The Champion (20 page)

“Too much wine can’t be good for you when you’ve lost so much blood.”

“Can I come in?” Pelonia said from the doorway. A tiny woman, she looked like a fawn entering a cage of lions.

Caros crossed to meet his wife. He bent down to welcome her with a kiss before he followed her into the corridor.

“I need to lie down.” Suddenly weak, Alexius dropped the cup in Quintus’s direction who barely managed to catch the ceramic mug before it shattered on the floor. Alexius stretched out on his couch, hating the lack of strength invading his limbs.

“Alexius?” Pelonia had returned. She leaned over him and placed a kiss on his cheek. She smelled of cloves and other faint spices. A dark beauty with smooth olive skin and dark hair, she had huge, doe-brown eyes that bore a striking family resemblance to Tibi’s. “I haven’t much time. Can you hear me?”

He nodded. “Yes, but if I didn’t know better I’d think my friends betrayed me and plied me with mandragora.”

A brief silence confirmed his suspicion. Anger raked
though him. Glaring at Quintus and Caros, he struggled to sit up.

“Alexius, be at ease,” Pelonia said. “Remus gave you the root in the wine. Quintus fetched you water.”

Pelonia’s gentle hand on his shoulder was too much to fight against. He lay back down, steaming in frustration and drug-induced weakness. “I have to find Tibi!”

“I know. We will. I promise. Adiona told me what you’ve done for my cousin this past week. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I’m here because I want you to rest. The hour since you came home isn’t enough. You’ve done all that you can for now. I’m going to visit Tibi’s sister, Tiberia. Perhaps she knows Tibi’s whereabouts or can help us look.”

“That shrew doesn’t love Tibi.” His head listed on the pillow. “She won’t care.”

“I know she does, but sometimes these situations are…difficult.” She brushed his hair off his brow. “You do believe
I
love Tibi, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then trust me. I’m going to do everything in my power to find her. That’s why you need to be strong for when she’s home.”

“It’s time,” Remus interrupted. “If I don’t begin now, the mandragora will begin to wear off before I’m finished.”

Alexius closed his eyes. “Promise to send word.”

“I promise.” He felt Pelonia’s small hand squeeze his. “From the moment I hear the first murmur.”

Alexius awoke groggy from the effects of the mandragora. His skull ached and his side throbbed. He vaguely recalled Remus announcing that he’d ripped several stitches. He felt cleaner—someone had washed
off the first few layers of grime from his arms, face and throat.

He opened his eyes and took in the room. It was almost dark, nearly the exact time of day he’d woken yesterday to find…

“Tibi!” He bolted into a sitting position. Pain lanced his entire body.

“She’s not here,” Velus said. “Lie back down.”

“Has there been any word? Has Pelonia returned?”

“None yet.” The steward pressed a cup into Alexius’s hand. “The physician said to drink as much of this as possible.”

Rubbing his head, Alexius refused. “The last drink he gave me was laced with that cursed sleeping root.”

“This is water with lemon.”

He eyed the cup with distrust. “You’re
certain
there’s been no word?” he asked over the rim.

“Not one.” Velus lit a lamp, casting a small circle of light around the side table and across the pillows on the sleeping couch. “Are you hungry?”

He could eat a boar by himself. “No. I want nothing, except Tibi.”

“I doubt that she tastes very good, although with a touch of lemon and olive oil—”

Alexius threw the cup at Velus, hitting him in the shoulder. The ceramic cup broke into pieces on the floor, splashing water across the mosaic tiles.

Unconcerned, Velus swiped flecks of water from his tunic and bent to pick up the shards. He wiped up the water with a towel, then lit two more oil lamps around the room. “You may want nothing, but the rest of us would deeply appreciate it if you took a bath, my most benevolent master.”

Usually a response of that nature would have made
him laugh, but with Tibi gone, he found no cause for humor in anything. “Why haven’t you already called for the tub, old man?”

Muttering something under his breath about dull wits and shaving, Velus left to have hot water prepared. Alexius lay on his back. He rubbed his smooth cheeks, understanding that Velus had shaved his face while he slept. Beyond caring, he stared at the ceiling and the flicker of lamplight on the plaster.

