The Champion (18 page)

He searched up and down the river. Calling Tibi’s name, he listened for any faint cry for help or other sound she might make in the darkness. The blackness
of night impaired his efforts. Torn between terror and anxious frustration, he ran the distance to the litter and the men hired to stay with the transport.

To his relief, he found the litter bearers playing dice by the glow of two torches. “Come, men! Bring the light. My woman is missing. I need your help to find her!”

The leader of the group released three of his band to go with him. Makeshift torches were fashioned from tree limbs.

“One of you return to the
ludus,
” Alexius ordered the remaining trio. He absently rubbed his strained ribs. “Explain to my steward, Velus, what’s happened. Tell him I’m in need of men and lanterns for a more extensive search.”

“I can’t do that, sir,” said Napos, a stringy individual Alexius had been introduced to as the group’s leader. “Me and my men are bound by oath to stay with this litter—”

Enraged by the fool’s lack of concern, Alexius lunged for him. Napos scurried away, stricken by obvious panic, but not fast enough to escape. Alexius grabbed Napos by the front of his stained tunic and lifted the quaking man off his feet. “By the gods, do you think I care about this rattletrap? I’ll buy ten litters to repay your master if anything happens to this piece of trash in your absence.” He released Napos with a shake and a shove that sent the leader reeling. “Now, run, little man,
run!
”

Napos half ran, half stumbled backwards. “What if your steward doesn’t believe me? I have no seal to prove I’m on an errand of your bidding.”

Alexius cursed. Napos spoke true and Velus had
always been a suspicious sort—an excellent quality he’d always appreciated in his steward until this moment.

Quickly weighing his options, he looked back toward the river. The three torches were fading points of light in the distance. “Tell him if he doesn’t heed you and send supplies within the hour, I’ll give him back to the beast master who sold him to me.”

The two underlings that remained jumped to fashioning torches while their nervous leader rushed in the direction of the main road.

Sometime later Sergius and four other men from the
ludus
arrived with torches, lanterns, water and horses, Calisto among them. His throat rough from calling Tibi’s name, Alexius issued gruff orders. Along with the litter bearers, the men divided into pairs and set out to explore the garden’s every nook and bramble.

Ignoring the cold of night, he and Sergius investigated a dilapidated temple, moving fallen stones and statues until they both agreed that Tibi wasn’t under them. Several pairs of men combed both sides of the Tiber. To Alexius’s relief, Tibi’s precious body wasn’t found, encouraging him to believe she hadn’t fallen into the frigid water and drowned.

Hours passed. The sun began to rise in a burst of red and gold streaks across the deep blue sky. Terrified, Alexius continued to lead by example, refusing to give up when exhaustion begged him to do so. Tibi was more than his love, he realized. She was his heart and his last hope for a future. If he lost her, he might as well dig his own grave and stop breathing.

“Did you search as far as Domitian’s wall?” Alexius demanded from a set of men returning from that direction.

“We checked everything,” the weary men assured him. “Even the fallen, hollowed-out trees are empty.”

Sergius shuffled beside him. “We have to go back to—”

“No!” Alexius barked. “Not until we find her.”

“She’s not here.”

“Don’t say that!” he growled, his voice as rough as gravel. His hands clenched into fists.

“Don’t unleash your fury on me, my friend.” Sergius grabbed him by the shoulders. “We have to go back to the
ludus
. There’s nothing else to do, Alexius. We’ve looked under every stone and blade of grass. The litter bearers have already left and our men are hungry and worn out. You’re dead on your feet. What good will it do anyone if you collapse?”

Recognizing that Sergius was right, he spit on the thought of giving up. “Would you leave if Leta had gone missing?”

“I wouldn’t want to, but I hope I’d be wise enough to realize when to take good advice.” Sergius closed his eyes and sighed in resignation. “Go back to the
ludus,
send fresh men to continue the search if you must. If Tibi hasn’t been found by the time you’ve rested, I won’t hesitate to come back out here with you.”

Alexius glanced across the gray morning to his men. Haggard and exhausted, they were asleep standing up. “All right, we’ll go back, but I will find Tibi.” He raked his hands through his hair. “I
have
to.”

“H
ow long did you think you could hide from me, girl?”

Like a wayward slave, Tibi stood before Tiberius in the garden of her family’s home. Fear and the smell of fish sauce from her father’s uneaten meal churned her stomach.

The sun had set at least an hour before. Slaves had lit multiple torches and hanging oil lamps in each archway. Light flickered across the greenery, the elegant tiled designs decorating the floor and the columns that held up the porch’s painted rafters.

