The Gladiator’s Master (7 page)

Gaidres shook his head, turning his back on him again. He did not know why he’d even said his name. He hadn’t in so long it tasted foreign on his tongue and that was just another cut slashed through his soul. There was a time when the name, and the man, was the heart of his life, of his being.

He sensed Caelius approach, though the man did not come too close. “A lover?”

He snarled. “A
love.
The only one.” And the tale burst out of him. A tale he’d told no one. As he spoke, the burning in his eyes grew until he thought he’d unman himself and shed tears in front of this Roman. “When your uncle’s men came and marched through our village on a mission to fill this
ludus
with Thracian blood, I was away from him, meeting with the council. Kerses was busy at the market.” He hadn’t been able to protect him. It haunted him every minute of every day.

He relived it, in halting words. How the council had been stormed, how they’d been helpless because weapons were forbidden in the council chambers. It’d been easy for the Romans to capture them. How the men had laughed over how easy it had been to pick them off. Cowardly Roman scum with better equipment on their side. And still the Romans had lost many in the furious battle. Gaidres told of being chained, shackled to the back of a cart with the others, the village burning, people screaming, the dead everywhere. And then there he’d been. Kerses. Running toward him, and Gaidres remembered every detail of that last moment. He remembered how Kerses’s jet-black hair had blown across his face, its braids loosened. The blood on his face from a gash near his brow. And the terror in his green eyes as his gaze found Gaidres in the cart.

And then the terror was gone from those beloved eyes. Everything was gone from them and he’d fallen, a Roman sword dug deep in his back.

Gaidres closed his eyes, nauseated. “He never caused anyone any injury. Any hurt. And as reward for his gentleness he was slaughtered before my eyes.” He turned his head and opened his eyes to glare at Caelius. “Can you give me
that
undone, Dominus? Can you give me my heart back?”

Caelius seemed stunned, then finally shook his head, dark eyes sad. “I did not know it was my uncle who sent the men that captured you. I’m sorry, Gaidres, but I cannot give you your heart back.”

“I thought not. Keep your worthless apologies to yourself. You’re no better than any other Roman,” Gaidres snarled and then fell silent, heart pounding in his chest. Why had he said those things? Not even Demos knew of his loss.

Caelius poured a glass of wine and handed it Gaidres. He frowned, but after a moment he downed it. Caelius refilled it and poured his own glass, silent for the moment. He was grateful for it, as it gave him time to gather the composure that had been shredded.

“What if I gave you your freedom? It’s not your heart, not even close—”

“Where would I go?” Gaidres cut in harshly. “My home is destroyed, everything I loved gone, Dominus.”

Caelius frowned. “What if I were to take you out of the
ludus?
Give you another position?”

Gaidres stared at him, astonished. “I do not
want
anything from you, Dominus. You may offer as many enticements as you like and it will never be enough. So do not even try.” His stomach churned at the idea that Kerses’s death would somehow be exonerated by the offering of a different slave position or some other piteous payment. “You cannot
buy
a clear conscience.”

Caelius frowned. “I do not know what to say, what I can give…”

“You cannot give me anything!” Gaidres slammed the cup down and cursed ever saying anything. No man, no Roman, deserved to know what they had cost him. He still did not know why he had finally broken his silence. “You say ‘What if I gave you this,’ as if you expect me to say ‘Of course! That is the very thing to make me forget that your family is the reason the man I love is dead!’ Is that what you want? What if you did give me my freedom? What if you did give me some other position in your household? What if? What would that achieve?”

Nothing. It would achieve nothing because from the moment the light had died in Kerses’s eyes, Gaidres had become nothing. His life continued only because he could not bring himself to take it. Kerses would have been horrified at the thought of him doing so. Only that, and the hope of avenging Kerses’s death, kept Gaidres from lying down to die and join his love in the underworld.

Caelius stared at him as if he couldn’t understand a love like that. Of course he couldn’t. What did the Romans know of that kind of a powerful connection to someone? As painful as it was now, it had been glorious when Kerses was still alive and they were together.

“You want to die.”

“Yes. Leave me in the
ludus,
Dominus. It is where I belong.”

“If that is your wish, then you shall have it.”

Gaidres watched Caelius as he crossed the room to stand before him. He didn’t know what to expect, but it was not the tender touch of Caelius’s hand against his jaw before the other man closed the distance between them and kissed him.

Gaidres allowed the kiss, though for the first time he didn’t return it. He felt cold inside, in a way he hadn’t for a long time. He should never have spoken of the past. Remembering made his existence seem unbearable now. It would take time to rebuild the walls that held back the flood of memories. Caelius seemed to realize that after a moment and broke the kiss, looking up at Gaidres with confused, sad eyes.

