The Gladiator (20 page)

She entwined her arm with his and placed her head on his shoulder in sympathy. The water splashed in the fountain beside them as they sat together for long moments without saying a word.

Somewhere in the house a door closed and the smoky aroma of the cook fires drifted in the air. Adiona sighed. “I don't believe in love, but
if
I did and a man loved me as you love Pelonia, I'd give up all that I have and consider myself blessed by the gods to have found him.”

A bitter laugh burned in his throat.
Her God is the other reason she won't have me.
“I thought you hate men.”

“Oh, I do. In my opinion, you're the last good one and clearly your heart is taken.”

“Quintus is a good man, too.”

“He might as well be a eunuch for all the notice he gives me.”

“I think he notices you too well.”

“You do?” She sat back, her expression guarded. “Why do you think so?”

“Because he's a healthy man and you are a fantastically beautiful woman.”

Her nose crinkled in disagreement. “You saw him turn away from me.”

He debated whether or not to tell the true reason for Quintus's rejection. Deeming her trustworthy, he shook off her hold and stood. “I imagine he turned from you because he's a follower of Jesus the Nazarene. To Quintus, I imagine, you're temptation in flesh.”

“A
Christian?”
She began to laugh uncontrollably. “Leave it to me to fantasize about a deviant!”

He frowned. “From what he's told me, there's nothing strange or perverse in their beliefs.”

“They eat human flesh and blood! If that's not unnatural, what is?”

“I asked Quintus why.” He leaned against a pillar and crossed his arms over his chest. “He explained they aren't cannibals like so many believe. They have a custom where they take bread and wine as a remembrance of their God's death for them.”

“You've
been asking him about his beliefs?”

He nodded.

“Why? You know their sect is illegal.” Understanding
dawned in her large amber eyes. “It's Pelonia. She's one of them.”

“Yes,” he admitted slowly. “It's the main reason she won't have me.”

“Stupid woman. She cast aside the man who loves her and for what? Minucius? I assure you he has no Christian bent.” She went to Caros and embraced him. “You know I love you as my dearest friend?”

He hugged her back. “Of course. And I care for you as a friend.”

“Then I must beg a favor.”

He released her and stepped away. “Why is it I've faced hordes of gladiators determined to kill me with less trepidation than I feel when you turn all winsome and womanly?”

“Will you favor me or not?”

“When have I ever refused to help you?”

“Good.” She smirked. “I'm having a fete Tuesday night and I'm in need of a two-headed bull to display.”

T
he soft notes of a panpipe drifted in from the courtyard as Pelonia reclined on one of the low couches surrounding a table laden with the evening meal. Tiberia sat back on her own couch to Pelonia's left, the senator across from them. A variety of boiled vegetables, roasted lamb and salted fish made up the bulk of the dishes.

Tiberia selected a piece of spiced lamb. “Antonius, my love, don't forget we're to be celebrated by Adiona Leonia tomorrow evening. I'm wearing a blue tunic and silver
palla,
so I've had matching garb prepared for you.”

“Whatever you wish, my dear, as long as the garment's not fashioned of wool. This heat is enough to blind me.” Antonius snapped his fingers and motioned for slaves to wave huge plumed fans to cool the lantern-lit room.

“The warmth reminds me of late summer,” Pelonia remarked, disliking the use of slaves, but unable to complain when she was little more than a guest in the palace.

“Indeed, but October was comfortable enough. Perhaps it will cool back down and become more seasonable in a few days' time.” He raised his glass chalice and drank a long
draught of sweet wine. Not for the first time that evening, his pensive gaze settled on Pelonia. She picked at a morsel of lemon-seasoned fish, leery of his hesitant manner. Did he have some misfortune to share?

He heaved a heavy sigh. “I've pondered how best to tell you I have news concerning your uncle.”

She dropped the spoon she held. Fear winded her as she recalled the last time she'd seen her uncle and his hatred toward her.

“Marcus returned to Rome earlier today and sought me out this afternoon at the Forum.”

Pelonia's heart kicked back to life with a jolt.

Tiberia sat up, her knees hitting the table in her haste. “I hope you carted him off to the amphitheater! I'm certain there's a least one hungry lion willing to tolerate rancid meat.”

“What did he want?” Pelonia reached for her water and tried to drown the acid rising in her throat.

“The cur was in a fine mood, actually. He has no idea you've returned to us.”

“What are you going to do with him?” Tiberia asked. “His villainy can't go unpunished after the harm he caused our family.”

“Don't worry, he'll regret his treachery.” A sly smile curved the senator's lips and for the first time he appeared to Pelonia as a true politician. “Before he left Rome several weeks ago, he and I struck a bargain,” Antonius said. “He borrowed five thousand denarii from me and offered the property in Iguvium as collateral.”

