The Gladiator's Goddess (The Gladiators' Gifts)

by Hearst, Amy

  The Gladiator’s Goddess

  By Amy Hearst

  Copyright 2014

  Cross Communications

  All Rights Reserved

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Afterword

  Chapter One

  Nardine stopped pouring wine for the lanista when she heard Gaius scream from the floor of the arena. She tensed as she turned to watch the battle below —three men against one, and Gaius the lone opponent. Across the amphitheater, patrons stood and screamed and women ripped their tunics from the breasts. The thirst for blood touched almost all in the coliseum. One of the three brutes stomped on Gaius’ chest after clubbing him with a mace. Nardine heard his wail of defeat. Tears began to form at the corners of her eyes as she watched the three gladiators trample him and strike him again and again, drawing blood that sprayed everywhere.

  Nardine carried the cup of the wine to the lanista, who shouted and cursed. “He is better than this,” he screamed. “I bet much coin on him, the churl. I thought he could outlast these three nobodies. This shouldn’t be happening.”

  Nardine silently agreed. Unbidden, the tears spilled onto her cheek as she turned away, drew a deep breath and steadied herself. As a slave, she had no control over what went on in the arena. She must go on with her duties, no matter the bloodshed. Gaius would want her to go on living. She did not want to sink into the despair she experienced after her first lover, Matthias, died. She had missed having a man in her life since the death of Matthias, another gladiator, several years ago. He had died violently in the arena, and she had mourned for him. Now, the same thing would happen again.

  Both the lanista and his wife Cornelia knew that Gaius and Nardine loved each other; Cornelia had brought them together. But it wouldn’t do for Nardine to be seen crying while she performed her duties. Her heart ached, but the volatile mistress could punish her on a whim. And watching Gaius die had been punishment enough.

  *****

  The next morning in the kitchen Nardine chopped vegetables for the luncheon meal. She had spent the night alone in her cell. The mistress, Cornelia, had not forced her to sleep with another gladiator after the match the previous day. She seldom went to gladiators, as she spent most of her time here in the kitchens or in the physician’s chamber. She had only been gifted to Gaius as a fluke, when another female slave became ill. Nardine rejoiced over the luck that brought her to Gaius’ bed. Courteous and respectful, but not a particularly agile man between the sheets, he loved Nardine, and she appreciated him.

  As she worked, Matthias came to mind. A young, green, gladiator, he’d brought her nothing but joy in the bedroom. She remembered him for many months, grieving, before her heart began to heal. How would she ever now recover from Gaius’ death? He was not as skilled a lover as Matthias, but he had a warm heart and devoted himself to her. How could he be replaced? For years she had dreamed of leaving the ludus, and watched her friend and fellow slave Rue wed another gladiator, Ducius. They both walked free after the ceremony, and Nardine wished with all her heart she could walk out with them. Ducius, a champion gladiator, had won Rue from the lanista as part of a bet on a match. But Nardine realized her future would be quite different from Rue’s, no matter what fortune had in store for her.

  Claudia, Rue’s replacement, strode into the kitchen, hauling a pail of water. “It is quite hot out by the well, Nardine. I think I would prefer to stay here in the kitchen and keep you company,” she said as she sat down at the same table.

  “I might not be very good company today, Claudia. I am remembering Gaius.”

  “Ah yes, Gaius, the man of few words. He was a handsome one, that one, and I know you cared for him. But I seem to recall hearing you told another not to allow herself to care for anyone in the ludus lest he or she be taken!”

  Nardine had indeed given Rue that piece of advice. “Yes, I know I did say that. I think I just needed… his warmth. He was very, very comfortable.”

  Both women smiled at that. “Ah yes, I know what you mean. I am sorry you lost him. He was a fine man, finer than most around this ludus. But you will find another, I am certain, if the mistress will allow it. You are a beautiful woman in your way, Nardine. I wish I had your golden hair, but not the temper that goes with it!”

  Nardine smiled again. “I know you are trying to cheer me up Claudia. Thank you for that, I need it. But it isn’t Gaius alone I mourn for. I dreamed of having a baby with him. He’s the type of man I always thought would make a good father.” Never having known her own father, Nardine didn’t know what to look for. But Gaius seemed steady.

  “I must confess I never thought of you as the mothering type, Nardine. But just as every woman wants a man, every woman wants a child as well. You wouldn’t be the first slave to give birth in the ludus of Marcus Antonius.”

  “But my baby would be taken from me!”

  “Not right away and you know that doesn’t always happen.”

  “Yes, I know, but eventually. And what kind of future is that for a child?” Nardine remembered her own childhood, when her mother sold her into slavery at the age of eleven.

  “If that’s what you really want, Nardine, then you must run away. I don’t know how you would plan on having a baby without a place to live, or without a man, living on the streets, but perhaps you might find employment somewhere. I suppose that would improve your chances. The streets are dangerous.”

  “I can take care of myself.” Nardine raised the dagger she kept hidden in her shift. “Gaius taught me how to use this,” she said. “I can protect myself,” she repeated, hoping to convince herself.

