by Nhys Glover
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
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
EPILOGUE
Gladiator 1: Typhon
An Ancient Roman Reverse Harem Romance
Nhys Glover
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. With the exception of historical events and people used as background for the story, or those clearly in the public domain, the names, characters and incidents portrayed in this work come wholly from the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental
Published by Belisama Press
© Nhys Glover 2018
The right of Nhys Glover to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
This book is copyright. All rights reserved.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please delete it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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OTHER BOOKS BY NHYS GLOVER
ANCIENT ROMAN HISTORICAL ROMANCES:
Liquid Fire
The Barbarian's Mistress
Lionslayer's Woman (Sequel to Liquid Fire)
White Raven's Lover (Sequel to Barbarian's Mistress)
The Gladiator's Bride (Sequel to White Raven's Lover)
WEREWOLF KEEP TRILOGY:
Guardian of Werewolf Keep
Imprisoned at Werewolf Keep
Defiance at Werewolf Keep
Insane (A novella)
NEW ATLANTIS TIME TRAVEL SERIES:
Nine Lives (Cara/Jac)
The Dreamer's Prince (Jane/Julio)
Savage (Faith/ Luke)
Shared Soul (Maggie/Travis)
Bitter Oath (Liv/ Rene)
The Titan Drowns (Eilish/Max, Karl/Lizzie, Pia/Marco)
The Key (Kat/Bart)
Pieces (Krista/Dirk)
Second Chance (Bree/Hakon)
Watcher (Jin/Rafe)
Vision of You (Ellen/Duke)
Osiris (Takhara/Dan)
Causality (Willow/Jarvidh)
Gods of Time (Teagan/Jason, Lucien/Alba)
Book of Seeds (Shay/Cy)
SCORPIO SONS SF/SHIFTER ROMANCE SERIES:
1: Colton 2: Connor 3: Cooper 4: Chase
5: Cameron 6: Caleb 7: Conrad 8: Charles
GREYWORLD SERIES:
(Paranormal Sweet Romance)
1: The Anomaly
2: Mallory
3: Earth Angel
4: Crag Wraith
REVERSE HAREM FANTASIES:
THE AIRLUDS TRILOGY:
The Sacrifice
The Chosen One
Goddess Unbound
THE AIRSHAN CHRONICLES
The Five
Daemon
The Devourer
OTHERS:
The Way Home (Ghost Romance)
Caught in a Dream (SF Sweet Romance)
Labyrinth of Light (New Age Inspirational)
Find out more about Nhys and her books here:
www.nhysglover.com
Chapter One
Spring 58 CE Fulginiae Umbria ITALIA
ACCALIA
I remember every moment of that fateful night as if it were yesterday. Pater and I sat on the paved terrace that overlooked what he called his ‘kingdom’. He would always laugh when he called it that, but it had taken a long time before I understood that our people did not approve of kings and that our land was part of the mighty Roman Empire. He might own this small part of the empire, which had belonged to our family since the very early days of the Republic, but it was by no means his kingdom.
On this mild spring night, which would be our last together until autumn, we looked down over his kingdom and enjoyed our time together. My heart ached. I was twelve years old, and this was to be the first time Pater had left me since my mater died two years before. The six months he would be gone seemed like an eternity.
It was a sign that I was growing up that he felt he could leave me now. I did not need to be treated like a baby anymore. Girls my age could do well enough without their paters, as long as they had their handmaiden and house slaves to look after them. So I was both proud and miserable that night when the sky seemed overcrowded with blinking specks of light pressing down on us.
“Look, Pater, a fire!” I pointed to a small glowing spot in the midst of the copse of trees just below us.
Pater turned from contemplating the stars to studying the glow in amongst the trees.
“Ah, they have started their small rebellion again, have they? Good enough,” Pater said with amusement.
“Small rebellion?”
“You know that I am the proud owner of the only breeding and training centre for gladiators in the empire, do you not?” he answered without really answering.
I nodded, confused. What had that to do with a fire in the forest?
“Below us there,” he continued, pointing down the hill and to our left. “Beyond that copse of trees is the boys’ barracks. When the biggest and strongest boys in my breeding program reach eight years they leave their mothers and go to those barracks. There they begin their training to become the best gladiators in the empire.” His narrow chest puffed out in pride.
Impatiently, I waited for him to go on. I knew all this. But patience was a virtue of noble womanhood, so to prove to Pater that I was almost a woman and becoming a noblewoman, I bit my tongue to control the urge to keep him on task. I needed to know what that fire meant and why it gave Pater so much amusement.
