Typhon_An Ancient Roman Reverse Harem Romance

by Nhys Glover

  “I must apologise to you, my dear. I believed the gossip was an exaggeration. It was not. Luckily, my bodyguards stepped in, or I myself may well have been injured when I told him he was being removed from his post.”

  I sighed, glad he realised the extent of the problem. “So he will be gone now?”

  “He is gone already. My men have him in hand. I have put one of the other tutors in charge of the training until Lucullus’ replacement arrives. Now I think it would be wise if you were to gather your things and come back to our villa until we can get word to your relatives in Rome.”

  My mouth fell open. “I am not leaving. Did Pater say I had to leave?”

  “Well, no. But he did not know you feared for your life. He underestimated the situation in which he had placed you.”

  “No, he understood completely. I am perfectly safe now Lucullus has been removed. Believe me, I am grateful for everything you have done, but I am not leaving my home. I am safer here than I would be in Rome with people I do not know.”

  Marcus looked from me to his father and decided to stand by me. “I think you underestimate Ennia. You think her like every young girl her age, but she is not. Her pater knows that. That is why he left her here. And now the issue is resolved she will be perfectly safe. How many girls her age would have thought to deal with a situation like this in the way she did?”

  Marcus’ father nodded reluctantly. “You are right, of course. Very mature. And I do not wish to force this on you, Ennia. But I would encourage you to change your mind.”

  Relieved, and knowing I had won this battle, I relaxed into my lounge. “I thank you for your concern and for assisting us in this matter, but I assure you I will do quite well here. I am not alone. I have more than enough slaves to protect me.”

  “Slaves can turn dangerous, as this situation has proven.”

  I shrugged. “And now it is no longer dangerous. Because of you. I will make sure Pater understands just what you have done for us and of your concerns for me.”

  Our meal concluded, I saw my guests out.

  Once they were gone, I relaxed for a short while before sneaking out of the villa and heading down to find Ariaratus. I needed to hear firsthand what had happened.

  Chapter Eleven

  TYPHON

  When the dagger had entered my body it had felt like little more than a burn or a severe sting. But as the shock wore off, the pain that replaced it was like none I’d ever known before. And I was afraid. Afraid for my life.

  It hurt to know just how afraid I was. A gladiator was supposed to face death fearlessly. It was part of our code. And yet, as I drifted in and out of consciousness, I was afraid.

  What would it be like to no longer exist? I had always been, though I knew from what I had been told that the world had existed before I came into it and would go on when I left it. But for me... all I really knew was being. I had no experience with not being. And the consolation that brave gladiators were supposed to find their way to the Elysian Fields after death didn’t matter to me. I wasn’t one of them yet, and I’d proven I never would be, because I wasn’t brave. I was a terrified and crying baby, a shame to myself and my pack-mates.

  When the physician had washed out the wound, the pain I thought could get no worse, did. And had kept getting worse. Until our little she-wolf took over.

  I remembered how she’d looked when she declared she would be a physician no matter what I said. And Accalia had done just as she claimed she would... or had started that journey, in the same way I had started mine toward being a gladiator. Yet, in her instance, she stayed true to her goal. I had wavered and fallen by the wayside because of a little pain.

  When the physician had asked her to take over, I know I should have become even more afraid. Gods, she had barely begun her training and she was just a little girl. But when I looked into her eyes—eyes that looked like storm-clouds in that moment—I felt relief. The fear evaporated like dew off grass. I knew our she-wolf could do anything she set her mind to. And she’d set her mind to healing me.

  Yes, it had hurt. Gods, how much it’d hurt. But it was not as bad without the fear. It could be handled without the fear.

  The last thing I remembered seeing, before I passed out after the stitching, was her bright eyes staring into mine, trying to see right through me. I wanted to say I was all right, but my mouth wouldn’t work.

