupted in cheers as he appeared in the entranceway. He gave a brief glance at the bright array of colours, hoping to spot Julia, but gave up; it was enough knowing that she was there.
He took measured steps across the arena and stopped in front of Caesar's box. The sound of a hundred pairs of marching feet echoed around the arena behind him, then stopped.
The last cheers of the crowd died away. Except for the fluttering of paper, the entire arena was silent, holding its breath, waiting.
In unison with the others, Valens brought his hand to his chest. He looked towards the patron's box, resplendent in bright rich purple. The cost of the cloth alone would feed an army for six weeks. Standing behind Caesar was Julius Antonius. And next to him stood his own father. Valens tightened his jaw and stood up straighter as their eyes met. Then Valens concentrated his entire being on the tall slim man with greying hair who had brought about this entire spectacle.
'Hail, Caesar! We who are about to die salute you!'
The crowd erupted.
Caesar raised his right hand, acknowledging the salute and the cheers. 'I, Julius Caesar, Aedile of Rome, acknowledge you. Let the games in honour of my father's death begin!'
Then Valens walked back towards the gladiators' holding pen. Just before he left the arena, he bent down and let the sand dribble through his fingers. 'Fortunata, be with me now in the hour of my greatest need,' he prayed.
Valens took a deep breath and once again tried to make out Julia, but without success. As he stepped into the pen, he undid his sandals and left them placed neatly against the wooden wall. His time as man was over. His time as a god was over. His time as fighter was about to begin.
Julia watched the mock fights with growing apprehension. The weapons were only made of wood, but already she had seen one fighter dragged off by the guards after he had fallen. She heard the crowds, growing ever louder, baying for blood.
'What comes next?' she asked Claudia as the parts of the crowd started to stand up and move around.
'The beast fights come next. It is after that the real action begins.'
Julia's stomach churned. She found it impossible to imagine anything less appetising—watching condemned murderers and other enemies of the state being torn apart by lions and tigers.
'I think I will have a wander about and see what the latest betting is.' Without waiting for a reply, she stood up and made her way to the exit. Once there she took great gulps of fresh air before climbing down the steps.
On the concourse, people milled around, chatting about the fights and the likely pairings, placing bets and happily munching food. One man belched and rubbed his fat stomach as he proclaimed to his companion about the chances of Aquilia beating Valens. Julia clenched her fists and hurried her footsteps past.
On her right two security guards, their tunics emblazoned with Strabo's lion badge, stood guard. Julia hesitated, torn about what she should do, then common sense reasserted itself. She knew if she went in there, she'd be proclaiming to Rome, to all the world, where her allegiance lay. Valens had refused to allow her to make her decision, a decision she had no desire to make.
Everywhere she heard conversations about gladiators, comparing them as if they were things, not people with feelings.
'Julia Antonia, you are the last person I expected to see here.'
Julia spun around and met the warm gaze of Senator Gracchus.
'You as well, senator. I thought you had little love for the games.'
'I wanted to see what young Caesar was up to.'
The brooch cut into the side of Julia's neck and she thought of Valens's words, how she was supposed to take it to Gracchus should Valens die. She swallowed hard. Her hand closed around it. Then she stopped and forced her fingers to release it. Until the time came, she had to be brave. She had to respect Valens's wishes. 'Is that the only reason you are here?'
The senator's face turned grave. He laid a hand on her shoulder. 'Child, we both know why I am here. There are many sins I have committed in my life, but none so grievous as that one. He is my son, my own flesh and blood.'
Julia looked at the cobblestones. 'He insisted that he fight.'
Gracchus did not bother to pretend. 'He would. He is stubborn like his father.'
Julia tried for a smile, but her lips refused to curve upwards. 'He's a survivor,' she said with greater conviction in her voice than she felt in her heart.
'I hope with all my heart, child. I greatly wronged him the other day. I was angry that he had not contacted me. He had chosen to fight. In five years, he must have had opportunity after opportunity to come to see me.'
'He is proud. He did not want to face you as an infamis.'
'He gets that from his father, too.'
A blare of trumpets sounded and the crowd started to head back into the arena. Julia's heart leapt to her mouth.
'They are about to draw the pairings for this afternoon's fights. Would you like to join me in Caesar's box? Your father and stepmother are there already.'
Julia hesitated. She couldn't sit there in that box with all eyes on her, pretending she had no interest in the outcome.
She shook her head.
'I have another seat,' she said.
'You've missed the pair draw,' Claudia remarked as Julia reached them. 'The first bout is about to begin.'
'Who is it between?' Julia forced the words from her mouth.
'Tigris and Hylas,' Poppea answered without looking at her.
Julia sank down on the bench. Her legs refusing to hold her upright.
'Do you know who Valens is paired with?' she whispered.
Claudia leant over and patted her hand. 'Aquilia,' she said simply. 'They are the last bout of the afternoon. If I didn't know better, I would say the ballot was rigged.'
Nausea rose in Julia's stomach. She had no idea how she would last. She glanced over to the area where Maia and her children and knew what they must be going through.
