The Champion (8 page)

Alexius rounded a corner. She hiked the hem of her cloak to midshin and sprinted along the deserted street to catch up. It was difficult for her to understand, but he seemed to feel as alone as she did. With that common ground between them, perhaps, just perhaps, they could somehow find a place in the world to belong together.

Alexius spent the long walk back to the training school listening for Tibi’s footsteps to ensure that she never trailed too far behind him. He cursed the Fates who were toying with him as easily as a child launching a parchment boat into white-capped waves. How was it possible that in the space of a few hours one small, exquisite young woman had managed to turn him on his head?

The flaming torches posted on either side of the
ludus
’s iron gates were a welcome sight. Inside the courtyard, Alexius handed Calisto’s reins to a stable hand. Velus met him with an anxious expression and two small scrolls, their wax seals already broken.

“What news have you, Velus?” he asked as the three of them traversed the path leading through the peach orchard and into Alexius’s private quarters.

The dwarf’s nervous gaze darted to Tibi, who’d taken a seat on one of the office’s plush blue chairs. He looked back to Alexius and passed him the thinner of the two scrolls. “This is from Caros Viriathos. It was sent from Umbria four days ago. He and his traveling companions were delayed due to some business of Quintus Ambustus. They don’t expect to arrive in Rome for at least another week.”

Seeing Tibi stiffen and her dark eyes fill with dread, Alexius uttered an oath under his breath. “What else?”

“
This
one,” the steward handed over the second scroll, “is from Tiberius Flavus—”

Tibi paled. “Father must know I’m here.”

“I doubt it.” Alexius reached for the rolled parchment and scanned the document.

“He requests that you give him his daugh—”

“Quiet. I’m reading.” Alexius cut off his steward before Velus revealed the worst. More than a request, Tiberius
demanded
that Tibi be returned or Alexius would find himself summoned to the law court. Ensuring that his wayward daughter was properly punished was his right and a matter of honor, or so Tiberius claimed. With the senator’s influence and Tiberius’s shrewd lawyers, Alexius could spend a fortune on his own counsel and his chance of winning Tibi away from the old goat would remain less than nil.

The realization that he might be forced to send his beautiful Tibi back to a house of hate and maltreatment was more than he could stomach. There had to be some other way to keep her safe. He just had to find it.

He looked up to see Tibi pacing in front of the open
window. She’d lowered the hood, revealing her untidy braid of golden hair. A chilly breeze ruffled the long wool cloak. Her delicate profile was pinched with worry. She looked hunted. He loathed seeing her unhappy.

“Your father is bluffing, Tibi. He doesn’t know you’re here. Nor will he.”

“You can’t know that for certain.” She faced him, her gaze latched onto the unrolled scroll in his hands. “What are his orders, Alexius? What threats has he issued if you don’t deliver me back to him?”

He sent Velus a silencing glance and shrugged. “Nothing of substance.”

She wrung her hands. “Things must be more severe than I imagine if you refuse to tell me the truth.”

“He says he’ll never hire my men again,” he lied. Rewinding the scroll, he placed it on the desk and moved across the tiled floor to take her hands in his. “Believe me, I’m not concerned.”

Velus snorted.

“Your steward doesn’t seem to agree with you.”

Alexius frowned at Velus. He tipped his head toward the door in a silent command for the servant to wait in the hall. “I rescued Velus years ago from a beast master who planned to use him for lion feed, yet he likes to believe I’m the one always in need of aid. Apparently, I can’t even comb my hair without him.”

A wan smile crossed her lips. “I don’t want you to suffer in any way because of me. You’ve already risked much today—”

“I risked nothing.” How like Tibi to have some misplaced fear for his safety without any regard for herself. “What can be done to harm me? Do you think
your father will storm my gates and pit his paltry slaves against three hundred gladiators?”

“My brother-in-law—”

“Is entrenched in a battle to further his political position.” He traced a fingertip along her high cheekbone. “He’ll be only too glad his troublesome sister-in-law is out of his way to worry about her whereabouts.”

“Thank you very much,” she said primly.

He laughed. “Listen to me. I want you to stay here.”

“I can’t—”

“
Yes,
you can. Until Caros and Pelonia arrive, just as we agreed.”

“I believed they’d be here this afternoon.” She eased her hands out of his grasp. “Don’t you understand? I don’t want to be a burden—”

“You
aren’t
a burden. You’re my guest.” The urge to shake her was strong, but not nearly as powerful as the need to throttle her father and sister for stripping her of all sense of self-worth. He found Tibi as close to perfect as humanly possible. How could anyone find her lacking, especially her own family?