As far as he was concerned, the day had been a curse straight from Hades himself. The putrid mix of frustration, anger, helplessness and guilt reminded him of a decade earlier when Kyra had been assaulted. The weeks following, he’d stared at the rushes of his father’s ceiling while he recovered and plotted murder to avenge his sister. This time there was no brute to hunt down or trail to follow. As surely as Hades had carried Persephone off to the underworld, so, too, had Tibi disappeared without a trace.

A night wind blew through the window, setting the shadows to dancing. A reminder came to him of Adiona’s words along with an urgent need to repeat them.

He felt like a hypocrite asking for help, considering the number of times he’d rejected their God in the past. But where else could he go, what else could he do when all his instincts begged him to pray?

He didn’t know how to begin except to start as he’d heard his friends pray on previous occasions. He spoke in Greek, half afraid that he’d muddle the translation from his heart if he used Latin. “Father God, my friends recommend You. How can I deny You when I’ve seen You change their lives for the better in so many ways? I believe in You, but I don’t see how You could possibly need or want me. I’m a murderer and a gladiator with
hatred buried deep in my heart. Anger breeds in me like a living thing that won’t be slain. I’ve tried everything I know to rid myself of this beast, but it refuses to leave. If You can help me, I ask that You change me. Make me the man You want me to be.”

He took a deep breath. The hole in the bridge he feared to cross seemed smaller by the moment. “But if I’m beyond redemption or You don’t want me, I understand. Whatever You choose, I ask for Your blessing on the woman I love. Her name is Tiberia the Younger, daughter of Decimus Tiberius Flavius. She is kind and lovely, as close to perfection as I’ve ever seen. She’s lost, but You must know where to find her. Hold her close.
Please
keep her safe in Your hands.”

He sat up, careful of his ribs. His feet on the floor, his elbows on his knees, he hung his head in full humility. “I ask You to bring her back to me, but if she has no wish to return, at least, allow me to know that she’s well. If You do, I’ll know you accept me and I’ll serve You the rest of my days.”

He didn’t know what else to say or ask except that Caros always prayed in Jesus’s name. He did the same.

Waiting, he didn’t know what to expect when silence was the sole reply.

“Why are you on your feet?” Velus approached, leading a small procession of servants bearing a tub and enough buckets of water to wash him
and
his horse.

Lost in his thoughts, Alexius ignored his steward. He wasn’t aware of when he’d walked to the darkened window. Was Tibi out there in the city somewhere hurt or lost?

Impatient to find her, he chased everyone from his chamber and hurried to scrub off the muck from the
river. He pulled on a clean tunic and grabbed a bag of coins from the money chest on the far wall.

Downstairs, the sound of voices drew him to the courtyard garden. Lamps and torches lit his way, giving the frescos and tiled floor a golden sheen. The dinner hour approached, bringing with it the aroma of roast lamb and fresh bread. His stomach rumbled. He hadn’t eaten since his last meal with Tibi. The thought that she might be hungry and thirsty gutted him. Unable to eat, he expected the evening fare to be served soon, but he planned to be gone before the first platter arrived.

He entered the peristyle to find his friends and a handful of strangers, not preparing to eat, but in prayer for Tibi’s safe return. Relief crashed over him at the sight of the small band of Christians. He’d seen their prayers work before. He waited on the steps, thinking he’d have to swear the servants and slaves to silence.

Adiona lifted her head and noticed him standing beside a column. She smiled and stretched out her palm in welcome. In that moment, he could have entered the Coliseum with more confidence than he did his own garden. His feet heavy, he moved forward and took hold of her soft hand. She bowed her head and continued her prayers without saying a word to him.

At a loss to know what to do, he bowed his head, too. His own prayers spent before he came downstairs, he listened to the hum of multiple voices praying at once. What otherwise might have been noise or meaningless babble somehow blended into a song of unison.

The
domus
seemed to breathe in relief as a door opened somewhere behind him. Expecting Pelonia, he released Adiona’s hand and went to investigate.

“Where is your master?” Pelonia asked, handing her cloak to one of the servants.

“I’m here.” Alexius gave the servant holding Pelonia’s cloak orders to have Calisto prepared. One way or the other he was leaving the house to look for Tibi. “Did you find her?” he asked, silently begging God for confirmation of her safety.

