Jovan’s assistant clanged the bell again for a second silence that was longer in coming than the first.
“Only the best of the gladiators will be allowed to fight before our illustrious emperor. The results of preliminary matches between the four ludi will determine who will go. I have great expectations for you all, andI know you will meet and exceed them. Training for the games begins at first light. Rest well tonight. You’ll need it.”
With that, Jovan left and the room erupted in a jumble of voices, cynical and excited at once.
“Fighting before the emperor?” Dreda breathed, her skin somehow paler now. “I can hardly speak for thinking about it. Can you imagine the spectacle that will be? The costumes and sets... I wonder what the theme will be. Oh, I hope it’s something good. I look sickly in yellow.”
One of the Hildas spoke up. “Not all of us will go. Jovan said so. Only the best.”
“What are you suggesting?” Dreda’s voice took on an instant chill. “That I’m not good enough?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Dreda turned to Berit. “At leastIdon’t cringe and run away from the blade.”
Berit straightened, eyes narrowed to smug dagger points. “It matters little when the crowds favor blondes over brunettes.”
And yet, they were all considered barbarians.
“They will need us all.” Adel’s voice went steely, brooking no argument. “Do not give them the power to divide us.”
Tilla wiped her wrist across her mouth as she set her mug of ash-water down. “That doesn’t mean we’ll please the emperor. Or be liberated. The Ludus Magnus has Vesuvia and Calypso, and the Dacian School has the Tigris and Strix—even you have only beaten her once.”
“With enough work, anything is possible.” Adel lifted her chin and her mug, hoping she could convince them. Needing to convince them.
Dreda shrugged and raised her own mug. “As long as they don’t give us yellow costumes.”
The Hildas followed suit, thudding their mugs against Dreda’s and reaching to salute Berit’s half-raised cup. Tilla only raised hers to her mouth.
“To wealth, and status, and the love of the people,” Dreda said.
Adel raised her own mug in a tiny salute on the way to her lips.To independence.
X
22 NOVEMBER, AD 403
Felix paused on the street outside the church, while Mater and the girls filed in without him.
Oppia shot him a mournful look and tugged on his hand. “Why can’t you come inside, too?”
“You know why.”
She crossed her arms, head tossing from side to side as she recited in a rather spit-fiery tone, “Because you work with gladiators, and good Christians aren’t to have any part with violence.”
Felix nodded. “That is true.” After ten years away from his family in Alexandria, he’d been looking forward to worshipping with them, although it was rare that the rest day at the ludus coincided with a Sunday. Months ago, however, when he’d tried to enter, a man of the church had drawn him aside quietly, to inquire after his work since he’d been seen entering the ludus. To his credit, the man had kept the thing quiet but urged Felix to reconsider his place of employ. Until he made the change, he wasn’t welcome inside. “The church leaders take greatcare to bring people to repentance and right living. And because of where I work, it would look like—”
“Butyoudon’t fight. You save their lives. You—you’re ahero.”
He smiled. “I’m glad someone thinks so.” He tugged her dark braid and turned her slim shoulders toward the open doorway where Mater, Felicia, and Cassia stood just inside waiting.
“Listen well and tell me all about it.” He gave her a gentle push.
The church was new by Roman standards, only having been a Christian meeting place for the past century and a half. The basilica had once been the domus of wealthy Christian merchants and had been converted to a church sometime after their martyrdom. Felicia had swooned over the story, but Felix couldn’t recall the whole thing. Something about a marriage ban, clandestine weddings, and a rebel priest. Shewouldenjoy stories like that.
Oppia pouted and balked. “What doyoudo while we’re in church?”
“I worship on my own.”