  “I wish you luck then, Nardine. You are a braver woman than me. I would not risk the punishment, let alone life on the streets. But perhaps you will make it, and perhaps you might survive.”

  Nardine knew she must try. She didn’t want to live with the consequences of a life of slavery.

  Chapter Two

  Abedi sat down on his pallet in the infirmary. New to the ludus of Marcus Antonius, he had just been purchased from another, where he had fought several times as a gladiator. He managed to be light-footed in the arena, a skill that saved his life more than once. Once again, it had saved him during his first match. He had survived but had lost the match after a serious injury to his left leg. His opponent struck him hard with a sword, cracking the bone and causing a great deal of bleeding.

  Abedi would have to work to prove himself here where some of the finest gladiators in Rome surrounded him. Tall and competent, almost all of them challenged Abedi to prove himself.

  But Abedi, optimistic by nature, could never have survived if he were otherwise. First, he endured being captured as a slave in his native Africa. The slavers caught him in a net one night when he returned to his village from a hunting trip. He never saw his family or his young wife again.

  Then, for years, he worked as a galley slave, rowing for days on end and sleeping at the oars, his legs chained to a bench in the bottom of a ship. Brutally whipped more than once, his back bore the marks to prove it. But he learned discipline on the galley, another skill that helped saved his life in the arena. Successful gladiators all were disciplined. Or else they soon died.

  Before sitting on the pallet in his cell, Abedi had pulled an amulet out of his loincloth. He arrived at the ludus wearing only that, and yet he managed to hide
the pendant once again from the eyes of his masters. Somehow, he had carried it all the way from Africa, removing it from his neck while still caught in the net and putting it in his mouth. He had almost swallowed it when they beat him that first time, but still he managed to conceal it.

  The amulet brought him luck. It displayed the face of a goddess native to Africa, a goddess of fertility. Abedi’s young wife had been with child, so he knew the charm worked. He rubbed it thoughtfully. The goddess had protected him through many crises, and neither the lanista nor the doctore knew he wore it during his matches in the arena. Abedi always kept it hidden on his person, and he trusted in the goddess to save his life.

  His only possession became his most precious possession. It gave him the hope to go on —to know that a better life existed beyond the arena, beyond slavery.

  Somehow, he would find it.

  *****

  Nardine crept out of her chamber that night several hours after she had entered it. The silence echoed down the hallway, before the hoot of an owl sounded somewhere. A few torches lit the ceilings from sconces along the wall. She carried her shoes as she padded down the stone halls barefoot and pushed out the oaken door to the courtyard. No guards patrolled the garden at night, and she could try to cross it to reach the left entrance of the ludus. With luck, she would escape the guard’s detection there and be able to run to the street.

  As she slipped her shoes on, she looked around the courtyard. No one in sight. The owl hooted more loudly now. She scampered across the grass and had just reached the stone walk when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

  “Nardine, what on earth are you doing in the courtyard at this late hour?”

  Cornelia stared down at her. Nardine might have asked her the same question.

  “I was going to relieve myself, mistress.”

  “But the lavatory is on the other side.

  “That one is out of order. I wanted to go to the one near the guards’ quarters.” Nardine scrambled for an excuse.

  Cornelia gripped her arm firmly. “Come, come, Nardine. Don’t lie to me. I know that lavatory is in perfect order. I just had it checked this morning. No, I believe you were running away. I know the courtyard is unguarded at this hour just as well as you do.”

  “Truly, mistress, I was just…”

  “As I said,” Cornelia interrupted, “I don’t want to hear any more lies. I know you’ve been mooning about over that big brute Gaius for the last two days. I know how many times he requested you, Nardine. But by this time, you know the rules of the game when it comes to gladiators. They don’t always survive. After all, that first gladiator you bedded died too. I believe his name was Matthias. You do seem to be unlucky when it comes to the gladiators you sleep with!”

  Nardine decided to play humble, a tactic that usually worked with Cornelia. “I am sorry to have disappointed you, mistress. I will vow to do better in the future.”

  “I will do you a favor, Nardine, although I probably should not. I will overlook this, because of your faithful service over so many years and because of your grief over Gaius. But you must never do it again! If you attempt to escape you will be beaten and sold! I promise it. Now return to your chamber before I change my mind. We won’t speak of this again.”

  Nardine quickly walked back the way she had come. Her escape attempt had come to naught, sooner than she expected. Now Cornelia would suspect her. Perhaps her luck had run out, but Nardine didn’t give up easily. She could be stubborn, too. Cornelia knew that about her. So Nardine would have to be careful from now on. And where else could she find help but among the gladiators? They would be strong enough to help defend her if anyone, like Cornelia, got in her way. All she wanted was a home and family—a life like that of any citizen or Rome. Except she wasn’t a citizen. Nardine was a slave. And the only way to change her situation was to escape.

  *****

  Nardine worked with the physician the following day in the infirmary, where she tended to injured gladiators and helped prepare medicines for them. As she traipsed from one side of the hospital to the other, an injured gladiator whom she had never noticed before called out to her. His leg injury appeared gray and black and looked painful. When she glanced up from his leg, she saw a brawny brown-skinned man smiling at her.

