The Gladiator’s Master (22 page)

Caelius looked as if he wanted to plead for more time, but he didn’t. He held out his arms for his son and Gaidres handed the babe over to him with reluctance.

“Gaidres, it was never my intent to hurt you. I know you feel like you must fight and I am letting it go, as you let go of your need for revenge. Do what you must, my lion. I will be waiting for you when it is over.”

Caelius stepped toward Gaidres and touched his face, brushing his thumb over the mark on Gaidres’s cheek that was mostly healed. Gaidres’s heart pounded as their eyes met, so close together he could see the flecks of gold in Caelius’s eyes. His lover leaned closer and kissed him as Faustus cooed and chirped between them.

When Caelius pulled back, his gaze was resolute, though pained. “If you have any care for me at all, you will live tomorrow. You will come back to us.”

Gaidres’s eyes closed, for just a second allowing himself to savor the closeness, the soft sounds of the babe, the warmth of Caelius so near him. If he did not know better he might think this was a dream. The kind Caelius had. He wished he did not know better.

He opened his eyes as Caelius took a slow step back. “All will be well, Dominus. You will see.” And then perhaps they could reach some understanding. Perhaps Caelius would not worry so and would realize that just because his daydreams of a life where Gaidres was not a slave and they loved and lived in happiness would never happen didn’t mean they could not have…something. Different, perhaps, but worth having still.

“I pray it is so. I would stay here with Faustus and see him to sleep. You can find your own way back, I trust?” Caelius did not look away from him, as if he hoped for Gaidres to say something more.

“You will see.”

Caelius didn’t say anything, and Gaidres turned to go, making his way back to the
ludus
on heavy feet that did not want to move forward, did not want to take him where he must go.

Caelius
was
a dangerous sort of dreamer. A whisper in the back of his mind reminded him that once upon a time, not so many years ago, he would have considered being a dreamer a charming attribute. As Gaidres lay down on his pallet to the familiar sounds of the
ludus,
it was not laughing green eyes he hoped to see in his dreams. It was gentle, too-serious dark ones. For the first time he allowed himself a daydream or two of his own.

The next morning, Caelius glanced up as Felix hurried into the room. He’d been trying to bury himself in work, unable to sleep very well, though it had hardly been successful. And the expression on the scribe’s face alerted him to a problem. “What is it? Is Gaidres…”

Felix shook his head. “No, Dominus, it is Demos. He is ill. The guards think it likely that he imbibed too greatly last night. Only, I have not known him to do so before, nor do I think he would overindulge last night of all nights.”

Caelius jumped to his feet, another worry hounding him. “Let us check on him. I agree with you, it’s unlikely he would have gotten ill from wine. I’d like to see his condition with my own eyes.”

They heard the moaning before they entered the
ludus
and it was clear that the sounds weren’t just of illness, but of pain too. “Demos! Are you alright, friend?” Gaidres said without an answer, concern in his voice and then Caelius was among the cells and saw Gaidres pressed against the slats of his door, trying to peer around to see his friend. “Demos! What’s wrong?”

The sounds of retching filled the air and Gaidres cursed before he laid his eyes on Caelius. He gripped the slats of his cell door. “Dominus, may I?”

Caelius nodded, gesturing. “Unlock his door.”

As soon as the door opened, Gaidres sprang from it and ran to Demos’s cell, which Caelius also had unlocked. The reek of vomit came from the confines and the sound of pained groans intensified. Caelius frowned as Gaidres bent over his fellow gladiator. What if it was something catching?

“Demos? Demos, what is it?” Gaidres laid his friend back on the cot and Caelius was alarmed to see how ashen he was, his face screwed up in a grimace of pain. A look of uncertainty crossed Gaidres’s face and his eyes were stark when he looked at Caelius. “He has yet to speak a word.”

“Summon the medicus now,” Caelius ordered. This was not a case of drinking too much, nor had he sent down so much that the men could have overindulged. Uneasiness stirred in him. This was a bad omen and all the foreboding that had been haunting him, growing stronger as the weeks passed, came to full flower.

They waited together with Gaidres giving Caelius helpless looks until the doctoré appeared with the medicus right behind him. “Come out of there, Gaidres. Let them see to him.”

“But we can’t leave him in here and the medicus is going with us to the games.” Gaidres’s eyes were dark with worry and Caelius’s expression softened. Demos was more a friend to him than a fellow warrior.

“I have no intention of leaving him in there alone.” Caelius turned to Felix. “Summon another medicus from Fidena to see to him while we are at the games. In the meantime have Demos brought to clean quarters. One of the girls is an herbalist, Gaidres. She can tend him until a medicus from town arrives. She has great skill.”