“Apologies for bringing up such thoughts for you, Gaidres. It was not my intent when I called you this night. I do not understand your pain, but I see it is real and I regret having any part in causing it. Truly.” He turned toward the doorway, and after he called to have Gaidres returned to the
ludus,
Gaidres spoke.

“Why do you apologize for what you do not understand?” Why did he apologize at all?

Caelius tilted his head. “Because someone should.”

Gaidres blinked, stunned. As simple as that. He apologized because someone should. No one, in all the long three years Gaidres had been a slave, had ever thought about that. If his pain had been acknowledged at all, it was the physical sort and only in so much as how it would affect his worth.

“You are a strange man.”

A smile flickered over Caelius’s lips. “So I’ve been told, on any number of occasions. I doubt I’ll change at this point in my life. You’ve only known Roman monsters, Gaidres, and not all are like my uncle, who took without a care for anyone but himself. I am not like him. Though, I’ll admit I do enjoy my own pleasures, enough that I sometimes don’t look at where those pleasures come from.”

There was a chasm between them. Two men from such very different experiences that they could never hope to reach an understanding. And he couldn’t understand why Caelius still seemed to want to try.

“You’ve been blessed in some ways,” Caelius said. “As painful as it was to have lost your Kerses, you are the only man I’ve met who has loved so. May you be reunited soon.”

Gaidres gave Caelius a thoughtful look over his shoulder as he was led out of the room. What kind of man was he? Gaidres didn’t understand him and it seemed the confusion was mutual. The strange thing was, Caelius seemed to want to understand Gaidres. Gaidres just wasn’t sure why.

He followed the slave back to the tunnel where two guards awaited and brought him back to his cell. There, he stretched out on his pallet and stared at the ceiling. One by one, stone by stone, Gaidres set to work reconstructing the walls that kept Kerses and his other life confined. Only in dreams did he let them free.

And if, occasionally, Caelius and his strange ways drifted into his thoughts, Gaidres ignored them. He had no care for the man or his baffling behavior. His goal remained. Kill him. Perhaps then the gods would decide he’d served his penance for failing to protect the man he loved.

Caelius seethed with frustration by the time he’d finished seeing to Valeriana’s demands. He understood a part of her discomfort was from the grueling heat in addition to the burden she carried, but he could not give her everything she wished. Not when the demands became that of a spoiled child instead of a woman grown. It made him feel guilty to deny her and he knew she sought that reaction so she could try to manipulate him a little more.

He thought they had understood each other well when they’d pledged to marry. She wanted to be joined with a man of his money and influence, and he’d wanted an heir and the standing such marriages brought to the political arena. Valeriana had known his tastes ran to men, not women. She’d welcomed the idea that she wouldn’t have his constant attentions.

And now she claimed she wanted a divorce, which he just might grant her once the babe was born. Though, in all likelihood, the thought of going back to her father’s would soon change her mind. Nor would her family allow a divorce and lose their chance to grasp more money from him. The truth was, she was better off with him, despite the fact that he did not dote on her as she wished.

“Perhaps a walk would clear your mind.” Felix intercepted him as he left Valeriana’s quarters.

He gave Felix a grateful look. “Join me, please, I need the sound of a voice that speaks reason.”

“I will have to remind you of that the next time we disagree on something, Dominus.” Felix clasped his hands behind his back. Despite the jest in his voice, his manner seemed serious.

Caelius found himself walking down the long walkway to the balcony overlooking the courtyard. He could hear the clash of weapon against weapon before it came into view. He told himself that he merely wanted to see how the men were faring with their new equipment, but knew it for the lie it was. He wanted to see Gaidres.

“Somehow, I am not surprised that we find ourselves here,” Felix said in a dry voice.

“I confess, my friend, that I have a hard time getting the man out of my thoughts.” Caelius rested his hands on the balcony and looked down at Gaidres.

It had been a week since he’d laid eyes on him last. He had not sent for Gaidres, had left him in peace, but the man didn’t see fit to do the same for him in return. He found his thoughts returning to Gaidres often and not just as he lay in bed at night. No, Gaidres entered his mind even when going over documents with Felix or rendering an opinion in the courts. And it vexed Caelius that he couldn’t get one man out of his thoughts.

And what could he say in the face of such anguish as Gaidres had shown him? Mere words were inadequate. There was nothing he could do to comfort that would not cause more pain. Why did Gaidres arouse such tender feelings inside him? Lust, Caelius understood, not this aching for him.

“I have not said anything before, Dominus, and I do not intend to pry, but I think you need to have more care with that one. I’ve seen that he is a man of strong passions, most of them dark.” Felix’s expression was troubled.

“He has more than enough reason for that,” Caelius murmured.

It was no wonder Gaidres’s hatred ran so strong. One question had been answered to Caelius’s satisfaction though. Gaidres was not a criminal, sentenced to serve and die in the
ludus.
No, he had been taken by those with more greed than sense. He’d been taken through the actions of Caelius’s own family.