The trumpets sounded again. This time solemn and mournful. Then the match began. Julia could barely keep up with the flashes of swords and clanging of shields. Despite her nerves, she found herself yelling with the rest of them.
Suddenly the crowd gave a collective sigh as Tigris's sword fell again, striking the other gladiator fully in the chest. The gladiator raised his finger and the crowd started to chant, 'Habet, hoc habet. He's had it.'
At a sign from Caesar, the crowd rose as one and started cheering.
Julia gripped Claudia's arm. 'What happening?'
'Tigris has won!' Claudia turned to her, her face glowing with admiration and pride. 'I can't believe it. That was an absolutely brilliant performance. Caesar has awarded him the rudius.' She clapped her hands and cheered. 'Oh, bravo. Well done! Marvellous fighting!'
'Tigris has done what?' Julia asked, straining to hear Claudia above the cheers.
'He's won his freedom! It was an absolutely stunning performance and to happen on the first match as well. He will never have to fight again!'
'You are lucky, Julia,' Poppea said. 'I had to wait for seven whole games before I ever saw a rudius being awarded.'
Julia's heart pounded in her ears.
'Do you think this will be the only rudius to be awarded this afternoon?'
Poppea gave a short laugh. 'I know Crassus is bankrolling Caesar, but even he does not have that type of money to release two gladiators in one games. Very doubtful, if not to say impossible.'
The others around them murmured their agreement.
Julia sat down and
put her head in her hands. Her world had crumbled before Valens had even stepped into the ring. She hadn't realised until that instant how much she had been counting on him winning the rudius and becoming free. It was her secret fantasy and had sustained her throughout the night. Nothing had mattered much because Valens was bound to win the rudius and be covered in honour. Now, that dream lay in the dust.
She looked across to the box where her father sat cheering with the rest of them as Caesar presented the wooden sword to Tigris and crowned his head with palm leaves.
She had to make a choice. Sitting there, patiently waiting for the outcome, was no longer a choice. She drew out the ticket Maia had given her then stood up and started to walk away.
'Julia, where are you going?'
'I am going to where I should have been in the first place. Where I belong.'
Chapter Eighteen
In the gladiator's enclosure, Valens listened to the cheers for Tigris and tried to be happy for him and Maia. All the years of long hard work had paid off. He had won the ultimate prize.
On any other day, he'd be happy for Tigris, but not today. Today it gave Fortunata another chance to laugh at him. Once again, he had encountered Fate's slippery pole. Just as his hand reached out to grasp the final ring, it had been pulled from him. Valens gave a bitter laugh.
Last night, he had refused to let Julia make a choice, afraid of what she might choose. It now came back to haunt him. Yes, he could purchase his way out of the profession by selling everything he owned—but what then could he offer Julia?
He heard the cheers as Tigris came back in, wooden sword held aloft for all to see. He carefully composed his face and strode over to Tigris, hugged him tightly to his chest and then released him. 'Absolutely marvellous. I am so proud for you and for Maia.'
Tigris clasped Valens's forearm. 'Thank you kindly, my old friend. Without you, I would not be here today to enjoy this honour.'
His eyes said words that his mouth did not.
'I am truly happy for you, Tigris,' Valens repeated. 'I can't think of anyone who deserves it more.'
'And you? What will you do?' Tigris nodded towards where Aquilia lounged, the only gladiator not to have congratulated Tigris on his good fortune.
'I'll fight.' Valens held up the palms of his hands. 'It is in the lap of the gods but I have a job to do.
'He will be tough, but I will find his weakness, you can count on that. He will not turn me to stone. Tonight we will be raising our winecups in celebration of your freedom.'
The trumpets sounded and another pair of gladiators walked out into the arena. Valens began his final preparations, taking comfort in the small automatic rituals of checking his equipment
Julia stared at the two security guards, standing with their axes crossed, preventing her from entering the area.
'I had a ticket I tell you,' she said searching through the folds in her shawl for a third time. 'Maia, Tigris's wife, gave it to me this morning before the parade.'
The security guards exchanged a look.
'That is what they all say.'
'No, honestly.' Julia felt the panic rising in her throat She had lost the ticket All her plans were going to be ruined. She had decided to make a stand and now these two oafs blocked her way.
She started to readjust her stola and her hand touched Val-ens's brooch. She undid it and held it out to the security guard.
'You say you work for Strabo, but do you recognise this? It belongs to Valens the Thracian gladiator. He gave it to me…'
She waited as the two guards consulted. One went off. The trumpets blew, signalling the start of another bout, and Julia stood on her tiptoes, trying to see. Each glimpse was precious. She felt sure Valens would look towards the family enclosure. He had to see what she had done. That she had made her decision in the most public way possible.
'All right,' the burly guard came back. 'I've spoken to the boss. You can go in. He has seen Valens wear that brooch. No trickery, mind you. They are about to signal the last bout.'
Julia clasped her hands together, took a deep breath and started forward. The trumpets blared a complicated fanfare and she began to run. She made her way to the edge of the enclosure, pushing past various people, trying to see what was going on in the arena. When she reached the front, she looked directly at the box and nodded to her father.
