Seduced by the Gladiator (26 page)

The girl inhaled deeply, then crossed the room to stand beside me. I saw her eye me with a sidelong glance, and hoped that I gave her no cause for concern.

What had Gaius done to her to make her so afraid?

“What is your name?” I tried this question instead, hoping to give her something, anything, with which to break the silence.

“Viola.” The word was soft, but as she spoke, she looked up at me, looked me in the eye, which I thought was a step in the right direction.

“Very well, Viola. Why must you groom me?” If it was for part of Gaius’ twisted fantasy, then I would allow nothing to be done to my person, though I had to admit that the tub full of water looked enticing. “I assure you, I would rather not be.”

There were those wide eyes again, that fear. “I must, lady. I have strict instructions, a list of things that must be done. If I do not . . .” Viola’s voice shook, and her hands again clutched at the ball of her belly. “I think now, having met you, that you will not beat me, as the dominus said. But if you appear any less than as he wishes, I will be punished.” The sick fear in the girl’s eyes reminded me only too much of some of the burdens that I still carried with me.

With a grimace, I looked across the room at the toga that had been modified to make me appear like a well-dressed whore. I looked at the tub, full of water that was clear as glass.

“What has he ordered to be done?” I thought that perhaps Gaius wanted my hair styled a certain way, or that I wash with soap of a certain smell.

I gaped when Viola brought forth the warm pail that one of the other slaves had brought into the room. With a stick she stirred the viscous yellow contents.

“This is to be applied to your skin. When it is pulled off, it takes the hair with it.” While I gazed in horror at the liquid, she fetched the tray with the pots. “This is a scrub made with sugar. It smoothes the skin. And this perfumes your hair.”

Her face flushed with embarrassment as she gestured to the final pot, a small one containing something thick and white.

“And this . . . I am to apply this to your clitoris. It will . . . he said that it will ensure that you are ready for him.”

“Oh, Viola.” How could the man ask such a thing of this young girl?

I knew that I would suffer through all of this nonsense if it meant that she would escape punishment. And as for the last little pot of cream . . .

No one was going to be applying that anywhere. I assumed that it was some sort of stimulant, which was something that I
had
heard of. It was common among whores, for it helped to wet their cunts and made their work less painful.

I would never be wet for Gaius, cream or not. My heart belonged to Christus, and all of my lust to him as well.

“Well, let us get to work, shall we?” Grimly, I stood, stripped off my leathers, and climbed into the tub. Gaius had sent Viola to do this task because he had known that I would never allow a timid thing like her to be punished when I had the power to prevent it.

I would be waxed and oiled and perfumed, and I would wear his whore’s outfit. But when he came to make me his, as he had threatened to do, he would find not a scared, trembling mess of a woman who longed for her lover and feared death.

Though I had no basis for the sentiment, I felt a kinship with the young slave, the girl who had gone out of her way the night before to show Christus and me an unexpected kindness.

She put me in mind of myself, so many years ago—she was young, she was frightened, and despite her advanced pregnancy, she retained an air of innocence.

I may not have had any responsibility to the girl, but I wanted to return the favor that she had given me. I wanted to show Viola that she could be strong.

And so when Gaius came for me, he would find the female gladiator who had once almost been crowned champion of Rome.

“I
nspect her cunt.” Gaius had sent two male slaves to fetch me from my room that evening at the dinner hour. I had let Viola dress me, let her arrange my hair, and had sent her on her way with what I hoped was the sense that she had performed her duties to the fullest.

Except for the stimulant cream. If Gaius was displeased, I would say that I had overpowered the girl and had refused it—which was not entirely untrue.

Now here I stood, barely two steps into the dining hall to which I had been brought. Gaius had set it for a seduction, with candles casting soft yellow light against the walls, jugs full of wine that smelled of spice, and a feast to rival the one that had been displayed at the party nights earlier.

“Fuck you.” I spoke as sweetly as I could and squeezed my thighs together tightly. Gaius laughed and then gestured to the two slaves to do so.

“I must be certain that my directions have been followed, lovely Lilia. All of my directions.”