  And then, in the next instant, I was opening my eyes again, and I knew time had passed. I knew because the light was different, and I wasn’t lying on the table anymore but on a pallet in the infirmary. I knew because I was alone, and the pain was bearable.

  “Look,” someone said, “he’s awake!”

  Suddenly, there were heads above me, familiar, beloved heads all vying to get closer. If they pushed and shoved anymore they’d fall on top of me and undo all Accalia’s good work.

  “Back off,” I muttered. My voice was croaky, and I wasn’t sure I’d made myself heard. I cleared my throat and repeated my words.

  This time they were heard and the faces moved back a little.

  “Gods, we were scared you wouldn’t make it,” Asterius said, tears in his blue eyes. “How do you feel?”

  “Like some bastard stuck a dagger in my side and a twelve-year-old sewed me up.” I tried to shift positions but fresh pain had me staying still.

  “That twelve-year-old has very clever hands and knew exactly what to do. You were lucky.”

  I grudgingly agreed I was lucky, in my head but not aloud.

  “What is Luc..ullus saying happened? I heard him yelling I’d attacked him.” My voice broke on Lucullus’ name.

  All my fear returned in one overwhelming wave as I remembered who had put me here. How easily he had put me here. The bastard had made my attempts at defending myself seem like... nothing. Like I was nothing. And if I had to face him again I’d likely wet myself in renewed terror. That realisation made me feel pathetic. And feeling pathetic made my angry.

  “Aye, he claimed you attacked him,” Orion admitted in annoyance. “But when that equestrian, Natalinus, arrived and asked why you were in the tutor’s wing, Lucullus went mad. They say he almost struck the patrician, he was so out of his head.”

  “Natalinus? What...”

  “It seemed the message to the Master got through and he sent Natalinus over to investigate. As soon as he saw how crazy Lucullus was he had him in chains and out of here. Now one of the assistants is supervising us until a replacement arrives. I hope the next one’ll be better than Lucullus.”

  The fear lifted off my shoulders. Lucullus was gone. I would never have to face him again. My relief was so complete that I relaxed for the first time since waking, and my eyes grew heavy. Before I knew it, I had dropped back into nothingness again, without being aware it had happened.

  When I awoke again I was aware of severe pain in my side. I moaned and tried to reach for it. Gentle hands pushed mine away.

  “Keep still. I am trying to change your bandage. Do you want to undo my stitches?”

  I knew that voice. Accalia. I wanted to smile with delight and relief. Lucullus was gone and Accalia was here. Who cared about pain when all else was right with my world?

  Relaxing back against my straw pallet, I sighed heavily. My lips turned up at the ends.

  “You look pleased with yourself. I suppose someone told you Lucullus was gone?”

  I nodded, glad to have her reinforce what I thought my pack-mates had said. I hadn’t been sure if what I’d been told was real or a dream.

  “They took him away in chains. I wish I’d seen it.”

  I reached out and placed a hand on her narrow arm. She looked up from my wound to meet my gaze.

  “Thank you. For sewing me up and for Lucullus.” I tried to clear my throat to say more but couldn’t find water enough in my mouth to speak further.

  “I am going to feed you some ox blood soup in a moment. Will you take it, or will I have to pour it down your throat?” she sounded fierce, but
I could see the sparkle in her eyes.

  “I have had that before, haven’t I? It tasted foul.” I pulled a face to show just how bad it had been.

  She shrugged. “It is probably the yellow dock leaves and nettles Ariaratus insisted the cook put in with it. I tasted a mouthful and was suddenly really glad I did not have a dagger wound.”

  I gave a little laugh that I immediately regretted. It hurt. “Aren’t you supposed to say how good it is for me, and that it isn’t as bad as all that?”

  She shrugged again and lowered her head to go back to her work. I watched in bemusement as she removed the blood-soaked pad.

  “It looks red and inflamed still, but there are no dark, spreading lines that point to blood poisoning. There is no oozing pus, either, which Ariaratus says is a good sign. Nor is it overly hot to the touch. I think this is healing well enough.”

