Typhon: An Ancient Roman Reverse Harem Romance (Gladiator Book 1)

by Nhys Glover

  But I nodded silently and swapped places with him. Typhon, through pain-glazed eyes, saw what was happening.

  “You... going to get... even... with me for saying... you couldn’t become a phys...ician?” he mumbled between pants.

  I grinned, though my heart was breaking. “Would I do such a thing? Do not worry, I have stitched up many a carcass in my time. How hard could this be in comparison?”

  His look of horror had me grimacing in regret. It was no time for teasing.

  “I will do well enough, Typhon. I promise.”

  And so I did. And though my hands shook and I felt every agonised cry as if it were my own, I dug the needle into the skin and rotated my wrist as I had been taught. The curve of the fine needle dug smoothly in under the skin and came up on the other side. I repeated the action with the skin on the other side of the wound before gently pulling the two sides together.

  “Slowly! If you put too much pressure on it you will tear the flesh,” Ariaratus advised.

  Nodding, I slowed a little. Yet I was desperate to have done with this torture. I could not stand the moans and whimpers Typhon was making, even though I could tell he was trying hard not to show his pain in front of me.

  I tied off the first stitch and then moved on to the next. In what felt like an eternity, I completed the final knot and severed the thread for the last time.

  The bleeding had eased the further into the neat row I went, but my hands and arms were covered in blood, as was the front of my tunic. Soggy piles of cloth littered the floor. I could not believe one person could lose so much blood and survive.

  When it was over, I looked down at Typhon and smiled. “You will always have a memento to remind you of me now. I hope you wear it like a wreath of honour.”

  Typhon looked about to pass out but he smiled up at me. “Had I known what kind of pain you’d shortly dole out to me, I would’ve thrown you into the fire.”

  “Fire is good for closing flesh. Would you have preferred that?” I teased.

  Typhon’s eyes closed. “No... You did well.”

  I looked up to meet Asterius’ gaze. His bright blue eyes were intent on me. “Thank you. I can see now you were truthful when you said you never let anything stand in your way. Your place with us will always be assured.”

  I nodded my gratitude, though I already knew I had a place with them. It had happened that first night, and it had nothing to do with the food I brought them. But this felt good too.

  “Where is Lucullus?” I asked gingerly, as I helped clean up the bloody mess we’d made.

  “Who knows and who cares. This has gone too far,” Orion muttered furiously.

  Ariaratus looked at the boy and shook his head. “Don’t do anything rash. A message has been sent to the Master and he will respond shortly. Once he does, all will be well.”

  I nodded my agreement, wishing Pater had already taken action. He had to have received my missive by now and have responded. He had to have!

  “He needs ox-blood soup,” Ariaratus told the slave who supervised the cooking for the barracks. “It will help him regain his strength. As much as he can tolerate.”

  I knew this was a standard remedy for blood-loss and I hoped it would be enough for Typhon. He had looked so pale by the time I was finished. As if all his blood was gone. How could ingesting an ox’s blood do anything to replace his own?

  As we staggered up the hill together, the senior walking ahead of us through the darkness carrying the bag, my teacher turned to me with a glint in his tired eyes.

  “You know those boys, don’t you?” he asked quietly so our third could not hear.

  “How... How did you know?” I was too tired to dissemble. And Ariaratus already knew most of my terrible secrets.

  “The way you looked when we approached the room. The way those boys moved to assist you. The exchanges with your patient and his brother. A blind man could have noticed.”

  I nodded and slumped my shoulders a little more. “Pater calls them the Wolf Pack. They are special to him and he gives them privileges denied others. Like sitting beside a fire at night when they should be locked away and abed. Before Pater left, he told me about them, and I went to meet them. They know I am a girl, but they do not know I am... who I am. When I said I wanted to be a physician they laughed at me. That is why I came to you.”

  “Ah, now those comments make sense. You are playing a very dangerous game, Cassius. These aren’t house-slaves. They’re bred for their wildness and violence. You may not wish to remember who and what you are, but it matters. And one day it may end in tragedy.”

