The Gladiator Prince (10 page)

When she was done, she tucked her nightgown into the bundle, tied it tight then hauled it to the horse’s rear-end with a grunt.

Bahar appeared out of the dark in worn clothes and grabbed the sack out of her hands. “You are taking too much.” His voice sounded dull against the rotting timbers, and Phaedra did not let go.

“I am not!” she said pulling hard, but when Bahar let go of the package, Phaedra flew back and landed painfully on her tail bone, the pack landing on her legs. Bahar ripped open the bag and threw most of it out, including Phaedra’s nightgown.

“I might need that,” she snarled up at him rubbing her posterior and retrieving her legs from under the pile.

“Quiet.” Bahar bundled the pack, tied what was left to the horse then turned around and disappeared through the door.

Phaedra got up and brushed old hay and dirt from the roughhewn costume Bahar had provided for her. The wool itched, and she was certain it was infested with fleas, ticks and who knew what else, but it was warm in the mist that had started to creep from the woods. She pulled the hood tight around her head, patted the horse’s nose and listened. All she could hear in the night was the breek-reeking of insects and her own stomach growling.

Even though it was her own idea, she wondered again if she had made the right decision. Loving Bahar had made her steadfast in her choice, but it was still insanity. What if Abella caught them? How would they get to Londinium then the docks traveling with an escaped gladiator — and a famous one at that? Would Hasani still want to marry her? Bahar had assured her he had taken care of Abella, though he did not elaborate, despite Phaedra’s nagging. He had only said they would not miss them until they were well on their way to the ship.

Bahar appeared in the door with another bundle that he strapped to the horse. Using the stand to help him, he mounted the horse and held his arm out for Phaedra.

It was now or never, and she knew there would be no going back. Apparently, Bahar saw the hesitation in her eyes because he smiled down at her softly.

“Do not worry, big sister. I will not let anything harm you. I swear.”

She twisted her lips at him. “I am supposed to be protecting you!”

Pulling in a tense sigh, she latched onto his arm and let him pull her up behind him on the horse. The beast grunted once, gave an impatient snort and lunged for the entrance of the shed when Bahar kicked him.

Despite her misgivings, for the first time in her life, a sudden vivacity fired her blood with excitement, trepidation and exhilaration. If she lived, she promised herself she would never go back to her father’s house again.

If she lived…

Chapter X

Getting out of the compound had been easy. Darweshi himself escorted Thane to the edge of the woods, clasped his arm and reassured him they would guard his absence for as long as they could. Thane had thanked him and taken off at a sprint to try to beat the rising sun that would reveal him in less than eight hours. If he hurried, he would make it half way to Londinium before the sun rose and reach the town by tomorrow night.

The Roman military pack mounted to a “Y” frame he had donned was not heavy; it contained only essentials. On his left hip hung his
gladius
and on his right a Roman fighting knife they called a pugio. It was larger than the Briton knives he had used in the past, but it was the only one he could find at the
ludus
. He would buy what he needed along the way.

He caught himself twice trying to rub his face where the makeup covered the tattoos. The blasted goo itched enough to make him swear, but he was adjusting.

Hitting the
Iter III
around midnight, he stopped in the woods and listened carefully. The only sounds were the night beasts and insects behind him in the woods and the spatter of rain dripping off the heavy fir branches over his head. A shot of lightening sparked somewhere to the south foretelling more rain, and he cinched the ties on his hood before stepping onto the road. He would have to avoid the guarded way stations or mansios, as the Romans called them: small houses that provided fresh horses for Roman troops and a tavern for refreshments stationed every fifteen miles or so. They would require passports, which Thane did not have, but the Brits had established back roads to bypass these areas long ago. Thane had memorized them at his uncle’s knee as a child when the Romans first arrived.

The memory of his uncle and cousins training him at the Hill Fort at Camulodunum ignited a deeply buried grief he had not allowed in years. Their bloody faces staring opened eyed on
Boudiga’s
battlefield still haunted him from time to time. He had no love for the Romans. A part of him reveled in freedom from them, however short it would be.

After about an hour, a sound stopped him: voices. Before he could dive for the shelter of the trees, a horse suddenly appeared before him, standing back on its hind legs, whinnying fiercely. It barely missed him when he dived for the other side of the road.

Thane drew the knife and crouched on the cobbled stones watching the horse land back on its feet and charge towards him. As it passed, he swung the blade wide, missing the horse, but grabbed onto a leg dangling over its side. With one charged twist of his body, he pulled the owner off the horse, and the figure landed on top of him. Wasting no time, he wound his massive legs around the body, got a small chin in one hand and pushed the knife against the warm throat with the other.

“Doctores, no!”

The familiar voice immobilized his hand, but not before it nicked his captive’s soft skin. A garbled cry reverberated against his blade, and he cast the body away from him. A light materialized from the top of the horse and the other jumped from the horse and rushed to them. When Thane lurched to his feet and saw whom he had held, he took a step back confused. Looking up at the other, he swore.

“
Merda
! I almost slit her throat. Are you two mad? What are you doing here?”

Bahar ignored him and went to Phaedra to examine her throat with the lantern. Pulling a rag from his waist, he staunched the flow and wiped it away. It was only a nick, by Thane’s standards, but to hear Phaedra moaning, you would have thought he had cut her to the bone.

“You animal!” she bellowed at him, taking the rag away from her brother.

Thane crossed to them and pushed Bahar aside, getting on his knees to inspect the wound. When he tried to reach for her, Phaedra slapped his hands away and scooted back several feet. “Get away from me!”

Grabbing her wrist, and not too gently, he pulled her protesting toward him then caught both of her wrists in one hand. He stared into her panicked eyes.