  “You have learned a lot in a short time,” I told her, impressed.

  She smiled at me. “I feel like my brain is overflowing. I cannot believe how much I am forcing myself to remember. Ariaratus says it is good not to have to repeat himself. Past assistants he has had required being told something several times before they remembered it. I hear it once and... well, unless I am overtired. Then I do not hold onto knowledge as well.”

  I couldn’t help it, I just had to stroke her soft hair.

  When I did, she seemed surprised and then pleased, her blue-grey eyes turning soft as she looked at me. “I was so afraid you would die. Do not ever do that to me again, all right?”

  I grinned at her, feeling very proud that she was afraid for me. It meant she cared. Maybe when I was old enough I would ask the Master for her hand in marriage.

  Nearly swallowing my own tongue in surprise, I wondered where that thought had come from. I didn’t even like girls, and I was already thinking about marrying this one? It must be whatever they were giving me for the pain. Or the pain itself. Or the relief of having Lucullus gone. There could be a dozen reasons why I had thought such a ridiculous thing.

  And yet, for all its ridiculousness, I was thinking it again. Wondering what being married might be like. No one I knew had ever married, certainly not my foster mother. But I knew that if you found the right person, and in the right situation, marriage could be a very good thing.

  And Accalia felt like the right person. I loved how brave and determined she was. It was like she never let anything get in her way. If she had been faced with Lucullus she would have spat in his face.

  My heart went cold in my chest. Just the image of this little girl standing up to that mad monster made the blood in my veins turn to ice. I was glad he was gone. I was glad this fragile creature, with the heart of a lion, would never have to face that kind of evil.

  Accalia looked up and tipped her head to one side, studying me closely. “What?”

  I shrugged. “Nothing. Just glad Lucullus is gone.”

  She smiled back at me and stroked my cheek. “They said he wanted to do things to you... I... do not know what. But he did not succeed, did he?”

  I smiled at her and turned to kiss her palm. She jerked away a little in surprise. I felt a blush burning its way right to the tips of my ears. What’d come over me? I didn’t even kiss my foster mother.

  “No... I tried to fight him and failed. Maybe if I’d let him do what he wanted I wouldn’t be in this much pain now.”

  “Do not say such a thing! One of the master’s gladiators would never take the easy way out. You did exactly what you were bred to do. What you were meant to do. You bravely took on a man much bigger than yourself, and this wound is proof of it.”

  I looked away, ashamed. “I wasn’t brave. I... have never felt so afraid.”

  Accalia huffed in annoyance. “Even I know that being brave does not mean you do not feel fear. Being brave is feeling afraid and yet still doing something about it. You tried to fight him. That makes you brave.”

  I wasn’t sure I agreed, but I liked the way I felt when Accalia looked at me as she was doing now. As if she admired me. As if I was Hercules and I had won out against the dreaded Hydra. Like I was her hero.

  With that happy thought I felt my eyelids begin to droop. And once more I was in the hands of Morpheus.

  Days passed into weeks and summer was upon us. Every day Accalia came to check on me and we talked and laughed as if we’d known each other our whole lives. My pack-mates came too, of course. But it was Accalia’s visits I looked forward to most.

  I was told all the gossip and how the master had sent an old gladiator bred by his own father, and trained in our barracks over thirty years ago, to replace Lucullus. He was a ferocious beast of a man, though not as tall as the students of today, but he was fair and followed the master’s training schedule to the letter. But what won everyone to his side was the fact he didn’t show a wit of madness.

  By the time I was out of bed and moving around, the infirmary had largely been emptied. Those boys previously caused injury by Lucullus returned to their training with little sign of their suffering. And except for a few cuts and a dislocated shoulder, the infirmary stayed remarkably quiet.