Gaidres reluctantly slipped out of Demos’s cell, brows knit. “He seemed fine last night. I gave him my portion of wine, but even combined they wouldn’t be enough to cause this.”

Caelius shook his head. “No, he is sick, not suffering from too much wine. Perhaps something in the meal did not agree with him.” Gaidres and Caelius stepped back as several more guards came to move Demos.

Gaidres relaxed a little as Demos opened his eyes and seemed able to answer some questions about how he was feeling. The medicus had Demos whisked off to the infirmary with the assurance that he would likely be fine but he was not going to be able to compete in the Lupercalia games. The doctoré followed to see that he was made comfortable.

Caelius frowned as they left the cell and spoke in a quiet tone. “He will have to be replaced.” He glanced at Gaidres. “Are there any of the men you think would be fit to take Demos’s place in his scheduled battle?”

Gaidres shook his head. “Dominus, Demos is your second best. Anyone who is not already scheduled to fight would not be anywhere near his ability. Marius is closest in skill, but already has his own match.”

“I like this not, Gaidres. It’s a bad omen,” Caelius said under his breath to his lover. He did not want the other men to overhear his words and have their confidence shaken if they were as inclined to believe such things as Caelius was.

“It is a man with a sick stomach, no more, no less,” Gaidres soothed as the doctoré returned to the
ludus.

“Demos is settled in the infirmary, Dominus.” The doctoré looked around at all the other men, gathered at their cell doors watching with varying expressions on their faces, some grim, others stoic.

Caelius came to a quick decision. “We’ll forfeit Demos’s match, then. I’ll not put someone else in his place who isn’t ready for that level of battle. It would be a needless death sentence.”

Surprise crossed the doctoré’s face, but then he quickly masked it. “It shall be as you command, Dominus. If I may be excused? The others would be better off breaking their fast in the courtyard than in here with the reek of illness.”

“I agree.” Caelius caught Gaidres’s hand as the other cells were unlocked and the rest of the gladiators began to file out. He knew that most of the questions he put to Gaidres were supposed to go to the doctoré, but from the beginning he had trusted Gaidres’s opinion. “What do you think of their morale, Gaidres?”

Gaidres watched the others go and then sighed. “They need confidence. They need you to tell them they will be victorious and return to this
ludus
champions all.” He met Caelius’s gaze. “However you feel about today’s games, you must not show it. You must go out there and address your gladiators and give them your confidence. Promises of glory and riches and lifting up your house by their deeds.”

Caelius grimaced. “I know you are right. If I could, I would forfeit all your matches and remain here.”

Gaidres shook his head. “But you cannot.”

“I know.” Caelius drew a deep breath, straightening his robes. “Go, you need your own meal. I will address the men once they have eaten.”

Gaidres bent his head and began to take a step toward the courtyard when Caelius laid a hand on his arm. “Dominus?”

“I just…” Caelius exhaled softly, eyes concerned. “Be safe, Gaidres.”

“I will, Caelius. Now you go, gather yourself and show us the man who whipped his guests into a frenzied thrill the night of the exhibition. You have a way with words. Use it now.”

Caelius watched Gaidres go with his heart in his throat. He wanted Gaidres’s arms around him. He wanted to lure him off to a forgotten corner of the villa and make love with him until Gaidres forgot all about fighting and gladiatorial games. Caelius closed his eyes, trying to soothe the disquiet. Gaidres needed his confidence just as much as any of the other men did. His gladiator would return to him. Caelius refused to believe anything else.

And when he did, they would find a compromise somehow.

Caelius emerged out into the cold courtyard. The men had finished eating and the doctoré had them moving about to warm up muscles. He saw Caelius and turned toward the men, gesturing for them to line up. “Your dominus wishes to address you.”

“You need not cast your eyes on the ground. Today you fight for my house. Today you bring glory to my name and your own. You all are a part of my house and have the right to meet my eyes. I would look upon the men who show such courage and skill and honor them as they honor me.” Caelius stopped in front of them, met each one’s eyes, memorized their faces.

“Every one of you fills me with pride. I have watched the hard work you have done all of these months and today you go out and you will fulfill the promise of all your training. Today you emerge as a key part of the House of Laraniia. Go out today and win. Go out and show everyone why you belong in my house. I swear to you that your deeds and prowess will echo down through the ages.”

There was a roar from the men and Gaidres smiled just for him. “A word, Dominus. Alone?”

Caelius was surprised by the request and by the warm light in the other man’s eyes. He nodded and gestured toward the tunnel. “Come, through here.”

