Out of the Ashes (3 page)

The guard’s beady eyes darted between the girl and
Dacian
before he bowed his head slightly, his lip curled in contempt.

“Whatever the
lady
wants.”

His tone on the word “lady” made
Dacian
bristle. Given the chance, he would gladly kill the guard with his bare hands for the insult to Sabina’s character, insinuating he knew exactly why she had come—the only reason any woman would visit the barracks.

The guard snatched at the satchel Sabina carried, opened it, and rooted through its contents. He withdrew a covered jar, removed the top, and sniffed it. Seemingly not satisfied, he shoved his finger into it and stuffed a glob of white paste into his mouth. No sooner had he closed his lips around his finger than he spat the paste out on the stone floor.

Sabina chuckled. “I could have told you it was not food, had you the decency but to ask.”

The guard growled at her, and
Dacian
feared the man would make her leave. Instead, the guard shoved the bag and its contents into her hands and slammed the door. The bolt slid shut, effectively trapping Sabina in the cell with
Dacian
.

He stared at her back, afraid to move, afraid to make a sound. She seemed so small, like a delicate bird trapped in a wicker cage. He did not doubt the guard was right. If he wanted to,
Dacian
could kill her with a single blow of his hand. Killing was what he’d been trained to do. He sensed she realized that, but for some reason, she chose to trust him. Why? Why, of all the gladiators in Pompeii, did she choose to seek out him?

Sabina turned, a tentative smile touching her face.

“Hello,
Dacian
.”

He set his half-eaten bowl of boiled barley on the floor slowly so as not to frighten her and wiped his greasy fingers on his dirty tunic.

“Why have you come here?”

The pleasant smile left her face, replaced by a piqued look that made her appear older than her years. “You lied to me yesterday.”

“I did?” Confused, he tried to recall every word of their conversation.

“Yes. When I asked if they had beaten you for losing, you said ‘no.’”

Dacian
shrugged in a casual manner, belying the rage he felt at the injustice life dealt him every day.

“It is the price to pay for losing in the games.”

Concern quickly replaced the look of displeasure on her pretty face.

“You did not get into trouble when they took you away yesterday, did you?”

“No.” He shifted his feet, the pain of the fresh lashes under his tunic calling him a liar.

“Let me see your back.”

Her request surprised him. Did she really wish to see the lashing he received because of her visit?

“I think it would be better if you did not.”

Indicating the satchel she carried, Sabina approached him.

“I brought a salve that might help you. I risked a great deal in coming here today and had to spend a goodly amount of my own gold to do it. Now, are you going to remove your tunic or not?”

Heat rose to
Dacian’s
face. “I do not wish to offend you.”

“I have tended wounds before. The sight will not offend me.”

“That is not what I meant.”

Realization washed over Sabina’s face, her mouth curving into a silent “oh.” The filthy tunic was all
Dacian
wore.

Without hesitating, she removed the white
palla
from around her shoulders.

“Here, you may cover yourself with this.”

Handing the lightweight shawl to him, she turned her back as if the decision were final.

Dacian
nearly laughed. There he was, a trained killer, and yet he felt intimidated by this tiny girl. He removed his slave belt, then pulled the tunic over his shoulders, wincing as the coarse material scraped across his raw back. If she wished to see the ugly side of being a gladiator, so be it.

He took her
palla
and wrapped it around his hips, the material so thin and sheer it barely concealed him.

“You may turn around now.”

Sabina turned slowly and eyed him from under long lashes, almost as if she did not trust him to be fully clothed. When she saw he was, the stiffness in her shoulders eased, and she seemed to relax.

“Please sit.” Sabina indicated the stone slab that served as his bed. He did as she ordered. When she sat down next to him, he stiffened, unaccustomed to having anyone so close who didn’t want to kill him.

“Now, let me see.” Turning him with just the barest touch of her fingers on his shoulders, she angled his back toward the meager light coming in through the small barred window in the door of his cell.

Dacian
braced himself for her reaction.