  On the day before I was to return to the dormitory, Accalia came to remove my bandage for the last time. It had healed remarkably quickly, Ariaratus had told me on one of his rare visits, usually when he was seeing to another patient. For the most part he’d left me in the capable hands of his assistant.

  The place was deserted and only the sound of fighting boys out on the training field broke the silence. I had been waiting impatiently for what felt like hours for Accalia to come and proclaim me well enough to return to my pack-mates and my training. But part of me also dreaded the moment because it would mean I would no longer get to see Accalia every day. No, I might see her, but I wouldn’t get the opportunity to talk to her or laugh with her, or stroke her hand with mine... or feel her cup my cheek in her small, cool palm.

  I knew the signs, most lads joked about them and made fun of anyone they heard of who exhibited the symptoms. I was in love. And it was every bit as painful and wonderful as the jokers claimed it was. No, the jokers didn’t call it wonderful. That was a word my foster mother had labelled it. Once she’d smiled softly, her eyes getting a far-away look in them when she talked about how wonderful love could be.

  I hadn’t questioned her about how she knew. Back then it was of little interest to me. I’d been sure it would never happen to me. Now I knew firsthand how wonderful it felt. And how much it hurt when you knew circumstance was about to separate you from the one you cared about.

  When Accalia entered the infirmary and saw me pacing the room waiting for her, she grinned. “Anxious to get out of here?”

  I grinned back and sat down on my pallet. “How’d you know?”

  She met my gaze, her eyes the soft grey-blue of wispy rainclouds on a summer’s day. “You have been asking me every day if you could return to your training. Anyone would think you were keen to be rid of me.”

  My fingers closed over hers as they made to push up my tunic. “Never rid of you, Accalia. I’ve decided that one day we’ll marry.”

  Her eyes showed her surprise and then flickered to something else so quickly I couldn’t recognise it. Sadness? Regret? Then she smiled.

  “Why would I marry you? I do not even like boys!” she said with a lopsided grin that told me she was joking. “You are all rude and filthy creatures.”

  “And you mind filth? I have seen you elbow-deep in blood and gore, and happy to be there.” I smirked at her and let her tug up my tunic to reveal the white bandage that wound around my waist.

  She undid the knot and began unwinding the wrap. Next she removed the pad over the stitches. Finally, after inspecting them closely, she took small shears from her leather pouch and snipped away the threads, making me hiss with pain when she yanked free some of the thread stuck under the skin.

  “Don’t be a baby. You did not complain this much when I was sewing up this gaping hole.” She tutted and wiped at
her sweating brow.

  It was summer and the little room was hot and still. I was sweating too, but it barely registered. I was used to handling extremes of weather. In winter we were given only one thin blanket to keep us warm and were expected to train in snow and sleet. At first it had been hard. Too hard. But then I toughened up like all the rest, and now I barely felt the heat or cold.

  But I didn’t like to see Accalia suffering. So I used the discarded wrapping to wipe her brow while she worked.

  “That is helpful. Maybe I should ask Ariaratus if his assistant could have an assistant.”

  I laughed. It didn’t hurt when I did anymore. “Please! I’m the one who causes injuries not heals them.”

  Accalia pinched my skin and I yelped.

  “Who is causing who pain right now?” she quipped.

  I laughed again. My heart hurt as I did because I would miss the easy playfulness we’d developed. From now on the only time I would properly be able to talk to her was by our fire. And there I’d be sharing her attention with my pack-mates.

  “Did I hurt you?” she demanded, her face filled with concern.

  Had my sadness shown on my face? It must have.

  “I will miss this. I will miss you,” I admitted, feeling the blush burn up my neck and into my cheeks.

  She grimace and lowered her eyes. “So will I. But it will be good to have you joining your pack at the fireside again. It is very boring without you. But the others will likely complain about having you back because they will have to share the food four ways instead of three.”

  Reminded of her treats, my eyes widened in hope. She laughed and pulled out a carefully wrapped parcel. Inside was a flaky pastry filled with raspberry conserve.