“Stop,” he commanded. To his delight, Phaedra sat perfectly still and let him examine her neck. He had been right. It was no more than a nick that had already stopped bleeding. Before he let her go, he squeezed her wrists tight. His neck burned with anger. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

Phaedra pulled her hands out of his grasp when he loosened it and stood up quickly. Crossing to her brother, she dabbed again at the wound and said nothing.

Thane got up and fiercely rubbed the dirt from his hands. “Tell me, now,” he growled at Bahar.

Bahar laced his fingers above his head and frowned back. “I am sorry,
Doctores
. We need your help.”

“My help?” he snapped. “Is this some kind of game you are playing?” Pointing to the road with one hand, he fisted the other against his leg. “The
Iter
is no place for two youngsters. There are bandits here…” he said then eyed Phaedra, “and worse. You must return at once!”

Bahar lifted his chin and blew out his chest, taking some of the wind out of Thane’s anger. When the boy took a courageous step toward him and spread his feet, he had to suppress a smirk. “We cannot go back there,” Bahar stated with bravado. “Not now. We are going to Rome.”

Thane threw up his hands and snarled a curse.

Bahar’s chest caved in, and he rubbed his hands against his tunic, softening his tone. “Please, Prince. We need your strength to get us there.”

Thane put a hand at the back of his neck and shook his head. “Rome? Why the devil would you two want to return to Rome?”

“Because I cannot tell father…” Bahar started, but Phaedra pinched his arm eliciting a cry from him. He jerked his arm away from her.

“It does not matter why,” she retorted. “We are going whether you help us or not.” Narrowing her eyes up at him, her mouth clamped into a line. “It would be to your best interest to help us, Prince.”

His heart quickened. “Why?” he asked.

Phaedra crossed to the horse. “Because I know why you flee Britannia,” she stated.

Thane took a menacing step toward her. “What is it you think you know, little one?” The memory of a sound, like the coo of a dove, in the bathhouse reared.

Her nostrils flared a moment and deep dimples dug into the sides of her face, but she did not answer. Bahar made a move, but Phaedra put her arm in front of him and lifted her eyes to Thane. “I have no wish to harm you, gladiator,” she said with conviction, and for the first time Thane saw a side of Phaedra that he had somehow missed over the last two years.

A fierce determination shone in her eyes, and, though he knew she must be frightened, she did not show it to him. Instead, she stiffened her back and confronted him. He could see in her expression that she knew he could break her in two, had he wanted to.

A kind of respect softened his irritation, and he found himself again lost in those beautiful tawny eyes speckled with bronze. The sensation mystified him. Until that moment, Phaedra had been no more than a noisome child, but the thought of her kneeling before him earlier coupled with this show of defiance heated his blood. He wanted suddenly to take her in his arms and help her lose the virginity that was so abhorrent to her. She managed to sweep away that sensation with her next words.

“If you do not take us to the ship, I will tell father of your daughters.”

A surge of fury ousted his moment of weakness, and a growl clawed up his throat propelling him across the clearing. His arm flew on its own, smacking against the side of her delicate cheek and sending her sprawling to the road.

In the next instant, he found his arms full of a writhing hurricane of nails, teeth and fists. Bahar landed several bites and scratches and even managed a hard kick to just above Thane’s privates before the gladiator was able to throw him to the ground. With an easy step, he had a sandal on Bahar’s neck, holding him to the cobbled road. Bahar should be grateful the
corked sandals
were still in Thane’s pack.

Phaedra was back on her feet and, to Thane’s surprise, let loose with a battle cry not equaled on the field. With both arms whirling toward him, she moved so quickly, the nails came within a hair’s breadth of his eyes. Thane grabbed her throat with an open hand and held her back with his right elbow locked to keep her from moving any closer. Beyond continuous screams and scratches to both his hand and his foot, Thane knew he had the situation under control.

He did not want to hurt either of them but did not know what to do to calm them down, so decided he needed patience and let both of them struggle against his grip until they tired.

Bahar gave up first when his air supply had tapered off. He flailed a few more times weakly then raised his right index finger in the gladiatorial gesture of surrender. “I yield!” he croaked.

“Do you promise to behave yourself?”

He wheezed twice before he could get the words out. “If you let her go, I will.” Thane lifted his foot off the youth, and Bahar surged to his hands and knees in a fit of coughing.

Still holding Phaedra at bay, Thane took a ready stance, but the boy did nothing more than rise, glare at him and run his hands around his neck to check for damage. Except for some redness and a bruise darkening the right cheek and one side of his neck, he seemed well enough.

Thane turned his attention to the tempest still trying to eviscerate him. He tightened his hold on her throat and damned if the girl did not fight harder. In disgust, he finally pushed against her face, and she fell on her backside with a noticeable bounce.

The indignant position seemed to take something out of her oars, and she buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Thane briskly rubbed the frustration out of his face and reached down to help her. Phaedra spat at him and leaned away, angrily wiping her eyes with the rough material of her cloak. Thane gave up and stared down at her.

“You are playing a very dangerous game, girl. And you too,” he snapped at Bahar. “Do you know what you risk by bringing your sister here? Go home!”

“I have no intention of…” Phaedra said standing up, but her brother stopped her with a look.

“I cannot go home,
Doctores
.” Tears sparkled in his defiant eyes, and he sniffed them back. “I have no home. To return there now would mean my death and the death of my sister. We need you. Please…”

Thane pointed to Phaedra. “What is it she thinks she knows?”

“Tell him,” Bahar said quietly.

“We do not need this animal. We will do this ourselves, if you will just…”