Michelle Styles - The Gladiator's Honor

The thought shook her to the core. She needed something to warn her to keep her distance before she threw herself at his feet.

It was all too easy to see now with these women milling about ogling him why he had made the mistake of yesterday. How many of them had figurines of Valens locked away in their private cupboard next to their jars of ointment, pots of white lead and caskets of wine dregs?

Julia bowed her head.

'Did you see much of the ceremony?' he asked, making no move to leave. If anything, he stood closer. 'I thought it went down rather well.'

He reached down a hand, caught her wrist, pulled her upright, then let go. Julia felt the sparks radiate upwards.

'I…I came with my friend Claudia. She is Caesar's niece.'

Julia motioned to Claudia, who gave a small gasp and sank into a curtsy. 'And a great supporter of the gladiator contests, a real aficionado. She collects figurines.'

Valens raised an eyebrow and gave a slight bow. Julia wondered if her own face was as beet-red as Claudia's.

'Claudia is not of the same persuasion as you? Perhaps between us, we can convert you to the games.'

'I saw you at Pompeü three months ago,' Claudia gasped, grabbing on to Julia's arm with a vice-like grip. 'You fought magnificently. I mean, I normally support the Great Shields, but you fought so brilliantly. I loved the way you did that last slash of your sword and knocked the renarius's trident away so he had to ask for mercy. I thought you deserved a rudius for your performance…'

'Thank you.'

Valens made a small salute with the hand holding his helmet. Almost identical to the salute he'd given at the end of the ceremony. Was it her imagination or did Valens look vaguely uncomfortable? Julia silently wished Claudia would not gush.

'Did you enjoy the presentation ceremony, Julia Antonia?' he asked when Claudia had paused for a breath.

Julia patted a stray lock of hair into place as she tried to think. She wanted to say something intelligent, but not fawning. She'd refrain from gushing.

'It was fairly impressive. Everyone should look splendid—fighting in their new armour.' Julia rolled her eyes as she listened to her voice, dripping with honey. She sounded worse than Claudia.

'Certainly for the opening parade when we ride the chariots out,' he said, his voice flowing over her again, sending tingles down her spine, 'but I'm superstitious, as are most of my colleagues, and prefer to fight using tried and trusted equipment.'

Julia gripped Bato's collar tighter. She stared at him, locking eyes, wondering what else she could say, what words she could use to prolong the encounter. In a breath, he'd be gone. Venus knew when she'd have a chance to speak with him again.

'Julia,' Claudia said, cutting across her thoughts, 'I've just remembered—there's something I have to do. Someone I have to see.'

Julia felt a weight roll off her shoulders. The gods had decided for her. Some god had taken pity on her, decided she had embarrassed herself enough for one day. Julia scooped Bato up in her arms.

'If you want to leave…'

'No, no, you stay and talk to your gladiator.' Claudia patted Julia's shoulder and disappeared in a cloud of expensive perfume and jangling bracelets before Julia could protest.

Bato wriggled out of her arms and went to sit by Valens. Julia stared at her sandals, rather than meeting Valens's eye. He was sure to have the same knowing smile of yesterday plastered all over his face. She was certain she appeared to be one of those Roman matrons who ran after gladiators and paid them for their services.

If only the ground were to open up and swallow her, Julia thought. Even her dog and best friend were conspiring against her.

'I am glad I have a chance to talk to you,' she said at last, breaking the silence that had descended after Claudia's departure.

'Yes?' he said with a lifted eyebrow—the tone of his voice implied he was tolerating her and looking for a way to end their encounter.

Julia squared her shoulders and tilted her chin upwards. She had to say it before she made a spectacle of herself, before the attraction she felt growing inside of her took firm root.

'About this morning…' she began. After two tries where no words came, she transferred her gaze from his face to the ground, keeping her eyes trained firmly on his sandals. 'I wanted to say…that is…I am not the sort of woman who behaves in that way. I am a Roman matron who keeps to her ideals.'

There, she had said it. She thought she'd feel much better, but she felt worse.

He lifted her chin with gentle probing fingers. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. His brown eyes seemed filled with some emotion. After searching her face with intent eyes, he let go of her chin and his face became inscrutable.

'Forget it. I already have,' he said.

Valens moved back a little from Julia, trying to regain some measure of calm and distance. Her very scent of flowers and honey threatened to overpower him and the resolutions he had made this afternoon. He hated himself for lying to her and seeing the flash of hurt in her eyes.

All throughout morning practice, he had found it impossible to get her out of his mind. It was far better to stop things here before they started. The last thing he needed was an added distraction. And Julia Antonia was definitely that.

Despite his resolutions, his heart had beat faster when Bato appeared from nowhere to clamber on the stage. It made the ceremony more special to know that Julia was somewhere in the crowd, that she was watching him receive this armour.

He had pushed the thought away. Why should he care? He thought about shooing Bato away, but then the dog started to play tug of war with Aquilia's net and he refused to abandon the scamp to Aquilia's wrath. He had planned on returning him quickly, but the sight of Julia enveloped in her deep red layers made him want to linger. He knew the underlying curves, curves that had moulded to his body this morning.

The brief look of bewilderment in Julia's eyes made things harder. Valens shifted uncomfortably and wanted to take back the words. He had stated it badly. He wanted to reassure her, but the words made him sound callous.

'Have you had anyone look at your ankle?' he asked.

'It is much better,' she said with a voice chipped out of marble.

Valens ran his hand through Ins hair, confused between his determination to keep his focus on his work and his desire for Julia. He should be rejoicing that she was annoyed with him.

'That's not what I asked. Have you sought proper treatment, like we discussed yesterday?'

'It appears to be healing on its own,' she said, pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders, 'I see no need. Now, if you'll excuse me…'

Valens reached out a hand and caught her shoulder, holding her back. He should let her go, leave her to the Fates, but his conscience refused to let him.

'The surgeon is over there.' Valens pointed to where the school's surgeon stood, examining the shoulder of a young tiro who had won his proper sword this morning. 'It will only take him a little while to determine what is wrong with your ankle and if you will need further treatment.'

She jerked her shoulder out of his grasp and stood staring daggers at him.

'I think I am the best judge of how my ankle is. I have managed quite comfortably all day. Now, if you will release my arm, I will go and take Bato home.'

Valens clenched his fist and contemplated marching her over to the surgeon. Had he ever met a more stubborn woman? Why did she refuse to do what was best for her?

'You are not going anywhere until you get that ankle looked at.'

'Under whose orders?' she snapped back, tilting her chin in the air and crossing her arms. Her green-shod toe was just visible under the hem of her gown, tapping away.