  I nodded. I knew I courted disaster every day I kept up my charade. But I could not give it up. Not now. None of it. Not my path as a healer or my part in the pack. They were now more important to me than anything. Maybe if Pater had not gone away it would have been different. But he had, and I had had nothing and no one to fill the void he left. Not until I found Ariaratus and my pack.

  “I trust them as I trust you. And as my mother’s death proves, tragedy awaits us all at every turn. It may end badly, but in the middle it will be... worthwhile. Tonight I proved that to myself. You have to admit I did well.”

  He nodded sagely. “You did, indeed. Sometimes it is hard to remember you’re only twelve years old. You were born an old soul, I think.”

  “An old soul?” I asked, interested despite my exhaustion.

  “Yes. Many believe that our souls do not die with our bodies or go on to the Elysian Plains. They return to take up residence in a new body. And sometimes a soul has returned many, many times and they bring with them the knowledge and wisdom from their past lives. That is what it seems to be with you. When you came to me, I thought this was a childish lark for you, but very quickly I changed my mind. You are far older than your body’s age indicates. And I do not teach you, as much as I remind you of what you have known before. I hope it serves you well this lifetime.”

  For a long time we were silent. I had never considered such an idea before. But sewing up bodies had seemed a natural thing to me. Not so much the herbal lore, but the surgery. Yes, I felt as if I had done that before. And sometimes I felt more like a boy than a girl, as if my soul was placed in the wrong body at birth. And yet... how I felt about my pack was not as one male might feel about another. I was only too conscious of being a girl around them, no matter how I disguised myself. It felt good.

  “Why did he do it? Lucullus,” I asked, changing the subject.

  Ariaratus shook his head. “The man is not right in the mind. I realised that when I took him aside after the incident at the training field. He seems to think that because the Master is not here he has free rein over what happens in the barracks. He and young Nero would get on well together, I think. Before one killed the other, of course.”

  I was horrified to hear such criticism of the Imperator. He was a god, after all. He was not the same as a petty slave who had grown too big for his sandals. I knew I should censor him. He was a slave, my pater’s slave, and I was a patrician, the daughter of a loyal citizen of Rome. But I was too tired to do any such thing. And even I had heard the rumours about Nero.

  Chapter Ten

  ACCALIA

  Publius Valerius Natalinus arrived on horseback the following morning. I had luckily slept in, unable to rouse myself after the harrowing ordeal of the evening before. My body and not just my soul felt aged and infirmed. The only thing that finally roused me was the idea that I needed to check on Typhon and make sure he had not suffered any ill-effects from my work yesterday. People did sicken and die after a wound such as he sustained. And he had lost a lot of blood.

  “Mistress, Little Mistress,” Minerva cried, rushing into the room as I began to don my clean tunic for the day. She saw what I was putting on and shook her head fervently. “No... No... you must not. We have a special visitor. You must greet him, as he has come specifically to see you.”

  She gave me the name of our closest neighbour, a man I had met on many occasi
ons in the last two years when I went abroad with Pater. I had met his eldest son, Marcus, on those occasions also, and had enjoyed his company almost as much as the Wolf Pack’s. He was impish, outrageous and incorrigible.

  At one event we had sat on the rooftop with a bowl of crushed ice—it was winter at the time—and blown ice down on arriving visitors using hollowed out reeds. People had looked skyward, thinking it was about to hail or snow. No one saw us, and we almost fell off the roof we laughed so hard. Only the cold drove us inside.

  “Quickly, Minerva. My finest gown and my wig. I must play at being a girl again, it seems.”

  Within a very short time I was ready to be presented to our guest. Or guests, so it turned out. Because Marcus had come along with his father, I was pleased to see.

  Natalinus was an imposing man, tall and elegant with prominent nose and brows and brown eyes so deep-set they almost disappeared from sight beneath that brow. He seemed very old to me, although most adults did. I judged him to be in his forties, the same age as Pater.