“Each year I have a fresh crop of six to eight boys who start their training. Nearly five years ago, four boys entered the barracks and immediately began to stand out from the rest. They have been excelling ever since. Taller, bigger built, fitter and more intelligent than the others, I have watched them with pride every step of the way. By the time they are ready for the arena they will be unbeatable!”
I could not stop myself sighing with frustration. I had no time for boys and their fighting. What had this to do with the fire in the woods?
Pater looked at me and smiled indulgently. “Ah, sweet Ennia, I can see I am stretching your patience. But you are doing well, and so I am about to reward you with an answer.
“Toward the end of last summer, those four started escaping the barracks at night. It is no mean feat to do so, I assure you. About once a week, on warm, dry nights, they would escape and go into the woods. To sit by a fire and feel free.”
I could not contain my patience a moment longer. “But they are not free, Pater. They are slaves. How could they think such a thing? Why do you not punish them if they are runaways?”
Pater smiled indulgently. “They are not runaways, my darling daughter. They sit by their fire for a few hours, and then they go back to their beds in the barracks. I said they felt free, I did not say they were free. I have known what they were doing from the first. The guards
on duty at the barracks informed me immediately. Now all the guards know, and they turn a blind eye to the pack’s activities on my orders. The doctores and tutors do not know, of course, as they cannot be seen to be getting special privileges.
“I have indulged them in this way because they are the best of the best. Boys like these will grow into superb men, if their spirits remain intact. I allow them a taste of freedom, a taste of rebellion within safe boundaries, so they are happy to remain within those boundaries at other times. Do you understand?”
I frowned. I did not. What did it matter if they were happy to remain in those boundaries or not? They were slaves. What made them happy should not matter. Or that is what I had always been taught.
But I loved my nurse turned handmaiden, Minerva, and I liked it when she was happy. She was always extra good to me when she was happy. And when she was sad I tried to do what I could to make her smile. I had no idea why, because it should not matter. But it did.
“They are better students if they are happy?” I answered, not sure if I did understand.
“Yes, in part. Boys, free or slave, pleb or patrician, they all have a wildness in them. A need to rebel against authority. If you let them rebel safely, they grow into stronger men. If you deny them even a modicum of freedom, you break their spirit. And a gladiator cannot afford to have his spirit broken. That is why for centuries our best gladiators have been captured warriors. Their spirits have not been broken yet.”
His face became alive with enthusiasm “You have never seen anything like such men fighting in the arena. The fury and passion they display. After seeing such a demonstration of warrior spirit and bravery you are uplifted for days. Their triumph is the triumph over death itself!
“But they must be treated properly or they will rebel as Spartacus did. Or refuse to fight for us. No, a man with spirit must be given a reason to fight. Punishment goes only so far with men like that.
“And so it is with our boys. Most never rebel in such an overt way as the Wolf Pack is doing. None have the nerve to try to escape, no less succeed. I see great things ahead for them. And their first initiation will prove it this summer. Great things! I wish I was going to be here to witness it.”
“Wolf Pack?” I asked, my own spirit lifted by the idea of rebellious boys who would one day become Pater’s greatest triumph.
Pater laughed, a loud guffaw that made me laugh in turn. He had stopped laughing like this after Mater died giving birth to my dead brother two years ago, but in recent times he had started to laugh again. I wanted to make him laugh again.
“As you know, the founders of Rome, Romulus and Remus, were suckled by a she-wolf as babes. Wolves hold a special place in the hearts of all Romans for their fierceness and intelligence. And their ability to work as part of a pack is often considered a valuable trait, especially for soldiers.
“But it is not part of our training to encourage strong bonds between our boys, because each man must learn to fight for himself. If he becomes too attached to another, and one day faces him in the arena in a fight to the death, his heart will not be in it. And the audience will sense it. Whether he wins or loses, the people will know, and he will be penalised for his lack of spirit.
There was that word again. Spirit. Pater used it a lot, and it seemed important. I needed to understand more about this spirit. It seemed to be different from the spirits we honoured every day, those that dwelled in places like the river, or our ancestors who remain with us as our protective guardians. There was also the Lar of our family, the spirit of our family, which was essential to us. But again, I did not think this was the spirit he referred to.
This spirit seemed to have something to do with will and strength of character. It was hard for me to understand it properly. Concepts were always hard for me to understand. I understood things I could see and touch far better than ideas.
“For all that, these four have, from the very first, formed themselves into a formidable pack. Partly it is because two of them were nursed by the same woman. Yet it goes far deeper than that. It is as if they are brothers, though none share a blood connection.