Gaidres followed him, and once they rounded the corner to a bit of privacy, Gaidres propelled Caelius until his back was against the building wall, and kissed him. Caelius clung to him and kissed him back with the same level of urgency.

When the kiss broke, they panted against each other’s lips and Gaidres grinned. “When the day is over, do not wait to call me to you. And when I do as you asked and live, know that I live for another chance to tumble you beneath me and touch your skin.” He pushed away from the wall and Caelius, flashing him a confident look. “I expect you to cheer my victory, Dominus.”

Caelius groaned, his body throbbing. “You are a cruel man, Gaidres.” But then he smiled, a true smile for the first time since their disagreement, and drank in Gaidres’s face, memorizing every feature. His lion would deny it, but he had a gentle soul inside him. “I’ll cheer you, my gladiator. I expect you’ll hear my voice over all others and when you do, know that I’ll be anticipating the battle we will no doubt wage in my bed tonight.”

Gaidres’s eyes flashed a wicked blue. “Of that you can be sure, Caelius.”

Caelius watched his lover go and realized that all the disquiet had disappeared with the taste of Gaidres’s mouth. Today would be a glorious day and when Gaidres returned to him fierce and triumphant, Caelius would have plenty of time to linger with him and win Gaidres’s heart for certain before other games arose.

Smiling to himself, he returned to the villa with a much lighter heart to prepare himself for the day to come. Fidena and the Lupercalia awaited them and afterward Gaidres was his.

Caelius stood tense at the railing, unable to sit as he had been unable the entire games. The crowd roared around him as slaves cleared the remains of the last battle. The bloodlust sickened him even as he began to understand some of the allure of the games. It was as if the mood of one infected them all. And the displays the gladiators had put on thus far had been breathtaking.

Marius and Rufus had done well for themselves, inciting comment and speculation when they won decisively. He looked forward to giving them their prize money with his own hands. Others in his
ludus
had not stood out as much, but Caelius had not cared. At least they were alive and would learn from this experience. Felix had spoken with the medicus to assure him that those wounded would survive. Only one had fallen. Kashta with his dark skin and fierce countenance. A spear had struck him in his upper thigh and he had bled out before anyone could get to him. Caelius swore he would never forget the gladiator’s name.

His hands tightened on the railing as the crowd increased its roaring, stamping feet making the din incredible to hear. This was it, the
primus.
Gaidres’s match. Gaidres…Caelius brought his lover’s face to his mind just before they parted this morning and once again the image soothed him. Gaidres would be victorious. And once he was, Caelius would once again feel his arms about him.

“Do not fret so, Caelius.” Felix touched his shoulder. “Your gladiator is a good man, in many ways. He will prevail.”

“Sooner tell the sun not to rise, my friend.”

Caelius’s breath caught as Gaidres emerged into the bright winter sunlight. He was not as close to him as he had been during the exhibition, but the stance of his body bespoke confidence. As anxious as Caelius was, he smiled. His gladiator was more than ready.

Gaidres lifted his sword and the crowd greeted him in response. Caelius lifted his voice with theirs. “My Lion of Fidena!”

There was little chance that his voice would carry to Gaidres but if he could, he wanted his lover to hear him. He stopped breathing once again as Gaidres’s opponent emerged, a huge man from Gaul, who had won several times in the past.

Caelius tightened his hands until his knuckles turned white and his stomach flipped as the stands seemed to sway. He forced himself to take in a breath and then another. He could not hold it the entire time Gaidres fought. If he fainted from lack of air he would never hear the end of it from Gaidres. Felix touched his shoulder in comfort.

A fanfare sounded as the host of the games stepped forward on his balcony to address the spectators. Caelius did not hear a word and even the sounds of the crowd became muted. Gaidres’s armor flashed in the sun as he and the Gaul saluted the crowd and then each other.
We who are about to die, salute you.
The phrase spoken before the first fight came back to haunt him.

“You will win, Gaidres,” Caelius vowed under his breath. “By the gods, you will win.”

Gaidres stood against the wall. The roar of the crowds and stamping feet shook the dust loose and made the heart tremble. Not out of fear, there was no room for fear, but the bloodlust, the rush of the battle.

He weighed his sword in hand, giving it a few test swipes as the battle in the arena went on. He paid it no mind. It would have been Demos’s battle, which he’d have watched with close interest, but was replaced instead with a gladiator from another
ludus
. Gaidres began to pace impatiently.

Suddenly, the crowd got even louder, deafening even here beneath the stadium, and Gaidres glanced out to see one man standing victorious over the body of another. He firmed his jaw and gave his shoulders a tense roll. He was next. He stared down at the ground, blood soaked into the dirt where the victors and losers had spilled on their way to either the medicus or the pile of dead behind the amphitheatre.