“I need in some small way to make it just.” Caelius did not elaborate further. That wasn’t his story to tell.

“Caelius, I will be blunt.” Felix turned toward him. He rarely used his name so it spoke to how serious he was to do so now. “You cannot fix everything. Some people are beyond saving. I do not wish to see any part of you hurt. Think on that.”

Before Caelius could respond, Felix took his leave. Caelius found his eyes drawn back to one man. Gaidres sparred with Marius, the strikes and counterstrikes coming so quick that the weapons seemed almost a blur as the doctoré looked on and barked commands. By Jupiter, Gaidres was breathtaking to watch. He moved as if he had been born to hold a sword in his hand. Muscles slick with sweat gleamed in the sun and rippled as he lunged and parried.

Caelius knew Gaidres didn’t want death only for himself. He’d made that clear before and Caelius wondered what had held Gaidres back from killing him already if he truly had a death wish. He’d shown some leadership with the other men. Maybe he didn’t want the
ludus
to go back to the state it had been in with Craxus when it went to another master if Caelius was slain.

After several minutes, the doctoré stopped the bout and spoke with both men, no doubt critiquing their efforts. He then switched the other men around so they were fighting in groups now. Two men having to work together against another team. Caelius stood out there and watched, not paying any attention to the passing of time until Felix returned.

“Dominus, there is a courier here to see you.”

“I’ll meet with him in a moment.” Caelius’s eyes remained on Gaidres as he tried to understand the tangle of emotions inside him. It was a hopeless case. Then Gaidres’s eyes lifted and their gazes caught and it sparked something inside Caelius. Not only lust, though he would have liked to attribute that warm feeling to lust, but more. Gaidres looked at him with those eyes that seemed to touch places inside him.

He frowned, turning away, and told himself that he wouldn’t waste time watching anymore. Deep down he knew it for a lie. “Who is the courier from?” he asked Felix as he walked away, his mind only half on his scribe’s answer. The other half he left behind, still watching Gaidres in his thoughts.

“You’re a fool.”

Gaidres’s head lifted and he scowled at Demos across the table. “And you’re the bastard son of a jackal. Your purpose in stating what is already known?”

Demos rolled his eyes. “You ignore the good fortune laid at your feet. Dominus desires you. You have no disdain to lying with a man, as we both know. So why deny yourself both the pleasure, of which we’ve all heard rumors, and the benefits to be gained by his favor?”

Gaidres’s scowl darkened and he set down his bread. “What do you mean? What rumor has told of any pleasure, mine or his?”

Demos chuckled. “Save your concern. Hierocles made mention of the sounds that filled the villa during times you were ‘reporting’ to Dominus. If it is pleasure so great as it sounded, why avoid it so? Is he cruel?”

Gaidres shook his head. “No.”

“Deformed under his robes?”

“No.”

“Does he desire unnatural things?”

He hesitated, because some would consider Caelius’s desire to be penetrated by a slave unnatural, but shook his head. “No.”

“Then wh—”

“Because I choose to, Demos. By the gods, cease!” Gaidres slammed down his bowl.

Demos glared at him. “Fine. Apologies, I meant no offense.” He shoved away from the table and moved to another.

Gaidres sighed, bending over his meal and scowling at the scarred tabletop. Caelius and their time together seemed inescapable. The man had taken to watching practices every afternoon, though in truth it was Gaidres he watched so intently. Even in his own thoughts Gaidres could not escape him. At the least opportune time, a flash of memory would hit him. A hint of Caelius’s scent on the air as the breeze caught it from the balcony where he watched. A brief vision of the man on his knees, dark eyes hungry, looking up at Gaidres when he was in the baths.

Everywhere and anywhere, even when he wasn’t. It drove Gaidres mad.

And at night, when he lay in his cell, a shaft of moonlight filtering in from the high, small window, Gaidres would find himself reaching down to relieve the need caused from spending each day surrounded by Caelius’s presence.

The sound of voices, faint, caught his attention. He rose from the table, moving to the doorway leading to the practice courtyard. Light spilled from the balcony as Caelius and his ever-present scribe stood overlooking the yard and spoke in low tones.

Gaidres leaned against the wall and watched. He couldn’t make out the words, but he didn’t care what they were saying. He found himself unable to look away, as usual when Caelius was within sight. It made for difficult practice sessions and more cracks of Doctoré’s whip than Gaidres cared to taste.

Caelius turned, as if sensing his stare and though Gaidres couldn’t make out his face with the light behind him, Gaidres knew Caelius saw him. Gaidres didn’t turn away for a long moment, and then straightened, nodding in his direction before turning and disappearing back inside.

It seemed this night would be no different than the last weeks. He was beginning to tire of the company of his own hand and almost wondered if perhaps Demos wasn’t right. Perhaps Gaidres was a fool.