  “Ennia Corva, how regal you look my dear child. You need not have gone to this much trouble to greet me,” Natalinus said, taking in my ornate wig.

  I smiled benignly. “I have few visitors of your lofty position, sir. I wanted to look my best.”

  Marcus’ mouth dropped open and then he grinned, expecting this to be some elaborate farce.

  “Would you like to sit and take some wine. The ride here must have been taxing.”

  Again Marcus’ mouth dropped open. He was a small, dark-haired boy, who looked enough like me to be my brother, except that his eyes were brown where mine were blue-grey. He was the same age as me.

  I looked at him now with different eyes than I had in the past. Before he had been a rarity to me—a boy—but now I knew plenty of boys, and some I counted as friends. Compared to them, Marcus seemed girlish and too polished. My pack-mates were like roughly carved wooden mugs where Marcus was like a finely cut glass goblet.

  “Thank you, my dear. I can see that your pater need not have worried about you being left here to fend for yourself. You are quite the lady of the villa.”

  We had entered the triclinium and taken lounges, me in the centre and Marcus and his father at right angles to me and opposite each other. In the centre was a low table onto which slaves quickly put trays of food. A goblet of wine was presented to Natalinus, while Marcus and I had watered-wine.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” I asked after a suitable pause.

  “I received a missive from your pater yesterday. In it he addressed issues that were of great concern to him. He asked that I come and determine the situation and address it for him, if necessary.”

  I let out a sigh of relief. This was the perfect solution. Why had I not thought of it myself? Of course Pater would call on our closest neighbour to help with his slave problem. Natalinus had even higher status than Pater, being of the Equestrian class. None but the senators and emperor himself were more highly ranked.

  “I am relieved to hear it. I sent word to Pater as soon as I discovered what this terrible Lucullus has been doing down in the barracks. Yesterday he stabbed one of the boys. A boy called Typhon.”

  Marcus’ head came up and his brown eyes grew huge. “Typhon? Part of the Wolf Pack?”

  I nodded, frowning. “You know him? How?”

  “Did you not hear about my adventures when I was nine? Pater wanted to make a man of me and so he sent me to your barracks for a year. It was very educational. Typhon and the Wolf Pack were good to me where others were not.” His expression closed and I could see pain there. I would need to get this story out of him at another time.

  Marcus’ father shifted uneasily on his lounge, clearly not comfortable with the telling of that tale. Again I wondered why it had happened. It was not the done thing to put a patrician’s son in a barracks with slave boys training to become gladiators.

  “Is the boy all right? How did it occur, do you know?” Natalinus asked me.

  I nodded. “He is now, I think. But his dagger wound was quite severe. Luckily it missed vital organs though. How it happened is unclear. Lucullus was attempting to get Typhon alone in his quarters and the boy was reluctant to go, so the man stabbed him. Lucullus nearly incited a revolt last week by forcing the newest recruits to do double the laps they were previously expected to do. A poor lad fell exhausted to the ground and Lucullus was about to beat him when others stepped in. Then the seniors filed onto the field, and who knows what would have happened if Ariaratus, our physician, had not taken that moment to step in.”

  “Your pater enclosed a list of injuries and ailments the boys have sustained since this Lucullus took up his role.”

  “Yes, I enclosed that list. And it has only become longer since it was written. I fear for my life, if I must be honest. Those boys have never been a problem, but that slave is undoing all Pater’s good work and making even the mildest slave want to defend himself.”

  “And these are not mild slaves,” Natalinus said.

  I nodded. “They are not. They will one day be the best gladiators in the empire. Unless Lucullus breaks them first.” I sounded bitter, I knew it. But how else was I supposed to sound when I had spent last evening sewing up my friend.

  “I will go to the barracks and talk to the slaves there. I may also need to speak to this Ariaratus. I am so sorry you have been left to live your life in such fear. Your pater should have sent you to your relations in Rome. He counted on his estate running as it always did in the past when he was away. But your Mater was here then, and she did much more than he realised. Now this...”