How different his own youth had been, basking in the acceptance of relatives who’d adored him and whom he loved just as much in return. His parents had showered him and his sisters with praise and endless affection. How different would Tibi see herself if she’d been nurtured, cared for as she ought to have been?

Fond, long-buried memories surfaced of his life in Greece—so, too, the pain of losing all he’d cared for. For years he’d denied himself the joy of remembering those happier days the same as he’d stopped believing he deserved a worthwhile future.

He realized that Tibi’s presence in his life was
changing him. For years he’d felt dead inside, but she made him want to live again. Just as his parents had known within hours of their first meeting that they were meant to be together forever, he knew Tibi was his heart’s desire.

“I want you here,” he said. “I’m
asking
you to stay.”

“But…why?” she whispered, clearly confounded.

Mentally testing and rejecting several approaches to a reasonable explanation, he dragged his fingers through his hair in frustration. He wanted to proclaim his love for her, but a confession of that sort was bound to send her running in fright. No girl with her breeding and background would consider winning a gladiator’s affections a compliment.

He cleared his throat. “The truth is…I like you, Tibi. I enjoy your company. I feel responsible both for you and to my friends for your safekeeping. Today, I told you you need a champion. If you truly wish to try to avoid life as a temple priestess, let me help you. Let
me
be your champion. Who better to defend you than a man whose sole talent is winning a fight?”

Tibi went still. She stared at him as though he’d begun speaking Greek midsentence. Although he’d expected no less, her lack of enthusiasm regarding his confession hurt like a kick in the teeth. He was grateful that he’d told her the most tepid version of his feelings because he’d never felt more foolish in his life. For all his experience with women, he’d never been in love with one until Tibi, and her unpredictability was punching a hole in his confidence.

Like most Greeks, he knew he was passionate by nature to the point of being reckless on occasion. If he wasn’t careful, he’d wind up on his knees, begging her to stay, to love him in return. A mental image of that
pride-crushing scenario sobered him as though he’d jumped into an Alpine lake. “So what will it be then? Will you stay or shall I send you back to that weasel you call Father?”

“I
have to go back.” Tibi’s bottom lip quivered. She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “Today was my one chance at freedom. Had Caros and Pelonia returned this afternoon, as I’d hoped, the outcome might have been different. As it is, I took a gamble and lost. The longer I defy my father, the more enraged he’ll become with me
and
all those who help me. I’ve seen him beyond reason before. I’ve no wish to revisit that frightening place. Nor do I want to incite harsher consequences than those I already have to pay.”

The urge to toss her over his shoulder and lock her in one of the sleeping rooms upstairs was almost more than he was able to resist. Her rejection of his offer of shelter and safekeeping sent a shaft of pain through his chest the same as a
gladius
slicing through sinew and bone. The sensation of helplessness stoked his fury like nothing else he’d ever encountered.

Aware that she was sensitive to displays of anger, he forced back the dark tide rising inside him and placed his hands on her shoulders with great care. She swayed into him, but caught herself before she leaned on him completely. “I know you are terrified of Tiberius, but
he is no threat to me. I’m not his property to punish or command. He doesn’t own me—”

“No, he owns
me
. By right and by law. If he learns that you’ve helped me, he can use his powerful allies to ruin your reputation in business, call you to court, have you fined. He might have his men assault you in the street. You could be hurt or worse because of me…”

The thought of Alexius coming to any kind of harm made her physically ill. The narrow space between them disappeared as she listened to the cry of her every nerve and gave in to the temptation to lean fully against him.

His strong arms banded around her, holding her tight against his solid chest. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head and gently stroked her hair. His warmth and spicy scent cocooned her. For the first time in her life, she felt as though she’d found a haven to call her own.

Heartsick, she chafed at the laws that made her father her master and compelled her home. The time spent with Alexius had been short, but enlightening. He’d given her a taste of the acceptance she’d always longed for, but feared never existed. He said he liked her. Whether or not he was just being kind, she didn’t know for certain, but his face, his voice, his touch—everything about him—called to the deepest recesses of her soul.

And yet, how could she heed that call? A legal marriage required her father’s consent. Even if her father cared about her and her happiness, he would never accept a Greek gladiator as her husband—not that Alexius had offered for her.

“You give Tiberius too much credit.” His warm breath ruffled her hair. “I can defend myself. Stay with me,
agape mou
. Let me help you.”

Unable to see an honest way to be with him, she squeezed her eyes shut and soaked in the last precious moment of being held in his arms.

“You refuse to believe he can harm you if you help me, but you’re wrong, Alexius.” He resisted her attempt to leave his embrace, but she persisted until he let go of her. She stepped out of his reach, the separation causing her heart to ache as though it had been ripped in two. “Violence isn’t the only way to maim a person.”