Her pretty face wreathed in disappointment, Pelonia shook her head, her pearl earrings swaying with the movement. She crossed the few steps between them and wrapped him in a her embrace. “I’m sorry. I would have sent a message sooner if I’d had news to give you.” She released him and stepped back. “Tiberia wasn’t home when I arrived this afternoon. I waited two hours before she came back. She believed Tibi was safe here with you. She hasn’t heard from her and doesn’t know where she is, either. I’m afraid she fears the worst. It seems Uncle Tiberius has had men posted all over the city at Tibi’s favorite places and then some. He knew she frequented the garden she visited with you. It’s reasonable to think his men found Tibi and took her back to him.”

Dread poured though Alexius, knowing Tibi had good reason to fear her father’s wrath. “Let’s be off, then.”

“Tiberia and I have already been. Tiberius barred the door against us.”

“Then he has her.”

“I tend to agree, but I can’t confirm if he does.”

Cursing the old man, Alexius slammed his fist into his palm. “Why didn’t Tiberia send word of her father’s actions? Had I known his tactics, we would
never
have left the
ludus
.”

“I don’t know,” Pelonia said, her brown eyes red from unshed tears and filled with stress.

“
I
do. That shrew wanted Tibi found.”

“No, Alexius. If that were true, she could have betrayed Tibi’s location to their father all along.”

“Not if she wanted to appear like a caring sister. Appearances are everything to that one.”

Pelonia sighed. “Be reasonable. I assure you Tiberia is as wretched about all this as we are.”

“I doubt it.” He rubbed his pained side. Not since Kyra’s assault had Alexius been as afraid for another person as he was for Tibi. “Antonius believed her life was in danger. If Tiberius has found her, what will the old goat do?”

“Again, I don’t know.” She closed her eyes and massaged the bridge of her nose. “Truly I don’t. I’m trusting the Lord to keep her from harm.”

“I’m going to fetch her.”

“You won’t get through the front door.”

“I hope Tiberius
does
try to stop me.”

Her eyes flared at the implied threat. She grabbed his arm to keep him from leaving. “Alexius, think. We don’t even know if she’s there. The city gates will close within the hour. Even if you managed to reach Tiberius’s
domus
, slaves will have it closed tighter than a clam for the night.

“Listen to me, my friend. Tiberia and I spent the last three hours considering our options. One of them is to surprise Uncle in his own house.”

He stilled, knowing a good tactical decision depended on being informed of the facts. “And?”

“If you force your way in, there’s a healthy chance he’ll harm Tibi just to prove that he has the right.”

“What are the other options you devised?”

“We can wait for Antonius to go tomorrow and determine if Tibi is there.”

“You can’t expect me to sit here all night and twiddle
my thumbs,” he ground out between clamped teeth. “I can’t! I’m not
able
to do nothing.”

“I know. I want to do whatever is possible as well, but I know my uncle. It’s unwise to surprise a viper in his own nest.”

Adiona joined them, the pale color of her flowing
stola
glowed white in the lantern light. “What’s happened?” she asked, signaling to lower their voices or risk disturbing the praying group in the garden. “Is Tibi with you?”

“No,” answered Pelonia, quick to explain the situation.

Adiona grimaced. She looked to Alexius. “Tibi’s going to be your wife. What will you have all of us do?”

He scraped his hand through his hair. “I want to kick his door down and snatch her from her father’s hateful clutches.”

“Sounds perfectly reasonable to me,” Adiona said matter-of-factly.

“Adiona!” Pelonia’s gasped whisper carried across the entryway. “What of the harm that scenario will create?”

“I don’t see any difficulties arising from his plan.” Adiona smiled at Alexius. He groaned inwardly. Her tone suggested there was so much trouble attached to his desired course of action that he’d be an addled fool to attempt it. Growing more agitated by the moment, he glared at her. As a former matron of Rome, she was well-versed in political intrigue, stratagems and maneuvering louts like Tiberius. “What do you suggest I do, my lady? Follow Pelonia’s advice and seek out the senator tomorrow?”

“What’s going on?” Caros said. He and Quintus joined them.

“Adiona is about to tell me how to fetch Tibi from her father without causing a small war.”

Quintus glanced at his wife, his eyes full of pride. “If anyone knows how, she will.”