  I felt the blood drain away from my face. I had not expected this turn of affairs. “Pater simply made an error in judgement when he brought in that gladiator to take over from Hector. It was just poor timing, coming just as he was preparing to leave, and the man had an excellent reputation. He may well have been an excellent doctores in a gladiator ludus, but these are boys. You cannot expect boys to handle the rigors placed on adults.”

  “I agree completely. But that does not negate my concerns for you being here alone. Your pater made another error in judgement leaving you, I think.”

  I shook my head strenuously, almost dislodging my wig. “I am quite all right. My concerns are for Pater’s pride and joy. His program has taken many generations to perfect. It must be protected at all costs.”

  “Do not worry yourself, my dear. I will correct this problem immediately. But I cannot in all good conscience leave you here to deal with the repercussions.”

  I sat up and put my feet on the floor, determined to make the most of what little size I had. Ariaratus said I was an old soul, and I needed to be that old soul now or I would lose the freedom I had gained. That could not be allowed to happen.

  “Sir, if you can get rid of Lucullus and put one of the graduates of the school in his place, all will be well. Can the man be sold off? What did Pater suggest be done with him?”

  “Sold off. If it is as bad as you believe it to be, then I have been given authority to sell him off and put another in his place. Your pater is making arrangements as we speak to have one of his old gladiators, now a freedman and retired, come in for the short term. If it proves necessary.”

  “It is necessary. Do you think I have exaggerated?” I huffed out in fury.

  “No, of course not, my dear. But you are a young and impressionable girl, all alone, who has to depend on the gossip of slaves. They are known to exaggerate. It may not be as bad as you fear.”

  “The man was heard to say that he did not care about Pater’s training program. Pater was not here and he was in charge. He would do as he liked. Does that sound like exaggeration? I assure you, the man is not sane. Power has gone to his head.”

  If Natalinus had been close enough, he would have patted me on the head at that moment. Marcus, who saw that steam was coming out of my ears, stepped in to smooth things over.

  “I think Ennia is right to be concerne
d, if he has stabbed Typhon. I told you about him and the others in the Wolf Pack. They are valuable slaves, Pater. Killing them for pleasure... That is not good business.”

  It was an argument Pater would approve, but for me it was nonsense. What mattered was Typhon’s life and the misery being inflicted on those boys by that monster.

  “Will you come down to the barracks with me, son?” Natalinus asked, finishing off his wine and standing. “I need to get this issue resolved.”

  I wanted to go too, but I knew I could not. Not as Ennia. So I looked at Marcus and hoped that his friendship and loyalty to the Wolf Pack would be sufficient to gain us his help.

  He nodded at my wordless plea. “I will, Pater. It feels a long time since I was there. I will enjoy seeing the looks on some of their faces when they realise who I am. After all, back then I was simply one of them.”

  His father sighed heavily. “It was a mistake to have sent you there. I regret it. No patrician should be subjected to that treatment. Sparta might have made their citizens into warriors that way but Rome, an even grander civilization, does not subject its children to such abuse.

  I watched with bated breath as the two rode off down the hill to the barracks, their two body guards at their sides. I sent a slave to Ariaratus to tell him to get down to the barracks, and to make sure our neighbour understood just how bad the situation was.

  The next hours crawled by so slowly I wondered fleetingly if the sun had stopped still in the sky. Then, when I was just about to walk down to the barracks to find out what was happening, my neighbours rode back up the hill.

  It was noon and I had a meal laid out in readiness. While my visitors ate, I waited impatiently to find out the news.

  “As soon as this Lucullus knew of my arrival he came to me, making excuses. When he declared the boy Typhon had attacked him, unprovoked, I asked why the lad was in the tutor’s wing at all. That was when he totally changed his tune and began ranting, his face so red I thought he might suffer apoplexy. The man declared I had no right to come to his ludus and ask questions of him. The absurdity of his behaviour and claims would have been laughable had it not been such a serious situation.