He heard her swift intake of breath. “By the gods, look what they have done to you!”

He craned his head to peer over his shoulder. “It probably appears worse than it feels.”

“It looks awful. Why did they lash you again?”

“The guards are always ready to remind the slaves of their place.”

Sabina sat silent for a long moment.

“Was it because you touched me yesterday?”

He hesitated before telling her a half-truth.

“Among other things.”

“Then this is my fault. I caused you this pain.”

His hand covered hers where it rested on his shoulder.

“No, Sabina. Do not blame yourself. You did not wield the whip. It was not your hand that laid these lashes across my back.”

Her large blue eyes pooled with tears ready to overflow down her pale cheeks.

“But if I had not come—”

He shifted slightly so he could see her better.

“If you had not come, they would have found another reason to do it.”
Dacian
watched her struggle with the unfairness of it and searched for the words to ease her guilt. “And if not for you, I would not have had a reason to bear it.”

“I am sorry.” She paused, worry furrowing her brow. “Will they punish you again because I have come?”

Dacian
let his arm drop and shook his head.

“No. Since you paid them good coin, they will not hurt me in the hopes of receiving more if you come again. Besides, with the next games so close, they could not risk damaging me so much that I can no longer fight.”

He watched as inspiration sprang alive inside her.

“But what if you are so injured that you could no longer fight? Would they set you free?”

Sweet, innocent Sabina. She had no idea of the way of the world.

“A gladiator who cannot fight is not worth keeping alive. If I can no longer compete in the games, they will pit me against the beasts, and both you and I know which will win in the end.”

The room grew cooler as the hope faded from her eyes.

“Yes, I know.” He watched her gaze rake over his scarred back. “Still, they should not have beaten you for a mere touch. It is not as if you meant to do me harm.”

“No.”
Dacian
looked deep into her eyes. “I would never hurt you.”

She smiled. “I know that.”

“How? How do you know, when you do not know me?”

Sabina shrugged. “I just do.”

She looked down at the jar of salve in her hand and winced.

“However, you may not say the same of me once I am done with you.”

Contrary to her words, her fingers stroked gently across his ravaged back. So unaccustomed to another’s caring touch on his skin, he wanted to weep at the tenderness of it.

Reluctant to break the peacefulness of the moment,
Dacian
asked the question that had plagued him since the games.

“Why did you save me in the arena?”

He felt her pause.

“You fought well. I did not think you deserved to die.” Sabina quickly resumed her ministrations, smoothing the cool cream on his skin just above where it met the barrier of the shawl.

“There are gladiators who fight well every day. Men who fall, hour upon hour, who do not deserve to die.”

“I know.”

“So why me?”

She sighed heavily. “There had already been so much blood and death that day. I thought maybe… I wanted to save one.”

Dacian
snorted at the futility of it.

“But you cannot save us all.”

Sabina paused again.

“But I did save you, so do not dare tell me you were not worth it.”

He had no answer for her. He remained silent and enjoyed her touch. Her fingers glided over his skin, tenderly applying the healing ointment to the cuts on his back.

“There, I hope it did not hurt too much.”

Disappointed when her fingers left his skin,
Dacian
turned to her and took her hand, running his thumb over the tops of her fingers.

“I would gladly suffer the lash every day if it meant you would touch me with kindness again.”

Sabina blushed and pulled her hand away. She passed him his tunic, then turned her attention to resealing the jar and replacing it in her satchel.

“You risk a great deal by coming here,”
Dacian
said as he stood and dressed.

“I know.”

“Do you really, Sabina?”

He stared down at her as she sat on his stone bed in her pure, white gown. She looked so young and naive. As much as he hated to do it, he needed to warn her of the folly of coming to the barracks, even if it meant he would never see her again.

“You risk not only your reputation, but perhaps any chance at a good marriage. Only women seeking a lover come to visit the gladiators.”

She finished wiping the salve from her fingers with a cloth and stared down at her hands.

“I am aware of that.”

