I woke alone, with my hand fast around the wooden sword.I hadn’t let it go, even when I’d coupled with Lucia on the low bed, using the thing as a brace on the floor.
Lucia was gone.Sunlight stabbed into my eyes from a crack in the wall—no windows for Lucia.My hand ached but I could not make myself open it and set therudisaside.
“Leonidas.”
The voice belonged to Floriana, scratchy and thin, like the rest of her.Very black hair curled around her sharp face.
“Bring me breakfast,” I said.My head ached like fury, and I wasn’t happy to be alone.Lucia usually stayed with me until I was ready to leave.
“Do you have the coin for it?”Floriana demanded.“And for Lucia?”
I rolled over.I wore nothing, but Floriana, who had seen any number of males with all sorts of bodies, didn’t blink.
“Coin?”I asked muzzily.
Floriana folded her arms.“You’re a freedman.Means your masters don’t fund your meals and your women anymore.I need paying.”
She had a point, one I hadn’t given a thought to.Aemil had paid Floriana handsomely for me to march to Lucia whenever I wished.I always chose Lucia, she with her quick smile and skilled hands.I pretended to myself that she liked me, and I knew I liked her.
Now I’d have to pay Floriana and buy my own breakfast, but I hadn’t the least idea what it would cost or where I’d get the money.
I lay back down and put a hand over my eyes.The sun was merciless and my head throbbed.“I’ll find the coin.”
The smooth end of a stick poked me in the ribs.I growled and lunged for it, but Floriana danced away.
“Out, Leonidas.I need the bed.”
I sat up.Out where?I dimly remembered Regulus stealing my cell last night.Now Floriana was turning me out of this one.
So this was freedom.Nothing to eat, nowhere to sleep, and no money to buy even my basic needs.
Aemil had offered a solution to me.Remain at theludus, train others to kill, fight a few exhibition matches to show off my prowess.That was what former gladiators did, Aemil among them.Perhaps one day I’d start my ownludus.
No more death.
I growled at Floriana.Any number of men, gladiators included, shrank from that growl, but not Floriana.She knew me too well.
Smothering a grunt of pain, I heaved myself from the bed.I towered over Floriana, filling the cell, but she never flinched.
“Man outside wants to speak to you,” she said as I reached for my tunic.“Wants to hire you, perhaps.If he does, first person you pay with what he gives you is me.”
I gave her a nod, finding this only fair.I couldn’t imagine who waited for me, and I didn’t much care.I wanted only to sleep and not wake for several days.I’d done that before, after horrific matches.When Xerxes had died, I’d not emerged for almost a month.
It was not easy to don my tunic while I still held the sword, but even now I could not make myself release it.My hand was cramped, locked around the wooden hilt.
I managed to slide on the tunic, the sword tearing the fabric.Floriana watched me with great amusement.I gave her another growl as I ducked out of the cell, nearly banging my head on the low lintel.
The house was quiet as I strode down its middle passage, making for the square of too-bright sunshine that awaited me at the end.
I emerged from the doorway into December coolness and the glare of light on pavement.The sun was well up, and even the high buildings that lined the street provided no shade.
A small man in a fine tunic waited outside.He had a neat, slim face, trimmed hair, and wore shoes rather than sandals, well-made pieces of leather that fit his feet exactly.
“Leonidas the Spartan.”The greeting held a touch of derision.
I gave him a curt nod.
“The gods have smiled upon you,” the man went on in the same tone.“Freedom and a benefactor.How fortunate you are.”