Back in the hateful reality of her family home, the precious days spent with Alexius seemed like a dream, like a lifetime ago. Her father’s slaves, Lixus and Orosius, had ambushed her on her walk near the water’s edge. Still shaken from the experience of being dragged from the riverbank, gagged and thrown into a boat by her father’s men, she worried about Alexius and how abandoned he’d feel when he awoke to find her gone.

Quaking in her sandals, she did her best to hide her terror. “I planned to stay away for just a little while, Father. I knew I’d displeased you after that fiasco with
Lepidus. I honestly never intended to embarrass you and I hoped your anger might have a chance to subside if I put some space between us.”

“Spare me your lies and excuses,” he sneered. He rose from the red, tufted couch he rested on and tightened the black silk belt he wore around his thick waist and green tunic. He poked his index finger toward her face. “You ran away to save your worthless hide from being taken to the temple where you might
finally
do some good for this family. Thanks to the slaves’ talk, everyone from the city matrons to the butchers knows of your disobedience. You’ve shamed me and yourself throughout Rome. The whole city is flapping with gossip that my rebellious daughter has once again proven too much for me to handle. Even pantomimes are mocking me in the streets with their wretched skits.”

“The gossips are wrong,” she whispered, stricken by the knowledge that he troubled himself more with the opinion of strangers than with the slightest concern for her welfare. “Do you even care where I’ve been or if I’m all right?”

She met with stony silence and flinty eyes. “I can see you’re breathing. That is plenty.”

“How did you find me?” she asked, expecting his hostility, but oddly not as hurt by his coldness as she had been in the past.

“How does a cat find a mouse? By visiting her favorite holes.” He picked up a blue glass pitcher and poured honeyed wine into a matching chalice. He swirled the potent liquid as he spoke. “You think you’re clever, but you have much to learn, my little mouse. I have eyes all over this city. Patrons three deep, each of whom owes me favors and loyalty. All your favorite places
have been watched. My men have searched Claudius’s old garden at least twice a day since you disappeared from here. But had you shown your face at the bath or gymnasium, the theater, that Forum tunic maker you frequent, the library or even one of those orphanages I forbade you to visit, you would have been found and brought back to me.”

Her temper sparked. He’d expended so much effort to find her and all to prove to his neighbors that he was strong enough to bend her to his will. “I’m sorry to cause you such trouble.”

He lifted the chalice to his lips. “Not sorry enough, but you will be.”

She felt her face pale. Her knees weakened. What did he mean? What new punishment had he devised for her to suffer? She lifted her chin, wishing with all her being that she’d never left the
ludus
or Alexius’s loving arms. “Do you plan to kill me?”

“I should, but if I were going to end your life, I’d have exposed you on the day of your birth.”

She blanched. Babes born deformed, sickly or deemed unfit—almost always girls—were often left to die in the elements. She wasn’t deformed and as far as she knew she’d been a healthy infant, albeit female. She focused on a potted fern to help maintain her composure. If she wanted to get a definitive reason for why her father had always despised her, this was her chance to ask. “Why
didn’t
you put me out?”

“Believe me, I planned to.”

Her chin quivered. “Because I wasn’t the son you wished for?”

“In part, but that’s the least of the matter.” He placed the chalice on the table beside his couch and sat back down. “Your mother was involved in an affair with a
married man she claimed to love. There’s a chance you might be his.”

Too shocked to speak, Tibi staggered to the nearest chair and sank into the soft red cushions. He’d meant to lay her low with the news and aimed his poisoned arrow well, but she managed to hold her head high, refusing to let him see her bleed.

“I learned of her indiscretion a few weeks before she came to term with you,” he said without emotion. “The scandalmongers were laughing behind my back. All of them claimed I was too weak to keep my wife under control.”

“Just as they say you can’t control me.”

He nodded. “Like mother, like daughter. Where do you think the line of gossip came from so soon after you won that archery competition?”

He idly picked at the potted fern beside him. “I told your mother to ingest silphium or wormwood to rid her body of you before you were born, but she refused. I threatened to expose you, but she promised to divorce me if I did. The threat carried weight because in those days most of my coin came from her side of the family. On the other hand, she didn’t want her lover named as the reason for our divorce. She and I made a pact instead. I’d let you live in return for an eighth of her dowry, the promise she’d leave the other man and become the docile wife I demanded.”

“Tiberia?” Tibi whispered.

“She has my look about the eyes and is mine as far as I know. If nothing else, at least she’s proved useful in her marriage.”

“Who might my father be?” Tibi wondered aloud, beginning to recover a measure of inner calm.

“He’s dead.” Fire flared in his dark eyes, belying his
phlegmatic attitude toward the subject at hand. “That’s all you need to know.”

