The Gladiator by Carla Capshaw

gazed out the open window. It would be dawn soon, but for now an array of stars twinkled in the tar-black sky. As a child, she’d loved gazing into the night, memorizing the constellations her tutors had shown her. A smile curved her mouth as she remembered her father pointing out different celestial patterns and teaching her the wonders of God’s creation. With true gratitude, she thanked the Lord for those sweet memories.
    Giving up on sleep, she flipped away the light covering and stood. Stiff muscles protested as she crossed the tinyroom she’d inhabited since Caros brought her here from the slave quarters eight days ago. She wondered when she would join the other slaves. Surely Caros had better use for the space than to allow her a private chamber.
    She rested her palms on the windowsill. The first rose-colored streaks of dawn painted the horizon. A cool breeze ruffled her hair and a dog barked in the distance, the only sound amid the silence.
    Steps shuffled in the hall. Someone pounded on the portal loud enough to wake the deepest sleeper.
    â€œIt’s time to rise,” Lucia commanded through the closed portal.
    â€œI’m coming.”
    â€œBe quick about it. Find out what herbs Cook needs from the garden and fetch them for him.”
    Pelonia changed her tunic and wrapped the shawl around her shoulders before venturing into the corridor. A series of lanterns lit the way downstairs to the back of the house. A pair of guards waited at attention by the rear door. With a hurried greeting to the giant, dark-skinned Africans, she crossed outside into the fresh air. The smell of baking bread made her mouth water.
    Following the brick path to the kitchen, she glimpsed Caros training with a sword in the peach orchard. A look of concentration etched his handsome face. He didn’t see her. Free to watch him without the expectation of conversation, she halted, mesmerized by the power and grace of his movements. He reminded her of music come to life in human form. Even the scar that looked like the swipe of a lion’s claw across his chest did nothing to detract from his appeal.
    â€œDon’t fall in love with him,” Lucia said, slithering up beside her. “If any woman ever claims his heart, it will be me.”
    Pelonia turned to see the healer fixed on Caros with ahungry gleam in her eyes. “You have nothing to fear from me. The man I choose to love will be the exact opposite of Caros Viriathos.”
    â€œHow so?” Lucia’s gaze never left her master.
    â€œI want my husband to share my faith.”
    â€œHusband?” The healer snickered. “You’re a slave. Why do you think you’ll be permitted to marry?”
    Pelonia frowned. “I won’t always be a prisoner here. I refuse to believe I’ll never have a family of my own.”
    Lucia snorted. “You should be thankful you’re alive and give up your fanciful notions.”
    â€œIt’s not fanciful to have faith. Circumstances can change as quickly as an ocean current.”
    â€œLike your fortunes did the day you came here?”
    â€œYes,” Pelonia admitted, stung by Lucia’s harsh reminder.
    â€œThen I can do without your faith. Why serve a deity who finds pleasure in making you a slave?”
    For a moment, Pelonia grappled for an answer. Lucia’s question echoed the very words she’d asked herself so often since coming here. She glanced away from Lucia’s sneer to find Caros had finished his practice.
    Her face flushed with pleasure when she noticed him watching her. Embarrassed by her reaction, she sought out Lucia’s harsh features like a lifeline.
    â€œMy God’s ways are a puzzle at times,” she said, clinging to her beliefs when she had little else to offer. “But I believe He’ll work all for my good if I’m patient and wait for Him to reveal His purpose.”
    â€œThen you’re a fool. Why wait for your God to cause