“You mean my father's property?” Pelonia asked in disbelief. At the senator's nod, a wave of anger doused her fear with fury. She pushed the dinner plate away as she swung her legs over the edge of the couch and surged to her feet.
“How dare he! My father toiled his entire life to make a home for us. And Marcus thinks to squander it? For what purpose?”

“He plans to open a wine shop and make himself a notable man of Rome.” Antonius laughed. “It's ludicrous. Can you imagine? As if there aren't enough wine merchants in this city already.”

Pelonia sensed she was missing an important detail, but her indignation blinded her. “Many times Father tried to give my uncle business responsibilities, but Marcus proved to be unsuccessful every time.”

Tiberia sent her husband a queer look. “If the venture was bound to fail, why did you lend him the money?”

Antonius motioned for his wife to sit back down. “Don't fret, my love. You can trust that all is well. Marcus expected me to introduce him to key buyers and help insinuate him into our social circle. The
idiota
thought to use my reputation and my coin to set him up in grand style, yet he didn't think to offer me a partnership or a share of the profits. He must have taken me for a fool, but he'll soon learn who the imprudent one among us is. Even without the harm he caused Pelonia, I'd planned to teach him a lesson he won't soon forget.”

Pelonia sank back onto the low couch. “What do you intend to do? I admit I'm having difficulty not hating him for what he did to me, but you aren't going to have him maimed or…or worse, are you?”

“He deserves worse,” Tiberia said with an indelicate snort.

“No.” Pelonia weighed her reaction with care, mindful of how she thought the Lord expected her to behave.

“What do you mean, cousin?” Antonius took another drink of wine. “I'd think you'd want Marcus dead after he sold you into slavery.”

“I don't want him dead.”

“You intrigue me, truly you do. Every other person I know would be demanding Marcus's head on a stake. But not you. Why? What makes you different?”

“I'm not so different. If I were to live by my impulses and feelings alone I'd wish for his death—no, I think I'd help you plan it. But I seek to walk a different path, one not always easy to follow.”

“The way of your Christian God?” he asked.

“Yes. I want to serve Him and cultivate forgiveness in my heart.”

“Have you forgiven Marcus, then?” Skepticism darkened his hawklike eyes.

“I'm trying.” With her temper still blazing, she understood his doubt. “I've asked the Lord to help me, but I've yet to fully succeed.”

The music shifted to a softer tempo, carrying on the warm breeze that fluttered the wispy drapes flanking the open doorway to the courtyard.

“Forgiveness is a nice sentiment,” Antonius said. “But have a care who you admit your religion to. Being Tiberia's kin and mine by marriage you're safe here, but if you were anyone else I'd be forced to report you to the authorities.”

The warning duly noted, she lowered her gaze and nodded.

“The truth is, whether you excuse Marcus or not is of little consequence to me,” Antonius mused aloud. “The man is headed down a painful and well-earned road.” He chose a round of flat bread from a stack within his reach and tore it in two. “I'm certain you and my dear wife will both enjoy the outcome once my plans have come to fruition.”

 

With the help of a slave, Pelonia alighted from the litter once Tiberia and the senator stood on solid ground. As her gaze wandered up…and up…and up the wide stretch of
steps leading to the palace of Adiona Leonia, she was convinced the edifice was the most lavish structure she'd ever seen other than a few of Rome's grandest public buildings.

Lit by a succession of tall bowl lanterns blazing with fire on every third step, Adiona's Palatine home boasted three stories graced with marble Corinthian columns and artfully arranged statuary. Bougainvillea, deep orange in color from the fire's glow, spilled from the series of arches along the second floor.

In the lush front garden interspersed with statues of Roman deities, jugglers entertained some of the early arrivals, while wandering musicians filled the night with festive songs.

“Isn't this wonderful?” Tiberia exclaimed with pleasure as she tugged on her husband's arm. “Can you believe all of these preparations are for us?”

“I'd expect nothing less from widow Leonia. There's no better hostess in all of Rome.” A swirl of laughter, music and merriment surrounded them. “I'm proud of you, my dear. Not everyone is capable of earning the widow's favor, but this grand showing means she must have been impressed by you.”

Pelonia drew her sheer white
palla
closer around her shoulders. Numerous well-wishers arrayed in colorful fabrics and sparkling jewels stopped to give their regards to Antonius and Tiberia. Pelonia followed the evening's honored couple, careful not to draw attention to herself. It had been months since she'd attended any kind of social function as a guest. Before she'd come to Rome, she'd always loved a merry occasion, but here she felt strangely out of her depth.