“Is that why you really came?”
Dacian
held his breath, the thought sending a wave of heat through his body. He stepped toward her, his cock stiffening under his tunic at the possibility of her desiring him that way. “Is that what you want of me?”

Sabina’s head shot up, her eyes wide while a telling blush crept up her cheeks.

“I… no. No, of course not. I only wanted to help you.” Snatching up her satchel and
palla
, she stood and turned for the door. “I am sorry I came. I will not bother you again.”

Dacian
panicked and reached out to stop her. He grabbed her upper arm, his fingers encircling the delicate limb where the mark from her armlet had been the day before. Her skin was so soft, he ached to touch her more, but he didn’t dare.

“Wait. Please do not leave just yet.”

Sabina stopped, but she would not look at him.

“I am sorry.” Desperate to take back the careless words he’d spoken, he faltered. “I… am glad that you came. Just by doing so, you have made my sad existence a little more bearable, if only for a day.”

She turned, a wealth of emotion vivid in her eyes. With his hand still cupped around her arm, she stepped closer. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, the silence of the cell broken only by the sound of their breaths drawn in unison, mingling in the air between them.

The grate of the bolt jarred them back to the moment.

“Your time is up,” the guard said from the doorway. “You will have to come back tomorrow if you want to see him again.”

Dacian
looked at her, probably for the last time, knowing the regret he saw on her face was likely reflected in his own.

“I thank you for coming, Sabina, but do not come again. You risk too much.”

She smiled shyly.

“Only my heart.”

Dacian
watched as the guard led her away, locking him back in his cold, lonely cell.

Sabina’s gladiator now had a face—and a name.

Dacian
.

Wrapped in the
palla
he had covered himself with the first time she’d gone to him in his cell, his scent surrounded her. Strong and musky, the smell brought him vividly to her mind.

Every day Sabina had managed to slip away to visit him, and each time it cost her more. Once her coin was gone, she began bribing the guards with various pieces of jewelry, but before long all that would be gone, too. Soon she would be forced to steal from her father if she wanted to continue to see
Dacian
. But see him she did, and each time, the look on his face made it all worthwhile.

In the dark confines of his cell, they spoke of small things—how well the grapes grew on the fertile hillsides of Vesuvius or the philosophy of Seneca and the writings of Pliny the Elder. They talked of the past—how Sabina’s wine merchant father had raised her since her mother’s death and how
Dacian
had worked at the laundry as a child before he’d been sold into the gladiator school.

They never spoke of the future—of
Dacian’s
dreams if he were ever free or of what might happen between them should they be able to see each other outside the confines of his cell.

And they never spoke of the games or of what might happen when
Dacian
would have to fight again. The thought was unbearable for them both, and yet, the next games were only days away.

Time was running out.

These thoughts weighed heavily on Sabina’s mind as she entered her father’s solar. She approached him warily, not quite certain what she was going to say.

“Father? I wish to speak to you about the gladiator.”

Busy tallying the day’s wine sales, her father looked up from his wax tablet.

“Gladiator? What gladiator?”

“The
Myrmillo
from the games Uncle sponsored.”

Her father looked momentarily confused, then pinned her with a stern look.

“The one you had Gallus spare? What of it?”

Sabina ran her finger across the front of her father’s table. What she was about to ask was unthinkable.

“I was wondering if we could buy him.”

He stared at her as if she’d just asked him to dump this year’s wine harvest into the sea.

“Buy him? Whatever for? I have no need of a gladiator.”

“I do not mean to buy him so that he may fight for us, but so that we may set him free.”

Her father snorted at the very thought of it. “And throw away good coin? I think not, child.”

“But he is a good man. He does not deserve to die.”

He looked at her suspiciously. “How do you know so much about this gladiator?”

Realizing her error, she scrambled for an explanation. “Only what I have heard others say.”

He waved his writing stylus at her.

“Sabina, I know you have a tender heart, but do not grow overly fond of this gladiator.” He sighed heavily, shaking his head at her in the way that meant she would always be a child in his eyes. “I realize you may feel responsible for him after having his life spared, but you cannot save him each time. After all, gladiators die—it is their lot in life. It is best not to get too attached to them.” Her father went back to his figures. “I do not want you carrying on like you did when that cat of yours got run over by the wine cart.”