Gaidres closed his eyes, sound seeming to dull and grow dim as he let his mind focus. Caelius. His teasing smile, dark eyes edged with worry. Caelius would be watching. Gaidres would not let him down.

Doctoré clapped him on his shoulder, startling him from his reverie. “You are ready.”

It wasn’t a question, and Gaidres turned to meet the man’s eyes, nodding. The presenter of the games announced the final bout, the
primus,
and introduced Gaidres to the roar of the frenzied crowd.

The gate swung open and Gaidres pulled his helmet on, striding out onto the arena sands.

Gaidres’s breath panted inside his helmet, sweat slicking his brow despite the cold of the day. He turned toward the balcony where Caelius sat and found him amongst the group. His lover watched with avid eyes and cheered as loudly as any of the others. Gaidres’s heart swelled with pride and he raised his sword, pointing it to him in tribute.

“For you.” A part of him swore Caelius heard the whispered promise.

His opponent emerged then, and after the brief formality of paying honor to the crowd and the sponsor of the games, the signal fell and the battle began.

Swords glinted in the harsh sunlight and he dodged around his opponent, who was broader and taller, though with less armor than Gaidres wore. The Gaul made up for in brute strength what he lacked in protective gear.

Gaidres took his first slice at the man, rolling to try and knock his legs out from under him, only to miss and take a hard blow from the Gaul’s shield across the back of his helmet, meant to stun him so the man could swing with his heavy sword. Gaidres managed to roll out of the way and was in a crouch, looking for a chance to strike, when he heard a rumble.

It sounded like thunder at first, but the day was clear. He mistook it for the stamping of the crowds’ feet, but it grew louder and louder, until both he and the Gaul stopped and looked up at the stadium seats surrounding the arena.

Gaidres’s head turned to seek out Caelius in the box where he’d been. Just as his eyes found his lover, Gaidres watched in horror as the stadium seemed to drop out from beneath Caelius and then he was gone, the rumble now a roar so loud it hurt his ears. He opened his mouth to shout as, in a massive wave, the amphitheatre collapsed all around them, clouds of dust and debris rushing into the center of the arena. Gaidres cursed, dirt filling his mouth and clouding his vision as he was knocked to the sand.

Instinct had him covering his head, curling into a ball as the entire world crashed down around him. The roar, like that of a furious Titan, filled his ears as the stadium crumbled.

When the world finally ceased exploding, Gaidres tugged his helmet off with shaky hands, coughing and squinting as he peered around through the dust that hung heavy in the air. There were sounds of screams and moans of pain and every now and then a rumble and a crash from some part of the demolished arena as it settled and fell even farther.

Abruptly, his stunned shock dissipated and the only thought that filled his head was Caelius.

“Caelius!” He scrambled to his feet and hobbled toward the pile of rubble where Caelius had been. “Caelius!” Oh gods…gods please…He hurried as fast as he could, leg aching and arm bleeding where a beam had knocked him to the ground and embedded large splinters of wood in his skin. It didn’t matter. Caelius was all that mattered.

He spun in a circle, trying to orient himself and pinpoint where exactly Caelius’s box had been. His eyes fell on the body of a Roman soldier, the man dead and sprawled facedown in the dirt. Gaidres didn’t know what made it occur to him, but he knew that if anyone saw him in his gladiator armor he would be hauled away and held until his owner claimed him.

Gaidres couldn’t let that happen and fell to his knees beside the soldier, hands shaking as he shed his own armor and began tugging the soldier’s from his lifeless body. All the while his heart was screaming at him to
hurry, hurry, get to Caelius now!

Last, he fastened the breastplate on and slid the arm guards and greaves onto his arms and calves and then bolted as fast as he could across the sand to the section where his lover had been. He skidded to a halt and stared, horror dawning, at the pile of broken beams and broken bodies and shattered stone that towered before him.

Somewhere under there was the man he loved. He loved Caelius.

Gaidres let out an inhuman shout of rage at the injustice of realizing his own foolish mistake at the very moment he may have lost Caelius forever.

“No! No!” He scrambled up onto the pile of rubble and beginning to toss what he could aside, scrabbling at fallen beams, shoving aside bodies. Caelius was under there and by the gods he would be alive! He would be.

Gaidres could not lose him. He could not lose another love. He refused and set back to tossing aside rubble in the frantic attempt to get to Caelius, shouting his name all the while.