“Early on, because of their fierceness, their bravery and their bond, they were jokingly called the Wolf Pack. The name has remained theirs ever since. And nothing divides them.”
“What happens when they have to fight each other? As you said, they would not fight well against one of their own.”
“If they become the gladiators I expect, they will be the jewel of my troupe. As such, I will make sure they never have to fight each other. But if it ever happens, they will be trained well enough to put glory above brotherhood. Glory is everything! That is something that distinguishes my gladiators from the conquered warriors. My men know what is important. For all they must occupy the lowest strata of society, no better than dramatists and prostitutes, they live by the Roman code of honour and understand that to seek glory is to excel. We inculcate those values into them from the moment they enter their training.”
I cocked my head to the side, trying to understand this new idea. Glory. Yes, I understood what glory was. But was it more valuable than brotherhood? I know Rome was built on glory but...
Then I remembered the story of Romulus and Remus, the twin brothers who eventually fought over where the site of Rome should be. Romulus had slain his brother over it. Brotherhood, in that instance, was not valued as much as... glory? No, the site of a city was hardly glorious. Was it? Rome had certainly become a glorious city, but why was its site a matter to fight and die over? I was confused.
Pater reached across from his lounge to mine and patted my head. “I can see this is beyond you, whether because you are a girl or because of your age, I know not. Let it be enough that I know best.”
I nodded. This at least I was sure of. Pater always knew what was best. He was a king to his people—if not in name then certainly in respect. None defied him.
Except these boys... this wolf-pack of boys. Were they not defying Pater by leaving their barracks without permission? Yet Pater permitted it because it made them stronger. I did not understand. I could not understand.
But I was curious about these slaves. Though I had no time for boys because they were dirty, rude and arrogant, I was curious about these particular boys. And because of it my fate was set.
Chapter Two
TYPHON
I relive that long ago night often in my dreams. We sat around our secret fire, as our Wolf Pack often did on mild nights, revelling in our small rebellion, which seemed so significant to boys about to turn thirteen summers old.
That night Asterius handed me a torn-off haunch from the cooked rabbit he’d just removed from the spit. I devoured it as if I hadn’t eaten in days. It wasn’t the fact I was hungry that made me relish the meat but the fact we had caught, butchered and cooked it ourselves that made it taste so much better than anything we got in the barracks.
Not that there was plenty of food there. Just enough to keep us strong and fighting fit, never enough to keep us satisfied. A warrior... a gladiator... was at his razor-edge best when he was hungry. That was why we were so dangerous to those overfed, lazy slaves we saw around us. None of them could be expected to fight with the kind of focus we had.
“Just the one tonight,” Talos said sadly, already finished his share and eyeing Orion’s piece, which he still held in his hand.
Orion always made it seem as if he didn’t much care if there was meat or not. He said that if you let others see your need they would use it against you. Even your need for food. Even here among those he trusted most in the world; those he knew would die for him if it was required of them. I didn’t understand him.
We four were all named after giants. All the males in the breeding program were given names of powerful heroes or fearsome monsters. The Master said that it was our fate to live up to our names.
I looked more closely at our unofficial leader. Orion was a giant huntsman so favoured by Zeus that after he was killed by Artemis h
e was turned into a constellation of stars.
Our Orion had pale hair like the stars and blue eyes more like the sky on a summer’s day rather than at night. He was our huntsman, and his snares always gave us food, even if it was only one rabbit like tonight.
I smiled at Talos, who was still eyeing Orion’s shoulder as it dripped juices onto the grass. His namesake had been a giant fashioned from bronze and given to King Minos of Crete. His main purpose had been to protect Europa from pirates.
Talos’ skin was the colour of bronze because his father had been a Nubian and his mother was a pale skinned Alan. He was therefore a few shades lighter than his ebony skinned father. He was also uncannily like his namesake, in that he was a natural protector. He couldn’t stand seeing anything abused.
A few years ago a lad from the outside had joined the barracks for a while. He had been an odd sort, more girl than boy in his ways and far behind the rest of us in our training. That had made him the brunt of jokes and bullying by the other lads, especially the older ones. Talos had taken one look at the lad, who seemed to become even more outrageous the more he was victimized, and immediately adopted him into our pack, providing him with our protection.
Orion was mad about it at first. Our pack couldn’t show weakness of any kind, and saving lame ducks could be seen as a weakness. But he’d been won over by Marcus soon enough. And we’d protected him for the full year he was with us. I missed his weirdness when he left. There was never a dull moment when he was around.
Then there was my brother Asterius, although he was not my brother by blood. We called each other brother because we had fed from the same breast—his birth mother’s—after my mother died bringing me into the world.
