Michelle Styles - The Gladiator's Honor

'There is a sizeable crowd of spectators today,' he said, changing the subject. 'Caesar is whetting the appetite of the mob, trying to ensure his games are a success.'

'Aye, that there is and your girlfriend is among them.'

Valens froze.

'What girlfriend would that be, Tigris?' Valens asked with a hearty laugh. He knew without looking whom Tigris meant, but it bothered him that Tigris had guessed so easily.

'The woman you and Aquilia fought over. He is still is raging about it, vows he will harm you and the woman.'

'She is the daughter of one of Caesar's prominent clients,' Valens retorted, surprised at his growing alarm for Julia's safety. 'He would never dare try to harm someone like that.'

'Since when has a little thing like that stopped Aquilia?'

'What are you talking about, Tigris?' Valens felt the bile rise in his throat. He hoped it was another one of Tigris's jests, a wind-up to see how Valens would react.

'Haven't you heard? Haven't you been listening to the gladiators' mess hall?'

'I have little time for myths and legends, Tigris.' The sweat on the back of his neck turned ice-cold.

'You should pay more attention.' Tigris's eyes were shadowed. Valens noticed how old and careworn his friend looked. 'Aquilia has a reputation for being ruthless, for going all out to win. He seems to know instinctively where an opponent's weak spot is. He has the uncanny ability to bewitch them, turn them to stone, so they say. Hylas barely blocked any of his blows when they fought in Capua two months ago, he stood just there with his shield down and you know his reputation for ferocity.'

'Old wives' tales. Hylas was unlucky that day and let his guard slip. His mind was on other things. Two nights before, armed men attacked Hylas's wife in her house and left her for dead.' Valens looked at his nails. 'I believe I have the measure of the man.'

'It is the other thing that bothered me.'

'In this business the arena must be everything. A gladiator must be able to focus solely on his work.' Valens wondered who he was trying to convince—Tigris or himself.

'You have no idea how much I worry about Maia and the children. Will I behave like Hylas in the arena when faced with Aquilia? And it wasn't just Hylas, you know, there were seven others who had it happen to them in the exact same manner'

'Their women were attacked before the fight?' Valens looked sharply at Tigris as a stab of concern sliced through his body. He had to protect Julia. He'd sooner cut off a finger than have one hair on her head harmed.

'No, became like stone after Aquilia fixed them with his eye. He bewitched them. They say he has magic powers obtained from the demon goddess he worships. Tell me when a rentarius last made the first hall.'

'Tales best told around the brazier, Tigris, along with all the other myths.' Valens forced a laugh from his throat.

'But this time I believe them. Maia and the children need me.'

Valens clapped his friend on the back.

'You need not worry. Have you ever lost in the arena?' 'I can't help it. You wait until one other person becomes the centre of your being.'

'Aquilia will meet me,' Valens said forcefully. 'Not you.'

'It could be any of the first-hall Thracians he fights…'

'Do you think with the betting that is going on, Caesar will miss a chance like this?' Valens shook his head and laid a hand on Tigris's shoulder. 'No, my friend, stop staying awake during nights, Maia and your children will be safe. One day, Fortunata willing, all you will have to worry about is when the barley is ripe.'

'I pray to the gods you are right, but he has vowed vengeance on you and your girlfriend for the insult you paid him.'

'Aquilia should grow up.'

A liquid laugh floated on the breeze towards him. Valens turned to see Julia merrily chatting to her friend, underneath the shade of a green silk parasol. He started to go towards her, then checked his footsteps. He refused to put Julia into danger. He had to protect her in the only way possible. He had to make Aquilia think she no longer mattered. It was going to cut like a knife to do it, but he had to—for Julia's safety.

'You were wrong, Claudia,' Julia said, shading her eyes with her hand and peering out on to the sand-strewn ring. 'We arrived in time. They were taking a break. The gladiators are about to start practising again.'

'Thank the Good Goddess. We appear to have missed the third hall and tiros in their practice bouts. The best gladiators are yet to come. These are the ones I am interested in. Pay attention to their feet and legs. You can learn a lot about how the bout will go from the way a gladiator moves his feet.'

Julia watched the gladiators as they marched on to the sand and gave a salute before dividing into pairs. She scanned the groups until she caught sight of Valens's broad shoulders. Her stomach gave a nervous jump.

He was dressed in his full regalia: armour, grieve and helmet It was only from the set of his shoulders and the way he carried his sword that she recognised him.

He closed the visor of his battered helmet with a distinctive movement and crouched down.

'Are they going to fight with real swords?' she asked Claudia. 'I thought they practised with wooden swords.'

'The swords are blunt, but they are real,' Claudia answered in a distracted voice. 'It should give the public a good idea of who is in form for the games. Did you see the blow that Tigris just gave that second hall? It was superb.'

'I am not sure how you can tell them apart.' Julia kept her eyes on Valens as he circled his opponent, jabbing right, then left with his sword, probing. "They all look the same to me.' Except for Valens, she silently added.

"Their helmets are all different. It is one reason for the popularity of the figurines. If you study the helmets, you can determine who is who. I've seen Tigris fight before and his is easy to pick out—it is in the shape of a tiger. Valens is that one over there. The rentarius paired with him is called Hermes. He is supposed to be fleet of foot—see the wings etched on to his breastplate.'

Julia gave a brief nod. The arena resounded to the ring of steel against steel as the gladiators clashed, parried and clashed again.

Valens's skill, which she had seen at her father's, seemed to desert him. Julia's heart leapt in her throat as Valens slipped to the ground, and had to use his shield to ward of the blows his opponent rained down on him with his trident. He rolled in the dirt, scrabbling to his knees.

Julia saw his opponent knock Valens again, and Valens half-staggered. She grasped Claudia's hand, wanting to look away, but was unable to tear her eyes from the scene.

When she was certain Hermes had beaten Valens, he lifted his shield and sent Hermes's trident spinning into the air. Immediately Valens counter-attacked and put his sword to Hermes's throat. Hermes raised his left hand, signalling his defeat. The bout was over. Valens had triumphed.

Julia sank down on a wooden seat, her heart thumping in her ears. Her arms trembled as if she had been the one in the fight, instead of being an interested bystander.

'That was quite a bout,' Claudia remarked with obvious satisfaction, twirling her parasol. 'Such moves and such skill.'

'Will they fight this hard in the games?' Julia asked around the lump in her throat. At least three times she thought Valens would be severely injured. The memory of the gashes on his torso burned on her brain. From this distance, it was impossible to tell if he was hurt. She narrowed her eyes and tried to look for any red gashes or any other sign of injury. But Valens appeared to be fine. Julia drew a deep calming breath.

'Harder and faster. The thrill of the contest fills the very air you breathe. The weapons they fight with during the games are razor sharp. They are tested before the games begin to show the audience.' Claudia's eyes glowed. 'If you thought this was thrilling, wait until you experience the real thing. The excitement is unbearable when the gladiators walk into the ring. Whom will the gods choose to favour that day? Who will live and who will die?'