“No,” he agreed darkly, his eyes hooded by lush, black lashes. “Violence
isn’t
the only way.”

Tense silence stretched between them. The fire crackled in the hearth. “Will you take me back tonight, then? Or will you have one of your men accompany me?”

“Neither.”

“Neither? The night is so dark. I know I came here alone, but I had to take the risk—”

“I’ll return you myself,” he said, all traces of tenderness gone from his face and body. “But not until morning.”

“But—”

“Velus,” he called, overriding her objection. “See our guest to a room and send one of the women to serve as her maid for the night.”

Alexius dropped into the chair behind his desk and stared out the open window. Distant music and the laughter of his men and their admirers floated on the night wind from elsewhere in the house. His thoughts locked on Tibi upstairs, he barely noticed the star-filled sky or the cold air sweeping through his office.

In times like this, when he was alone with his thoughts and the whole world seemed faraway, he
wished he believed as his friends did. He envied Caros, Quintus and their wives, their ability to go to their God with their concerns. They fully believed He cared for them and, as Caros had told him many times, sought to make all things work together for their good.

As soon as they arrived, he planned to seek his friends’ counsel and prayers. For as far as he could see, without a miracle his situation with Tibi wasn’t likely to end well.

A grim smile curved his lips. His mother, a very outspoken woman with a strong mind of her own, would have complained that his methods of keeping Tibi within his reach were high-handed, but he was grateful his refusal to take her home had so far earned him a night’s reprieve from losing her altogether. Aware that Tibi had been courageous and foolish enough to venture out in the middle of the night to escape her father, he knew she might do the same to him if she thought it best. Short of tying her to the sleeping couch, he had no way or right to prevent her from leaving. However, the maid sent to serve Tibi would alert him if she did decide to go without telling him first. If she left, he’d follow and protect her until she reached her father’s home.

A knock sounded on the door frame. “Master?”

“What is it, Velus.”

“A visitor is here to see you.”

“Who is it?” Alexius asked, more than a little annoyed by the intrusion.

“Senator Antonius Tacitus.”

Alexius tensed. His hands formed into fists. If Tibi’s brother-in-law thought he could steal her away from him, he was crazed! He surged from his chair just as
Velus stepped back to reveal the senator standing in the doorway.

Draped in a dark gray cloak and tunic, Tacitus had obviously dressed with a clandestine mission in mind. His hawklike features too weathered for a man in his mid-thirties, the senator possessed the sort of inbred arrogance that always set Alexius’s teeth on edge.

“Lanista.”

“Senator.” Alexius waved the newcomer into the room.

A man who’d enjoyed wealth, position and the care of an army of slaves since birth, Tacitus dropped his cloak in Velus’s general direction, expecting the steward to catch the wool garment before it hit the floor tiles. Velus glared at the senator’s back and let it fall, kicking the heavy pile of cloth for good measure before he deigned to pick it up and leave.

Once Tacitus chose a chair across the desk from him, Alexius offered a refreshment, which the senator declined.

“I seem to be popular with your family today.” Alexius returned to his seat, careful not to betray his vexation with the senator’s overconfident manner or his keen interest in the man’s unexpected arrival. “Your wife was here earlier looking for her cousin. Unfortunately, Caros and Pelonia aren’t able to return to Rome until next week.”

“I’ll inform Tiberia of their change of plans. However, you and I both know that’s not why I’m here.”

A gust of wind rattled the shutters tied back on either side of the open window. Alexius shook his head and adopted a perplexed expression. “I have no idea why you’re here, Senator. Please. Enlighten me.”

“We all know Tibi came to see you last night.

There’s no use denying it. She thought Pelonia might be here. She had nowhere else to go.”

“I don’t deny it.” He leaned back and propped his elbows on the arms of his chair. “I can’t confirm her visit, either.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Does it matter?”

The senator glared at him. “Where is this misplaced loyalty coming from,
lanista?
Has Tibi offered her body in exchange for your protection? If so, let me warn you. She’s a…unique and beautiful girl to be sure, but I defy you to find a more troublesome wench within a radius of a thousand miles.”

“If I see her, I’ll keep that in mind,” Alexius growled, imagining how easy it would be to break the man’s arm as payment for his insult to Tibi’s honor.

“Good.
If
you see her, will you also convey another message for my wife and me?”

Alexius nodded, losing more of his patience with each word Tacitus uttered.

“Tell her not to go home. Her sister and I are concerned for her safety. Rumors are running rampant about her. In defense of his reasons for breaking the marriage contract, Catulus Lepidus has made claims that are—how shall I put it?—
less
than complimentary concerning Tibi’s purity. Gossip is already raking up the old rumors that she’s wild and that Tiberius is too weak to control his willful daughter.”