I smiled at him, then grabbed the wrist of the slave who reached for the skirt of my toga. “If either of these slaves lays a finger on me, I will twist his cock off with my bare fingers.”

I longed for a weapon. While every gladiator was fully capable of injuring someone with bare hands, I did not want to touch him.

Settling back in his chair, he eyed me appraisingly. “Very well.” Nodding at the slaves, who stepped away from me quickly enough to make me smile, he gestured for me to come to the table.

I paused just long enough to crease his forehead in irritation.

“You will eat.”

Yet another slave rushed forward to fill a plate with various foods. I, of course, had no appetite. When presented with the plate, however, I forced a few bites down my throat, hoping to humor the man.

I wanted to know of Christus’ fate.

“Is it to your liking, lovely Lilia? It is peacock.” Gaius said this as if I was supposed to be impressed.

I might have been, if I had had any idea what peacock was, and if Gaius’ eyes had not been fastened to the shadow between my breasts as I spoke.

I shuddered, pushing my plate away. I could not play a game. I was not that kind of person.

“Tell me of Christus.”

The lust on Gaius’ face morphed quickly into disgust and anger. He gestured widely, to the candles, the platters of food, me.

“You dare to sit there, wearing clothing from my hand, eating my food, and ask me of the lowly gladiator?” Leaning in, he caught my hand in his own. I tugged, but he held fast, lifting it to his lips for a kiss. “You are above all of that now, Lilia. Do you not understand that?”

I shoved to my feet, standing abruptly. My seat toppled over behind me, and I paid it no mind.

“Tell me of Christus!” My words were shouted, my fists clenched. I dreamt of lunging forward, of raining blows down on Gaius’ head, but knew that scores of Roman soldiers waited outside, in the hall.

Angry now, Gaius stood as well, bracing his hands on the table. His face was twisted, the smooth mask of the man-child contorting into something more closely resembling the monster beneath.

“You wish to know of the gladiator? Very well. He survived, but you shall never see him again.” My heart sang, and I very nearly sagged in relief.

Christus had won. Christus was safe. This was the most important thing.

Slowly, menacingly, Gaius moved toward me. I was done with cowering from the man, no matter that fear still trickled into my veins with his proximity. Grasping my chin in his hands, he forced me to look up, into his eyes. Slowly, nearly gently, he placed a kiss on my lips.

Bile rose in my throat, hot and bitter, and I struggled to pull back, my hand connecting with the skin of his lips and drawing blood. The slap resonated throughout my frame, and my palm smarted from the impact.

“You little cunt.” The madness in his eyes was bright. “Ungrateful bitch. The gladiator thinks you dead.”

This I knew. Better Christus alive and mourning me than dead himself.

“You, however. You were never to die. Do you not yet see this?” Gaius, through the cruelty, seemed genuinely puzzled at my continued rejections of his advances.

“See what, you madman?” I stumbled slightly over the long skirts of the toga. I was unaccustomed to wearing such a garment. As I stumbled, he moved swiftly behind me, his actions sinuous as a snake.

“Do not call me that.” Suddenly my arms were twisted behind me, held in place by his pinching fingers. I bucked, elbowed, nearly escaped, but the soldiers in the hall had heard the commotion and come in.

“Take her to the play room.” Gaius wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. “You think I am mad, lovely Lilia? I will show you how methodical I can be.”

C
hristus thought I was dead.

When I saw the chains in the “play room” to which I was dragged, I decided instantly that I would rather be lifeless than have Gaius lay a hand on me. I struggled so, screamed, fought as hard as I had ever fought in the arena, and in the end the soldiers could shackle only one of my arms.

Gaius watched from the entrance coldly, approaching only after I had been restrained. One of my arms was cuffed, and I lay flat on the floor, three soldiers holding me down.

Clearly I had created enough trouble with the second cuff.

Gaius squatted at my feet, wrapping his arms delicately around my ankles, smoothing his hands up to my calves.

I kicked as hard as I could.

“Lilia.” A finger tickled the skin behind my knee, and then Gaius straddled me, his legs on either side of my hips. “Lilia. Listen to me.”