A small stab of pleasure filled her as she watched Sabina notice and point. She waved back and watched Sabina's face grow redder and redder. She saw her stepmother start to make angry gestures. It felt wonderful to watch Sabina impotent for once, reduced to merely opening and closing her mouth.
There was no point in thinking about what might have been. She had reached her discrimen, her dividing line, and gone beyond it. Now she could only go forwards.
'The die is cast,' she whispered, quoting the line from Meander's famous play. 'Let my die fall where they will.'
She noticed a man gesturing towards her.
'I'm Strabo, the owner of this school and you are…' The man in a badly fitting wig leant towards her.
'Julia Antonia.' At Strabo's hooded look, she hesitated. Then she tightened her hold on the brooch. 'Valens's woman.'
'Bah, he has no woman. He is a lone wolf.'
Julia held out the brooch. 'He does now.'
'Just so.' Strabo touched the side of his nose and his lips stretched to the briefest of smiles. 'Afterwards we talk, but now the fun begins.'
Julia's breath stopped in her throat. She watched Valens stride out of the tunnel, looking every inch the perfect warrior. This morning's brilliant splendour of silver had been replaced by much more mundane steel. Even from where she sat, Julia could see the hammered-out dents from previous battles. She had expected Valens to come out carrying his helmet like the other gladiators had done, but his visor was firmly locked on his head.
She stood up, trying to make it easier for him to spot her, to see what she had done. He never looked her way. Julia sank down, her knees trembling too much to hold her.
The trumpets played a faint mournful tune, then a great cheer went up through the crowd.
'What does that mean?'
'It is a signal for a fight to the death. I hope Caesar understands how much this pair is worth. Whatever happens, his purse will be much lighter,' Strabo answered, leaning forward.
Julia felt ice invade her veins. She wanted to run and hide, but her feet were rooted to the spot and she was unable to tear her eyes away. Her hand curled around the brooch and she started to pray as she had never prayed before. He had to live, to survive.
At the sound of the trumpets, Valens started forward. He gave his helmet one last click and did not acknowledge Aquilia's snarl. His gaze swept around the arena again searching for Julia. If she were anywhere in the arena, she would be under the watchful eye of her father. Valens made a quick check of the purple-draped box—there was no sign of her.
His heart constricted. He had hoped to see her one last time before this bout, but the gods had decreed he would not. He gave a bow to Caesar and to the rest of the occupants and then crouched in his stance, waiting for Aquilia to make the first move.
They circled each other, testing and probing for strengths and weaknesses. Valens moved forward and slashed with his sword. Aquilia jumped away.
'You will have to do better than that, Tribune,' he called, wiping a hand across his mouth before spitting at Valens's feet.
'Why do you call me a tribune?' Valens blocked a thrust from Aquilia's trident.
Aquilia's eyes narrowed. 'Because I remember you. I remember every last detail about your time with me. The feel of the deck beneath my feet, the smell of salt and blood in my nose. There is a certain sweetness to the stench.'
The horror of the fetid pirate's hold swept over Valens. He heard Aquilia's voice and remembered the time when Aquilia strode across the deck of the trireme with the power of death in his voice. He felt the cold creep of fear along his spine. How much did Aquilia remember that he had
forgotten?
Valens used his shield to block a stab with the trident.
'I remember everything,' Aquilia's voice became singsong, lulling him, as hypnotic as a snake. Valens knew he should be concentrating on finding an opening, but Aquilia's voice sent out silken tendrils that caught his mind and dragged him back to those dark days. 'How you cried when your friends died, how you raged with anger when the ransom did not arrive, how you begged me to spare your life and sell you as a slave.'
The last words cut through the ropes that bound his mind.
Valens straightened, lifted his shield and sword, prepared to attack
'I never begged you.'
'You always begged me.' Aquilia grinned as he circled the net above his head. 'As you will beg me soon to end your life.'
Valens heard the net hiss, dropped to the ground and rolled away from it. Sand and grit filled his nose and mouth. He rose to his feet and stared back at the glowering gladiator whose every breath radiated menace. Aquilia slapped his thigh with the trident three times.
'I'm waiting, boy.' Aquilia took a step forward. 'Waiting to hear your mewling cries, just as you did before. Crying for your gods to save you. Guess what—they didn't answer. You have been abandoned by everyone and everything you held dear. Nobody cares for you.'
Valens wiped a hand across his face and took control of his emotions. His mind cleared. The secret of Aquilia's success was obvious now. Aquilia used the fear he had installed in his captives as a pirate captain to numb his opponents, to make them lose their concentration and start making fatal errors. Valens smiled grimly. Aquilia cast his web of lies effectively but he had neglected one gaping hole. Julia. Now it remained to be seen if Aquilia was as good with his trident and net as he was with his words.
Valens crouched low and pretended to cower. Aquilia's grin widened. He cast the net again, throwing with a lazy and practised ease.
As the net arced through the air towards him, Valens reached out a hand. He grabbed the end with its silver weights, ignoring the sting as the weights hit his forearm, and pulled Aquilia towards him.
The Gladiator's Honor Page 24