Alexius swore under his breath. “I know Catulus Lepidus. He and his father are both rodents. The rat shouldn’t have been allowed within a mile of Tibi.”

“That may be,” Tacitus said, sheepishly rearranging the edges of his cloak. “But Tiberius was fed up with his daughter long before last night’s fiasco. For all the
years I’ve known them, she and he have mixed as well as oil and water. The renewed gossip and her defiant disappearance have sent him over the edge, I fear. I believe the possibility that he’ll kill her the next time he sees her is very real.”

The fury Alexius had been struggling to suppress boiled up like a geyser. The chair scraped back along the floor. He jumped to his feet and rounded the desk. “You tell that swine,
I’ll
kill
him
if he so much as
blinks
unkindly in her direction.”

Tacitus stood and put half the room between them. “It needn’t come to that,
lanista
. If she comes here, do us all a favor and lock her away somewhere.”

“
You
are suggesting that an innocent girl like your sister-in-law stay in a gladiator school? Something foul is in the air for certain. I’m surprised you’re not more concerned about public opinion. What of her reputation?”

“She has none to protect,” the senator answered bluntly. “If it were otherwise, I might view the whole matter in a different light. Given the situation as it is, I see no better place for her than here. Tiberius isn’t foolish enough to think he can storm a gladiator school and win.”

“You are her family. What of your home? You have the power to ensure her safety, or are you unwilling to?”

“Frankly, I don’t think I do.” Antonius moved to stand behind a chair. “My father-in-law visits often. It’s unlikely that he wouldn’t find her there. Tibi is his to command and he is beyond reason and rage at the moment. I believe his antipathy toward his daughters is unnatural. He views them as a curse from the gods since he has no sons of his own and his adopted heir died years ago. He has no love for either girl, but
he at least tolerates my wife because her marriage to me strengthened his social standing. Tibi, on the other hand, is a misfit with a long history of ruining his plans. He gives her no quarter and chooses to see her as rebellious rather than strong. Usually, my wife or I can soothe his feathers when she ruffles them. This time is different. He’s vowed to see her punished once and for all. I believe him.”

Alexius moved to the window, needing the night air to cool his own hot temper. How
dare
Tiberius threaten Tibi when, as her father, he should
cherish
her. What pleasure he’d feel if he broke the old bull’s neck. “I think I
will
kill him.”

“I can think of no one who’d miss him, but he’s not worth the price you’ll pay when they toss you in prison.”

Alexius turned and leaned against the windowsill. He crossed his arms over his chest and eyed the senator with suspicion. “What do you gain by coming here?”

“I hope to ensure Tibi’s safety, of course.”

The senator maintained eye contact, but Alexius noted the clench of his hands and tightening around his thin mouth. He’d gambled too often not to notice when a man was hiding something. “Admirable, but there’s more. I want to know the truth.
Why
are you here? Tell me or get out and we’ll let the Fates decide the best course of action.”

Antonius frowned, but eventually admitted, “I can’t afford another scandal. My candidacy for consul is precarious at best. I care deeply for my wife, but her sister’s questionable behavior and volatile father are…a liability to a man in my position. Most would never question Tiberius’s right to chastise his daughter, even to the point of death, but there are moralists who might
seek to overplay the situation and sway public favor to one of my opponents’ camps.”

“A true politician with the heart of a weevil, are you not, Tacitus? A sweet girl’s life is in danger, but you are more concerned with the loss of respect her death may cost you than with saving her from harm in the first place.”

The senator gripped the back of a chair until his knuckles glowed white in the lantern light. “Scoff all you like,
lanista
, but I bear no ill will toward the girl. I’m here because I
do
want Tibi protected. If she’s out of sight, the gossip will die. She’ll be safe from Tiberius and my wife will be spared from suffering the loss of her sister—”

“As if that shrew would miss her.”

Tacitus stiffened. “My wife is no shrew. She cares much for Tibi, but years of acting as a buffer between her relatives have gained her more than her fair share of bruises.”

Satisfied with the senator’s explanation and fairly certain there were no surprises waiting to pop up and bite him, Alexius returned to his desk. “
If
Tibi comes here, how long should I plan to shelter her?”

“The election is in a few weeks’ time. If you can bear to keep her that long, I’d be grateful.”

“And then?”

“We’ll see if the winds have changed.”

“Fine,” Alexius said, thinking he’d gladly keep Tibi forever. “But you owe me.”

“Agreed.” The senator moved just close enough to shake Alexius’s hand on the pact. “Keep Tibi out of sight and you can ask whatever you wish. If your request is within my power to grant, you have my word of honor that I’ll see it done.”