Perhaps she shouldn't have come. Though she tried to accept God's will and learn the lessons she thought He wanted to teach her, the tragedies of recent months had stolen her usual good cheer. She was lonely without her father to talk
to and the constant, intolerable agony of missing Caros seemed to increase by the hour.

“Why are you frowning?” Tiberia asked. “This is the grandest of occasions. Please smile, if only for me.”

Tiberia was right. The evening was meant to be a triumph for the newlyweds and Pelonia refused to dampen the festivities with any more of her dreary spirits. Determined to be an asset to her cousins, she plastered on a pleasant expression, nodded politely when necessary and made appropriate comments when Tiberia or Antonius introduced her to various acquaintances on their slow progress up the steps.

By the time they reached the final landing, Pelonia was a touch more confident she could put the
lanista
out of her mind for once and maintain her cordial façade—at least until she saw the large fountain twinkling with hundreds of tiny floating oil lamps. Without warning, the arrangement reminded her of the stars she'd gazed at with Caros during the party Adiona hosted at his home. The thought, so unexpected and fierce, overwhelmed her with memories of his arms wrapped around her and the intensity of his kiss.

“How beautiful!” Tiberia exclaimed beside her. “Have you ever seen such a glorious sight?”

Pelonia's answer lodged in her throat. She was floundering in a deep well of pain that threatened to drown her. A hollow ache was expanding inside her until it threatened to swallow her whole. With the exception of her father, she'd never missed anyone as much as she missed Caros. But where her faith promised she'd see her father again one day in heaven, the loss of Caros burned like true death, stealing away all the joy she'd ever know and stretching her life out before her like a lonely, colorless road.

“You're thinking about
him,
aren't you?” Tiberia asked. “You must put troubling thoughts behind you, dearest.
You won't have to face him again. The widow Leonia may be friends with that horrid
lanista,
but she knew you were attending with us tonight. I'm certain she didn't invite him.”

“Caros Viriathos has been absent from this sort of gathering for more than a year,” Antonius added, craning his neck as though looking for someone.

“Except for the party Adiona hosted at his home not too long ago,” Tiberia said. They crossed the threshold of the palace. “I confess, at the time, I was jealous. Everyone heard of the fete and I can't think of anyone who wasn't overcome with envy if they weren't invited…By the gods, isn't this stunning?”

Pelonia gulped. The grandeur on display was indeed magnificent. From the flower petals strewn across the mosaic-tiled floor to the sweet scent of incense, consideration had been paid to every detail. But it wasn't the beauty of the large circular entryway with its rare yellow marble or the valuable bronze statues that drew her attention. It was Caros standing in profile just beyond the arched doorway leading to the palace's inner chambers.

She began to tremble. To her starved gaze, he was even more handsome than she recalled. The tallest man in the room, his black, wavy hair curled around his ears and nape. His lean jaw clean-shaven, the embroidered tunic he wore and the gold bands circling his wrists highlighted the deep bronze of his skin. Captured by the undeniable pull of his appeal, she took a step forward.

“Don't go.” Tiberia latched on to her arm to stay her. “I'm surprised Adiona invited him tonight. Truly, I believed she'd exhibit better taste. Still, you must stay here. You'll look like a prideless
idiota
if you run to him when he's speaking with that gorgeous dancer over there.”

He was talking to someone? Through the shifting bodies of the milling crowd, she strained to see the “gorgeous dancer.”

“I've tried to shield you from the ugliness,” her cousin continued in an embarrassed whisper, “but the gossip has been rife about you since someone let it be known he enslaved you for weeks at the school. Fortunately, Antonius has found a fine man who's willing to overlook your…past.”

Registering the dancer's elaborate wig, heavy cosmetics and transparent costume, Pelonia paid no attention to Tiberia. The sensual delights the beauty's gaze offered Caros knotted her stomach with jealousy. That he seemed captivated by the woman and didn't rebuff the obvious invitation shattered Pelonia and broke her heart.

“Perfect. Our honored guests have arrived.” Adiona Leonia approached, her breezy manner one of an accomplished hostess. The smile she wore seemed genuine. She welcomed the three of them with a kiss on each cheek, then clapped her hands to draw the attention of her other guests.

The music and conversation died down. Pelonia forced herself to look interested in her hostess's introductions, though her entire being danced with the awareness of Caros such a short distance away.

When she was finally able to glance at him again, he acknowledged her presence with a slight nod before he turned away. His lack of regard stung the same as a slap in the face.

Pierced through the heart, she lifted her chin in a valiant effort to maintain her dignity. The urge to flee into the night was strong. Inside, she felt herself crumbling. Tears scratched the back of her eyes and her chest locked up, making it difficult to breathe.