  “Are you to be my nurse, Nardine?” he asked. “I have never known such a beautiful nurse before.”

  The first thing Nardine noticed about his face was his eyes. An indefinable shade of brown, they looked autumn leaves. “How do you know my name?” she asked. “I have never seen you before.”

  “I have been here, watching you. I was injured in the last match. But I first noticed you at the ludus a month or so ago. I am a recent arrival from another ludus, one of your master’s rivals. One of the other gladiators told me your name. I am called Abedi. It is my tribal name.”

  Nardine paused for a moment, studying him. Strong and handsome, with a pointed noise and a jutting chin, Abedi’s pronounced cheekbones gave him character. His eyes drilled into her with intensity unmatched by any of the other gladiators she’d conversed with.

  “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Abedi.” She smiled. “I am sure you will be healing soon, although that injury to your leg does look serious.” She uncovered the ugly gash. Traces of blood showed on Abedi’s swollen lower calf.

  “I still can’t walk, but I will be on my feet soon and in the arena after that.”

  She suddenly remembered Abedi as the gladiator whose life had been spared at the last match because he had battled a long time against a much larger opponent. “Well, you are optimistic, and that always speeds healing,” said Nardine, putting the bandage back in place and wondering if he’d ever be able to fight again.

  “I would like to make better acquaintance, as you call it,” said Abedi. “And I will request you after my next victory in the ring.”

  “When that time comes, we will indeed make better acquaintance.” Nardine smiled and dismissed him. It might be a long time before he won a victory in the arena. By that time he might have changed his mind. She regretted that he was injured, however, as he might have been the one to help her escape. Still, his eyes stayed with Nardine. She wondered for a moment what he saw when he looked at her that way. His mysterious gaze sent a small shock wave through her, as though the earth crumbled beneath her toes.

  Chapter Three

  A few weeks later Nardine decided to take matters into her own hands and approach a gladiator to befriend him. Entanglements not approved by the master or his wife were strictly forbidden. Still, Nardine knew of some slaves who managed to couple without the lanista or Cornelia finding out about it. Nardine did not want to sleep with gladiators in order to get help, but maybe she wouldn’t have to. Maybe some of them would want to escape, too, and wouldn’t mind bringing a woman along. After all, they could pose as a couple after escaping, which might lessen suspicion.

  She decided to approach a gladiator named Justinus, who had won countless victories in the arena. Justinus had dark blonde hair like her own, and a moody temperament. After watching the gladiators leaving the practice field each day, Nardine noticed that Justinus sat on a rock outcropping by the edge of the field each day for a few moments, sunning himself. This day, she watched as the other gladiators joked with him and then left him alone, as he ran his fingers back through his damp hair and lifted his face to the sky. Nardine would make her plea quickly, since she would be punished if the master discovered here speaking with him.

  “Justinus,” she said as she walked up to him. “I see you won your match in the arena. It was a great victory.”

  “All my victories are great victories. I still have my life, do I not?” he asked. “What do you want, wench?”

  Nardine didn’t know how to overcome his surliness. “I want to leave here.”

  “Don’t we all? Don’t we all have better places to go than this hell hole? But why are you telling me this? Don’t you know you could be beaten for bothering me? And
maybe even put to death for speaking of a possible escape?”

  “I thought you and I could run away together.” Even as she spoke the words, Nardine realized how desperate she sounded.

  “Run away together? As lovers do? You stupid wench. I have a male lover, Septo, among the gladiators. You know him, as he travels past the kitchens as often as I do.”

  Nardine might have suspected that Septo had a male lover, but not Justinus. “I thought we could pose as a couple on the outside and allay suspicion.”

  “If I ever escape, there will be nothing secret about it. Either I will be killed in the process, or I will live in legend, as Spartacus did.”

  Nardine didn’t mention it, but Spartacus, who had died more than one hundred years before, hadn’t lived very long at all. He launched a bloody and widespread slave rebellion, which the Romans ultimately quashed.

  “And I won’t be taking any bloody woman with me! Better that you stay here and remain in the kitchens.”

  “I am sorry to have bothered you,” said Nardine. “You looked like someone who might want out of here. I would appreciate if you tell no one of my request.”

  “I won’t tell the master, anyway. I can give you that gift. But mind your own business from now on, and don’t interfere with me.” He stood up and shook his long hair out. “I’m getting something to eat.”

  As he walked away, Nardine stole out of sight. She didn’t want to be spotted with a gladiator and be punished. She would have to find another way.

  *****

  Nardine humbled herself before Cornelia, kneeling and pressing her head to the mistress’s hand in a hallway of the ludus.

  “Come, come,” said Cornelia. “What is your request? You don’t behave like this very often, Nardine. It must be something important.”

  “It is,” said Nardine. “I have been thinking about all you said to me. It is true that I thought of running away. The death of Gaius made me pine for him. And for my freedom. I have only now come to my senses and realized what I have to do to get over him. I must have another gladiator. I want you to give me to another gladiator after next week’s match.”