Michelle Styles - The Gladiator's Honor

'I will,' she said, the brooch dangling from her fingers. 'But there will be no need. You said you will survive. You will be able to give it to him yourself.'

His hand stroked her cheek and then fell to his side. He took the brooch out of her palm and pinned it to the cord of her stola . 'It has helped keep me safe and has served to remind me what I am fighting for. Now I don't need any reminders. I know what I am fighting for.'

'And that is…' The world was blurring in a mass of tears. Julia blinked rapidly.

A trumpet sounded again.

'I shall go now. Be a Roman matron for me and let us have no tears.'

He gave her hands one last squeeze and then strode away, laughing and joking with one of the School's servants. Julia whispered a prayer as she touched the pendant still warm from his skin.

'It is always the same,' a low musical voice said next to her. Maia had glided up. Her laughing face was now solemn and a tear glistened on her cheek. "They think it is a big joke and we are left behind to worry.'

'You are Tigris's wife?'

'That is right, and you are the woman who has captured Valens's heart.'

'For now at any rate…'

Julia felt her cheeks colour as the woman's cool eyes assessed her.

'You are the first woman he has ever allowed to wear his brooch. It is very precious to him.'

Julia put her hand to her throat. She stared across to where Valens's chariot had stood. There were so many questions she wanted to ask him, things she should have said. Her insides were torn apart with a mixture of happiness and rage. 'I am just looking after it for him.'

'If you would like, you may sit with us, with the rest of the gladiatorial family.' Maia shifted her toddler on to her other hip.

Julia shook her head. The temptation was almost too great but then she thought of her father and of what Valens had said.

Valens had refused to let her make that choice. He had not asked her to sit with the other women who belonged to gladiators. He had forbidden it. For now, she had to respect his wishes and show him that she was worthy of his trust. 'That would be impossible. I am here with friends, friends I need to find.'

Maia nodded, but then produced a small ticket stamped with a lion. 'Should you change your mind, give this ticket to the porter, and he will show you the spot.'

She was gone before Julia had a chance to give the ticket back. She stared at it for a long time and started to walk towards the Circus. The crowds had thinned, but the atmosphere was still one of a public holiday.

'You took your time about getting here,' Poppea said crossly when Julia found them in the crowded street outside the Circus Maximus. 'I thought you were lost. I was about to send one of my servants to find you.'

'The streets were blocked because of the parade route,' Julia said, gasping for breath. She wiped a trickle of sweat from her forehead and refused to think how she had gone down several blind alleys and had taken several wrong turns. 'Has the procession arrived yet?'

'We and the rest of humanity would be inside if it had,' Poppea commented. 'I can hear the trumpets now.'

Julia caught Claudia's eye and shrugged. She had not anticipated there would be so many people here. It seemed as if the whole of Rome had turned out for Caesar's games. She thought of the faces of Maia and her children after Tigris left and contrasted it with the happy excited faces of the supporters. The families had the nervous anticipation of death and the supporters would only see the spectacle. Julia shivered despite the heat and readjusted her shawl. She knew which she would see and offered another prayer up to Venus that Valens might be safe.

With each step she took up the steep staircase to the wooden stalls where their seats were, she said a prayer.

'You are not afraid of heights, Julia,' Poppea said as they sat down. 'Your face is as white as a ghost.'

'Heights, crowds—this is not my idea of an ideal day out,' Julia replied, sinking down on to the bench. She looked down and saw the sandy oval curve away from her. The few men who were raking the sand smooth looked more like figurines than people. 'How can you see anything up here?'

'It is one of the best views…for women,' Claudia said and laid her hand on Julia's arm. 'Don't worry, Julia, Valens will win. He has not lost a match yet.'

Julia gave a brief nod. If she started to confide in Claudia, all her fears would pour out and she'd become a gibbering wreck. Valens hadn't even arrived at the arena and already her stomach was knotted so tightly she could barely breathe. Her programme had been twisted and rolled so much she could no longer read the order of the spectacle.

The trumpets blew a long fanfare.

'It is about to start,' whispered Claudia. 'See, Caesar and his family are taking their seats along with the Vestal Virgins. Sometimes I wonder if becoming a Virgin would not have been a better life. At least I would have had a front-row seat at every chariot race, play or gladiatorial bout.'

'Claudia, you like men too well. You would not have lasted a day,' Julia said with a laugh.

Claudia made a face of mock contrition. 'Too true. I suppose there has to be compensations. Just think what those women give up.'

The entire arena fell silent, waiting for the next act in the spectacle to begin.

Valens heard the crowd grow hushed, holding its collective breath, waiting for the grand entrance. In the gladiator's tunnel, everyone was busy with the final preparations.

Gone were the nervous lamentations of last night. All around him he could see pale resolute faces. Even Aquilia's face had lost its usual sneer.

Another blast from the trumpet.

The sound of buckling armour and the snapping shut of visors filled the tunnel. Valens glanced over and saw that Leoparda, the young gladiator who had been punished at Aquilia's request had not put his helmet on, but in fact looked green under his dark skin.

'It will be fine, lad,' Valens said. 'This is what you have trained for. This is your hour of glory.'

'I hope so, Valens.'

'Let's put it this way, lad.' Valens gestured to the group of condemned criminals huddled in the corner waiting for the beast show. 'You have a chance, those poor devils don't.'

Leoparda nodded.

'Once you are in the ring, Leoparda, it will all come back to you. It always does.'

Valens jammed his ceremonial helmet on his head. 'Right, lads, we may have been slaves, prisoners of war and criminals in our past lives, but who we were counts for nothing. It is who we are that matters. The Romans out there are waiting for the chance to sneer and laugh at us. They like to think they are better than us, but we have a chance to prove they are wrong. We are better men than they are. We have gone through hell and back again in our training. Let's show the Romans what we are made of—that we know how to fight and how to die like men!'

A ragged cheer erupted from the gladiators. Valens stepped out on the sandy floor and into the blinding light of the sun.

He touched his cloak where the brooch usually lay and met nothing. He frowned, then relaxed as he thought of Julia. He had no need of a talisman. He knew what he fought for, who he fought for.

He gave a nod to the other first-hall gladiators and squared his shoulders. The training had ended. The spectacle was about to begin.

The crowd erupted in cheers as he appeared in the entranceway. He gave a brief glance at the bright array of colours, hoping to spot Julia, but gave up; it was enough knowing that she was there.

He took measured steps across the arena and stopped in front of Caesar's box. The sound of a hundred pairs of marching feet echoed around the arena behind him, then stopped.

The last cheers of the crowd died away. Except for the fluttering of paper, the entire arena was silent, holding its breath, waiting.