Scowling, Gaidres strode back into the
ludus,
bypassing the other gladiators and heading back to his cell. He kicked the door shut and a few seconds later a metal scrape told him the guards had decided he was retiring for the night and locked it. This was his life. Gaidres dropped onto his cot, one arm under his head, glaring at the ceiling.

He couldn’t keep his mind from Caelius. It was not as if he missed the man. His body craved relief, that was all. Gaidres reached his free hand down and jerked open the fabric of his
subligar,
cock already half-hard in anticipation. He exhaled and closed his eyes as he began to stroke.

As always, thoughts of Kerses filled his mind and he sifted through the memories before settling on one. His mind’s eye wandered, seeing the home they shared in the dark of night, their bedroom, their bed, and Kerses stretched out on his stomach, skin bare and inviting in the shadows as Gaidres approached.

Gaidres climbed onto the bed, crouching over him, cock nudging the smooth, firm curve of his lover’s ass. He smiled and bent to nuzzle the nape of the other man’s neck. He smelled, oddly, of fine oils and spice, making Gaidres’s cock swell even harder.

“Wake, beloved.” Gaidres urged sleek thighs to part for him, nestled his cock between the warm cheeks of the most beautiful ass he’d ever seen. His hands roamed over the other man’s skin, slightly damp with sweat from the sweltering summer heat. “Sleep is for those who know not the pleasures we do.”

His lover laughed. “Ever of the silver tongue, you are,” came a sleep-husky voice.

Gaidres grinned and gave the other man’s neck a sharp bite. “Lift your ass, my love, and I’ll show you the skills of my tongue yet again.”

In his cell, Gaidres’s hand stroked faster, breath shaky as his dream lover did just what he’d asked, lifting his round ass in silent offering. Gaidres groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as his hand worked furiously on his cock.

Gaidres began to work his way down his lover’s body, tongue following the line of his back, the salt of his skin sharp. “You are so beautiful.” He lifted his head, looking down. Fine golden skin, lean muscles, dark curls…Gaidres’s brows knit, as he sensed something was not as it should be.

“What do you wait for, my love?” his lover asked, turning his head. Caelius looked at him, dark eyes filled with longing. “I am yours.”

He cursed, sitting up in his cot, cock still raging hard as he panted and glanced around. The fantasy was gone, and Gaidres’s heart raced. Was there no escaping his Roman lover? Guilt warred with the frustration. How long had his fantasy lover been Caelius and not Kerses?

He dropped back on the bed, ignoring his aching cock. Despite its condition, the last thing he wanted was release. He wanted control of his own thoughts. But, like everything else in his life, it seemed Caelius controlled him there, as well.

Why was it so difficult to remain furious with him, then?

Caelius frowned as he watched the slaves spar in the marketplace, the doctoré by his side as they observed the mock battle. The month had passed and, as Gaidres had predicted, Hierocles, Aemilius and Ianuarius had not recovered. By this point, they would not. And Caelius had been forced to take them out of the
ludus.

He’d kept his promise to Gaidres, though. He’d found work for Ianuarius in his household. Aemilius had been harder to place, as he had fallen in love with a slave girl Craxus had sold some months ago. It had taken a bit of negotiating, but they were now reunited and Aemilius had a new master.

Hierocles had been most vocal over his new situation and in the end Caelius had allowed him to remain in the
ludus
to continue tending the weapons and serving his former fellow gladiators. He wasn’t sure it was the best decision, but Hierocles had seemed so angry over leaving. He’d only settled down after Caelius had conceded.

“What of the Nubian, Dominus?” The doctoré indicated the slave before them. Muscles flowed under dark skin and the man had a fierce expression as he came forward and lowered his eyes. There was a pride in him that reminded Caelius of his lion.

“Was he taken in a raid?” Caelius asked in aside to Felix. He may not be able to take back what had happened to Gaidres. But after Gaidres’s tale, he couldn’t bring himself to give profit to those who engaged in such activities.

Felix blinked in surprise. “I do not know, Dominus. I will inquire for you.”

“Do that, please.”

Felix slipped off as the doctoré gestured for the Nubian to turn around. “If I may speak freely, Dominus, he would be a prize to add to your
ludus.
He would give Marius and Rufus the competition they need.”

“I will consider him, Doctoré. There are a few others I wish to see before I make my final decisions.” Caelius gestured to the slave as he turned around again. “What is your name?”

“Kashta, Dominus.” He didn’t have the accent of other Nubians Caelius had heard. So not taken in a raid, then, or if so, very young. Though there was a fierce pride in him, Caelius didn’t sense any of the smoldering anger that so marked Gaidres. Well, there were many other ways to become a gladiator than through the raids.

“How came you to be a gladiator?” Though he didn’t care for those taken in raids, neither did he want a murderer in his
ludus.
Not when the sparring was so rough and tempers flared often.