“Father!” Sabina ground her teeth in frustration. “I was only five when that happened. And besides, he is not a cat. He is a man.”

He slammed his tablet on the table, causing her to jump. Pressing both hands on the wooden surface, he rose and leaned over the table until his face was only inches from hers.

“No, Sabina, he is not. He is like the cattle and fowl slaughtered for our meals. He was born for a purpose, and that is to perform in the arena, not to be your charity case. He is a creature put on this earth for our amusement. You cannot think of him as a man, because he is not.”

“He certainly looks like a man to me,” Sabina grumbled.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, Father.” She bit her lip, cursing herself for voicing the observation out loud.

Her father cocked his head and stared at her with an odd look in his eye. He pushed himself away from the table and clasped his hands behind his back, making his protruding stomach stick out all the more.

“You will be seventeen this year, will you not?”

She rolled her eyes. “I turned seventeen last month.”

“Did you? Well, then, it is definitely past time to find you a husband. You will accompany me on my next trip to Rome, and we will find you one. With your lovely face and figure, we should have no problem finding a suitable match, perhaps even a senator or praetor. Your uncle would be pleased at that.”

“Marriage?” The word stuck in Sabina’s throat.

“Yes, marriage. As soon as possible, I should think. Seems to me you need something to occupy that busy little mind of yours besides some worthless gladiator.”

* * *

“I asked my father to buy you.”

Shock seized the air in
Dacian’s
lungs, turning it to ice.

“You did
what
?”

Did she even realize the risk she took in making such a request?

“I had to do something. The thought of you here, locked up in this place like an animal…” Sabina wrapped her arms around her narrow waist, “… or in the arena, fighting for your life. I cannot bear it.”

“What did he say?” He waited, already knowing what the answer was by her forlorn expression, but hoping against hope that it would be otherwise all the same.

Her shoulders slumped.

“He was so angry that I would even contemplate such a thing.” She paced the cramped confines of his cell. “He started questioning me. I had to lie. If he were to find out that I came to see you, he would forbid me from ever coming again.”

A hollow, gaping hole punched through
Dacian’s
chest, as if an invisible hand had reached in and ripped out his heart. What he had long dreaded—what he knew he would eventually have to do, but had avoided until now—had to be done. Though he longed for her friendship and craved the very sight of her, she couldn’t return. Not after what she had done. Now it was beyond dangerous for her.

“Perhaps it is for the best.”

“What do you mean?”

He heard the waver in her voice, the confusion at his cold tone. He steeled himself, knowing what he was about to say would drive her away. He hated to hurt her, but to protect her, he would.

“This is no place for someone like you.” He straightened and nearly choked on the lie of his words. “I do not want you to come back. I wish to never see you again.”

She inhaled sharply. He walked to the back of his cell, turning his back on the pain he was deliberately inflicting on her.

He ran his finger along the mortar between two stones, choosing his words carefully. The desire to see her and the need to shield her were tearing him apart. But he couldn’t let her come to care for him, to feel for him what he was beginning to feel for her. Because if she did, it would destroy her to have to watch him die.

“When everything in life is pain, then the horror of it is always the same, and it does not seem so bad. But when I have a glimpse of what happiness can be, it reminds me how hopeless everything actually is.”

He turned to look at her and prayed that she would understand. Every day, the joy of her being here followed by the desolation of watching her leave was killing him as surely as if he stood in the arena without sword or shield.

“Being with you makes me want something I can never have.”

She sank down on his bed. “Is there no way out for you? No way for us to be together?”

He leaned his back against the wall.

“Only if I can stay alive and win at the games, then I might earn my freedom. But that takes years, and each match I win means another man loses, another man dies. I do not know if I can keep killing, even if it is to save my own life.”

The color leached from her face. “But you must stay alive.”