He reached for his glass and took another drink of wine. “At the time, the agreement between your mother and me suited me greatly. The portion of dowry I received was the same as I’d have gleaned in a divorce.” He shrugged. “And there was always the chance you might have been a boy.”

“Would you have loved me then?”

“I doubt it. Every time I look at you I remember how your mother went behind my back and deceived me.” He waved his hand, splashing the wine from the chalice. “At least keeping you silenced the gossips for a time and repaired your mother’s bruised reputation. After all, what shamed husband keeps a child if he believes there’s a chance the brat might not be his?”

“You think there
is
a possibility I’m yours? Or are you confident I’m not?” she said, hoping he wasn’t her father and frustrated by his refusal to name the man who might be her true sire.

“No one can know with full certainty. I thought we’d see a likeness of one or the other of us in you, but even then you foiled my plans. Your dark eyes could come from any one of a thousand men in Italy and the rest of you takes after your barbarian grandmother.”

The evening’s breeze rustled the firelight. Suddenly glad her blond hair and pale skin made her an oddity that frustrated Tiberius, she felt liberated to learn the true reasons behind his antipathy toward her. She saw now that she was not the problem he’d labeled her since her earliest memories. All the effort she’d expended to please him was in vain, but not because of any intrinsic flaw on her part. His eyes were clouded by his own
failure as a man and a husband, yet he was determined to see
her
as the picture of disappointment.

Eager to leave and return to Alexius, she appreciated her gladiator more by the moment. He’d shown her more respect and honor in a week than she’d experienced in the previous eighteen years. He’d helped her see how she should be treated and what behavior to accept from others. Tiberius failed on all counts. Whether he was her true father or not, the heartless man no longer held sway over her outlook. What kind of callous man sought to grind a girl into dust for the sins of her mother? As far as she was concerned, she’d already wasted too much of her life trying to please the merciless tyrant.

No longer.

From now on she planned to spend the rest of her days glorying in the love of a magnificent man who accepted her freely and without reservation.

That Alexius loved her amazed her still, but she believed him because he’d helped her see her own value. If he would have her, she’d marry him tomorrow, tonight or even within the next hour, if possible. Tiberius had best give his permission and not stand in her way to wed, either. The information he’d imparted concerning her birth had been meant to hurt her. Instead, he’d cut her free and created an arsenal of ammunition to use at her discretion since he, not she, cared so very much for public opinion.

“I’m leaving.” She stood and called for a slave to fetch her cloak. “I do regret any embarrassment or difficulties I’ve caused you in the past. As I’ve said, that was never my intention. I’m grateful you didn’t leave me to the elements as an infant, but as of right now I wish to end our…association.”

“I think you’re mistaken, Tiberia.”

Hearing her full name, she began to tremble. Conditioned to fear the worst, she sought out the nearest way of escape.

Tiberius snapped his fingers. The woman bringing her cloak changed course and scurried in the opposite direction. At the same moment, the burly slaves who’d kidnapped her from the river appeared in each of the two side doorways.

“What are you planning?” she demanded of Tiberius, her heart racing like a rabbit being chased by a wolf.

“You were born under a cloud of embarrassment and shame. This last act on your part must be dealt with, for I’m done being forced to defend my reputation because of your rebellious ways. Once and for all, I mean to prove I am master of this house.”

She ran for the one unimpeded door.

“Silvo!” Tiberius shouted for his steward.

The huge Campanian filled the open arch that led to the interior of the house. She struggled to get past him, but Silvo was too strong for her. Merciless hands gripped her shoulders and pulled her back into the courtyard. Orosius’s arm of iron banded around her waist and lifted her off her feet.

“Lixus, fetch the cane,” Tiberius ordered.

Tibi’s cries for mercy fell on deaf ears. Her screams for help rang through the house as Orosius carried her from the garden and into the yard where her father chastised his slaves. Cool, misty air dampened her skin. She kicked and twisted to get loose from the huge slave’s hold, but he held her deftly as he chained her wrists to the whipping post above her head.

“I’m sorry, my lady,” Orosius whispered near her ear. “I have no choice.”

Hot tears flowed down Tibi’s cheeks. Splinters poked her wrists and inner forearms. She’d never been caned, but she had been beaten enough to dread the onslaught of agony.

Angry and terrified, she closed her eyes and cried out to the gods for mercy, but it was Pelonia’s God that came specifically to her mind. “Please, Jesus,” she whispered against the rough wood of the post. “Please, help me.”

“Lixus, where are you?” Tiberius shouted behind her.

“I’m here.” Tibi heard running. “All is ready.”

“Then begin. It’s time my troublesome
daughter
learned a lesson she won’t soon forget.”