Glaring, I continued to buck. I would never make this easy for him. Never.

I longed for Christus, and mourned that I would never see him again.

“You will hold still. You will listen.” One of the soldiers handed Gaius a knife, and I went very still indeed as he pressed the blade to my throat.

“This was all for you. These games, they were for you, to extract you from the bondage of your slavery and to bring you here. Once I first saw you, I knew that I had to have you.”

“How have you extracted me from slavery if I am under your control here?” My words were bitter, and seemed to surprise him.

“Here you will be my mistress. You will have every privilege, everything you desire.” His eyes narrowed as I tried to pull back from the knife. “So long as you do what I say.”

He was nearing the end of his patience; I could read it on his face. Though it went against everything in me, I forced myself to relax.

“Why would you do this for me? I do not understand.”

Seeming stunned that I had stopped the fight, Gaius removed his hands from my body, though he still straddled me. Waiting a moment to see if I moved, he waved the soldiers away. I watched them hesitate, but they backed away, out the door that he had gestured toward.

Idiot man.

Free but for the one hand, I rolled, shoving Gaius off of me. Using the muscles of my thighs, I pinned him by the hips. His face showed surprise, though whether he was surprised by my strength or the fact that I did not want the same things he did, I was not sure.

I was strong, but he had madness on his side. Grabbing him by the throat, I flexed my fingers, squeezing as tightly as I could. He bucked beneath me, stronger than I had anticipated. I was losing my grip, and my advantage, when I became aware of a commotion in the hall, where the guards had been dismissed to.

Black out, the gods damn you.
Gaius’ fingers scrabbled at his throat, but he refused to submit. I was distracted by the shouts, the screams from the hall, and finally my fingers slipped from his throat and Gaius lunged at me, throwing me to the floor.

“No!” He was truly mad, to be pulling up the skirts of my toga while what sounded like a battle raged in the hall beyond.

As if from a dream, two men exploded into the room, vengeance in their eyes. I did not know them, but in that quick moment I saw that, despite the simple togas that they wore, they were gladiators.

I tried to scream, but my breath had been knocked out of me when Gaius had knocked me to the floor. Not knowing if the new gladiators were friend or foe, I struggled anew, finally succeeding in flipping Gaius off of me.

Soldiers streamed into the room, and the gladiators began to battle them, moving so fast with their swords that they seemed like the wind. This told me that they were friends, but who were they? Why were they here?

“Lilia!”

My heart leapt. I turned away from Gaius—I could not have done anything else, for the voice belonged to Christus. There he stood, just inside the door, the right side of his face purple and swollen with bruising.

“Cunt! You are mine!” I was caught off guard when Gaius wrapped his arm around my throat. My eyes widened—I was so stupid. I had turned my back on the beast.

Christus tried to make his way toward me, but the soldiers realized that a third foe had entered their midst and he could not move closer.

“I have offered you the world.” Gaius’ breath was hot against my ear. “Money, fine clothes, rich food. A place as the mistress of the emperor. Why, lovely Lilia? Why would you say no?”

Even through the confusion brought about by lack of air, I noted than something in his words was strange. Was he saying that I would be the mistress of his brother, the emperor? Or was he referring to himself as the emperor?

The thought fled as my air supply dwindled, and I ceased to care about his meaning. This was it, I thought. I was going to die, and by his hand, after all. I opened my mouth to suck in air; his grip on my throat was so tight that I could not. Gathering my strength, I prepared to try to elbow him in the gut, to stomp on his instep, to bite—anything that might save me.

A memory of Bavarius and the death that he had so deserved flashed through my mind, and with it came a surge of strength.

“I have survived far worse than a madman. I have not fought for my life only to succumb to you.”

Then, suddenly, his arms ceased tightening. Behind me Gaius froze, a great gurgling erupting from the depths of his throat.

It was not shock from my words.

I watched, horrified, as blood trickled down my neck and spilled over the breast of my toga. As soon as his hands relaxed enough that I could move, I sprang away from him, whirling to see what had occurred.