Caelius awakened with a whimper of pain. There wasn’t a part of him that didn’t scream in agony, though the worst seemed to be in his ribs and head. He tried to shift and found himself pinned. Another lance of pure fire shafted up his leg. What had happened? He’d been watching Gaidres and the next thing he knew he’d been falling and then darkness.

He drew in a breath of dust and debris and began to cough, each wrack increasing the pain in his ribs until he went limp with another moan of pain. His heart pounding, Caelius opened his eyes. There was just enough light trickling from somewhere for him to see the darker shadows of fallen timbers and rocks all around him. One of his legs had been wedged between one length of wood and another.

He felt around the rubble, trying not to panic. He encountered a limp hand sticky with blood and his breath caught on a sob. “Felix?” All around him he heard moans, some stronger than others, but none of them were the voice of his friend.

“Gods, Felix.” He squeezed his eyes shut against the tears and his throat tightened.

The gods had struck down the arena.

“Gaidres!” Caelius called out, the sound more a croak than a shout. “Gaidres!”

His mind spun as he struggled without thought and regard to the pain, fingers scrabbling on rock and splinter of wood, body twisting until his leg was freed. Caelius went limp again, panting and choking on the dust. He may have gotten himself unpinned but he had not been able to do anything about the mass over him and his strength waned.

Gaidres had to have survived. He was not in the stands. Surely his gladiator had survived. Caelius stared at the one little trickle of light so far away. “Gaidres, please…please be alive.” He couldn’t bear the thought of Gaidres being buried too. Not after everything he had already been through.

Time passed, but he had no way of knowing how much. Every once in a while he thought he heard the sound of others attempting to clear the rubble away and every time he did, he shouted, which would raise a chorus of other shouts and pleas for rescue around him. Each time it seemed as if there were fewer voices and the remaining ones sounded weaker. Between bouts of rest he’d try to dig himself out, sometimes shifting more debris on him. But each time his strength ebbed faster and the periods when he could not move grew longer.

Thirst plagued him and the pain made him dizzy. A careful search revealed some blood at his temple that had stopped oozing and Caelius was sure that some ribs had been cracked and he was bruised and scraped all over. Still, he wasn’t bleeding anymore. He could hold on until he was found because he refused to think of being buried under here forever.

Caelius closed his eyes and thought of Gaidres. His lover lived. Caelius knew it in his heart. Gaidres had sworn to him that he would live. Tears stung his eyes. Gods, if Gaidres did live…he must be mad with fear. He had just been starting to care. What if, faced with losing another lover, Gaidres lost his own new will to live? Or what if once Caelius was found, Gaidres decided that he could not risk his heart again?

Tears tracked down Caelius’s cheeks. “Gaidres! Gaidres, I’m here! Gaidres, please hear me!”

Slowly the light around him dimmed. Night was setting in and with it he became aware of the cold. He’d be spending the night underneath this horror with all the slain spirits, including Felix. He shouted and shouted until he went hoarse and passed out again.

When Caelius awoke shivering to the sight of faint light again, his thoughts were woozy. Light…that meant dawn had come. He could hear the sound of rescuers clearer now, but they seemed so far away. And when he tried to call out nothing emerged from his throat but a hoarse moan.

He struggled to hold on to hope, but his mind spun in dizzying circles. What if someone else took Gaidres into their
ludus?
Who would see to his lion, then? Caelius’s eyes had dried up long ago and no more tears would come, though he wanted to weep now. His thoughts flitted from Gaidres to Faustus.

His son…Who would protect him from Valeriana’s grasping relatives? Gaidres would if he could, but if he was taken again he’d never be able to get to Faustus. Helene and his other people in Caere would try, but Caelius knew all too well how the courts worked. He sent up prayer after prayer to the gods. He had to survive. He had to. No one else would shelter Gaidres’s tender heart. No one else would see to it that Faustus was raised in the manner that Caelius had been. Or make sure that Felix’s family was taken care of now that he could no longer send money to them.

As time went on, Caelius’s thoughts became more disjointed and hopelessness sank in as he remained trapped among the dead and dying. Some dim part of him stayed aware enough of the light getting brighter and the sounds coming closer. The pain became a never-ending agony as rocks and timbers shifted. Small bits fell on him and he didn’t seem to have the strength to raise his hands to protect himself.

He heard shouting. Felt a blast of fresh air across his face, then screamed as hands grabbed him. He struggled against them without thought and then all he knew was blessed darkness.

Gaidres’s fingers bled but he barely noticed and didn’t care. The sun began to set and he cursed a never-ending string of promises and threats to the gods as he continued to dig and shout, though his voice was fading as the day wore into evening. All over the fallen stadium soldiers and citizens alike did just as he was, dug and prayed and pulled out the dead and the alive.