“Why? What life would I have outside the arena, even if I could gain my freedom? You know as well as I that slave gladiators are treated with no more respect than the lowest of whores. I have been trained to kill. That is all I know.”

“What will you do then?”

Dacian
shook his head, looking off into the distance, anywhere but at her pleading face.

“I do not know. The last time I was in the arena, I had given up. I was ready to die.” His gaze returned to lock with hers. “But you stopped it. You took the choice away from me just as surely as these walls take away my freedom.”

Sabina jerked as if he had struck her.

“I am sorry,” she said, her tone curt. “I thought you would want to live.”

“And I thought I wanted to die. But when I looked up and saw you standing there, so brave and proud, for a moment I thought maybe there was a reason for me to go on. A reason to fight to live.” He raised his arms, indicating the confines of his cell. “But then they brought me back here, to these cold stone walls to wait for the next games, the next chance to die, and I wondered again if I should not just give up.”

“
Dacian
, no.” Sabina rose to her feet. “Do not give up. Do not ever give up.”

She reached out and touched his arm. He flinched, like an animal unaccustomed to human contact. He pulled away from her, because he was—nothing more than a caged animal.

“No matter what happens, I care. I care whether you live or die.”

“Why?”

The single word a challenge. He still did not understand it, why someone like her would care for someone like him.

“Why not? What makes you less worthy than any other man?”

“I am not like other men.”
Dacian
snorted, his lip curling in disdain. “You should be with some senator’s son, eating figs and drinking wine. Not locked in a filthy gladiator’s cell with a trained killer.”

“You sound just like my father.” Sabina stalked a few steps away. “It appears we are both trapped in our own prisons.”

Something in her voice made him pause.

“What do you mean?”

“My father intends to find me a husband the next time we go to Rome.” She fisted her hands at her sides. “I could just scream at the irony of it all. You cannot buy your freedom, and mine is about to be sold.”

She spun around and waved one hand up and down the length of her body. “Behold, a piece of merchandise to be auctioned off to the highest bidder who can cushion my father’s purse and improve my uncle’s career. Like you, I have no choice in my own fate.”

He could feel Sabina’s desperation and hopelessness, and it nearly mirrored his own. Even though he hadn’t the right, he wanted to howl at the thought of her in another man’s arms, another man’s bed.

“So you see, I am just as trapped as you are. I know how you feel. The very thought of being possessed by a man I do not love makes me wish for death, too.”

Cold rage coiled within him that she would think to embrace so casually that which he faced every day. He reached Sabina in two strides.

“You know nothing of death.”
Dacian
grabbed her by her shoulders and shook her. “Not until you have faced it, smelled its breath, and tasted it in your mouth. Not until you have seen fear reflected in another man’s eyes as you spill his life’s blood onto the sand of the arena. You may be trapped, but your prison has gold bars and silk pillows. You sleep on a soft bed and awake each morning to know that you will live another day. You want for nothing in your life.”

Sabina struggled within his grasp. He knew he was scaring her, but he didn’t care. She should be afraid.

“Stop it!”

“You little fool. How can you even begin to think about dying? Long after I have lost my last battle in the arena, you will be secure in your life, happy in your marriage and the children it will bring. You will have everything you could possibly want, living in your fine villa with your powerful husband.”

“But I don’t want any of that!”

“Then what do you want?” he growled.

She tried to pull away from him, but he would not release her. Instead, he pulled her closer until they were chest to chest, and she was forced to look him in the eye.

“What is it you want, Sabina?”

“You!”

She instantly stopped fighting him. They both stood still, frozen by the meaning behind that single word.

“I want you,
Dacian
.” She spoke the last words so softly, he wasn’t certain she’d said them at all.

All the air was ripped from
Dacian’s
lungs. He found it difficult to breathe, and the sound of his blood pounding in his ears nearly drowned out the thunderous beating of his heart.

He could not believe the fates would torture him so.

She leaned into him, so close that he feared she could feel him tremble, that she would know how her words made him want to drop to his knees from the need of her.