to extract the debt?’
‘I am to become a gladiator and fight for his purse. Eventually, should I survive, I can work off my debt and regain my freedom.’
‘Well, that’s not so bad.’ She sat back, pleased to hear the General was not going to execute Titus outright. ‘We will still be together and when we have won our freedom, you can come with me to find my brother.’
Titus laughed, the bitter sound bouncing off the rough walls of the stockade. ‘Your naivety is precious, Xanthe. Even if I survive long enough to buy my freedom, no one expects you to last more than a day in the arena. The only true freedom awaiting us is death.’
‘Don’t say that!’ she cried, crawling over to where Titus lay. ‘They are words of defeat. If you agree to be defeated now, then surely you will be. The Gods will hear such talk and withdraw their support.’ Xanthe rested her hands on his hard chest, her touch a supplication.
Titus turned his head, eyes searching hers in the dim light, a strange look upon his face. She did not understand, surely he did not mean to give up so easily. She had no intention of giving up.
He drew her down beside him, cradling her in his arms.
‘You are right, sweet Xanthe. It is not wise to upset the Gods, and I believe they are on our side. Sleep now, for tomorrow we march to Rome and we will need all our strength for what is to come.’
She burrowed down, drawing him to her. Titus held her tight and entwined his fingers in hers. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Nine
If she lived to be a hundred years old, Xanthe would never forget her first glimpse of Rome as it appeared on the horizon, as they marched down the Appian Way towards the gates of the city. Tombs and memorials lined the road, carved with the stories of the freemen and citizens who had gone before them. She felt a grudging respect for these Romans; they did nothing by halves.
As reluctant as she was to enter the city and meet her fate, a deep curiosity burned within her to explore and see these Romans’ proudest achievement. Xanthe did not think she would ever get her wish, though. The minute she won her freedom she intended to head back to her homeland, Titus at her side.
Xanthe felt a sense of fierce determination at the thought, a determination that lit her from within and would dictate everything to come. She placed one foot in front of the other, her eyes focussed straight ahead as she marched on to her fate.
Titus marched beside her, their shackles clanking in time with their steps. His presence comforted her, offering her the hope that everything would turn out all right. In her heart of hearts, she knew what madness this hope was; yet, at least she would not go through her ordeal alone. Her centurion would be there, somewhere, cheering her on.
Xanthe turned towards him and smiled. How dear his face had become to her in such a short time. Who would have thought she would fall in love with a Roman? How her kinsmen would laugh. She had every intention of surviving long enough to hear their laughter.
The Legion marched through the gates of Rome. The centurions dismissed the men; many of the groups of soldiers dispersed, having homes and families to go back to. Not all of the men had signed up for twenty years; many only took up arms when needed, and keeping a large army on hand could be a very expensive business. The Quartermaster would pay those who left on the morrow.
Xanthe watched the men leave after being dismissed from their duty. Where did they go? What did the inside of a Roman house look like?
The streets crowded with people going about their business, stray dogs skulking, children playing, and slaves with telltale collars around their necks running errands on behalf of their masters. The towering buildings crowded in on her. There seemed to be little space in Rome.
‘They are called insulate .’ Titus’s voice, low and deep, tickled her ear.
‘What are?’ She spun to face him, now inches from
‘I am to become a gladiator and fight for his purse. Eventually, should I survive, I can work off my debt and regain my freedom.’
‘Well, that’s not so bad.’ She sat back, pleased to hear the General was not going to execute Titus outright. ‘We will still be together and when we have won our freedom, you can come with me to find my brother.’
Titus laughed, the bitter sound bouncing off the rough walls of the stockade. ‘Your naivety is precious, Xanthe. Even if I survive long enough to buy my freedom, no one expects you to last more than a day in the arena. The only true freedom awaiting us is death.’
‘Don’t say that!’ she cried, crawling over to where Titus lay. ‘They are words of defeat. If you agree to be defeated now, then surely you will be. The Gods will hear such talk and withdraw their support.’ Xanthe rested her hands on his hard chest, her touch a supplication.
Titus turned his head, eyes searching hers in the dim light, a strange look upon his face. She did not understand, surely he did not mean to give up so easily. She had no intention of giving up.
He drew her down beside him, cradling her in his arms.
‘You are right, sweet Xanthe. It is not wise to upset the Gods, and I believe they are on our side. Sleep now, for tomorrow we march to Rome and we will need all our strength for what is to come.’
She burrowed down, drawing him to her. Titus held her tight and entwined his fingers in hers. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Nine
If she lived to be a hundred years old, Xanthe would never forget her first glimpse of Rome as it appeared on the horizon, as they marched down the Appian Way towards the gates of the city. Tombs and memorials lined the road, carved with the stories of the freemen and citizens who had gone before them. She felt a grudging respect for these Romans; they did nothing by halves.
As reluctant as she was to enter the city and meet her fate, a deep curiosity burned within her to explore and see these Romans’ proudest achievement. Xanthe did not think she would ever get her wish, though. The minute she won her freedom she intended to head back to her homeland, Titus at her side.
Xanthe felt a sense of fierce determination at the thought, a determination that lit her from within and would dictate everything to come. She placed one foot in front of the other, her eyes focussed straight ahead as she marched on to her fate.
Titus marched beside her, their shackles clanking in time with their steps. His presence comforted her, offering her the hope that everything would turn out all right. In her heart of hearts, she knew what madness this hope was; yet, at least she would not go through her ordeal alone. Her centurion would be there, somewhere, cheering her on.
Xanthe turned towards him and smiled. How dear his face had become to her in such a short time. Who would have thought she would fall in love with a Roman? How her kinsmen would laugh. She had every intention of surviving long enough to hear their laughter.
The Legion marched through the gates of Rome. The centurions dismissed the men; many of the groups of soldiers dispersed, having homes and families to go back to. Not all of the men had signed up for twenty years; many only took up arms when needed, and keeping a large army on hand could be a very expensive business. The Quartermaster would pay those who left on the morrow.
Xanthe watched the men leave after being dismissed from their duty. Where did they go? What did the inside of a Roman house look like?
The streets crowded with people going about their business, stray dogs skulking, children playing, and slaves with telltale collars around their necks running errands on behalf of their masters. The towering buildings crowded in on her. There seemed to be little space in Rome.
‘They are called insulate .’ Titus’s voice, low and deep, tickled her ear.
‘What are?’ She spun to face him, now inches from
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