The Gladiator by Carla Capshaw Page B

another master.”
    â€œYou’re too proud, Caros.” Spurius sighed. “The truth is the mob is easily bored. Every day, it grows more difficult to arrange the grand events the crowd demands. The mob wants you, their champion, and the games’ sponsors are willing to pay any price for the spectators’ continued enjoyment.”
    Caros tossed another ladle of water on the coals. “I’m retired, old man. If you wish to do business with me, speak to Gaius about Alexius or one of my other champions. Otherwise, distance yourself from my presence. My patience with you is over.”
    â€œBut think of the riches you’d win,” Spurius cajoled one last time. “You’re still the best gladiator alive.”
    â€œI’m already rich. On the other hand, Alexius’s talents are for sale.”
    Taking the hint, Spurius’s shoulders slumped in capitulation. “Since you’ve brought up Alexius, why can’t you be more like him? There’s a man who understands and enjoys his place in the world.”
    â€œHe’s a slave by choice. If he wanted his freedom I’d let him have it.”
    Spurius frowned. “You’ve condemned me as a villain because I refused to sell you your freedom when you demanded it. But I ask you, what man would happily give up a gold mine? I was a fool to give the mob its way the day they chanted for your release. In the last three years I’ve lost ten fortunes for my drunken error.”
    Caros stood and tightened the cloth around his hips. “You’re a fool, old man, drunk or otherwise.”
    â€œTrue enough, but I’m also determined. One of these days I’ll tempt you out of retirement. You can be sure of it.”
    Â 
    Pelonia sensed Caros’s arrival in the garden before she heard him. Perching on tiptoe, she craned her neck for a better view of the herb-lined path. Caros and another man approached. Both were dark, tall and broad shouldered, but Caros moved with a grace that rivaled his tiger’s. Breathless, she couldn’t take her eyes off him.
    He caught her staring and without warning sent the other man away. Without breaking their gaze, he closed the distance between them. “Why are you out here in the heat of the day?”
    â€œYour steward assigned me to garden duty. I understood I’m to work here every day.”
    â€œI’ll speak with him. There are easier tasks in the house.”
    â€œNo, this is fine.” She didn’t want to rile Gaius. The old man could make her life miserable if he chose. “I tended flowers and maintained a large vegetable garden for my father’s household.”
    He crossed his arms over his chest. The gold wristbands he wore glinted in the sun. “If you came from a wealthy family, as you claim, why toil like a slave?”
    Disliking the accusation in his question, Pelonia plucked a low-hanging leaf from the lemon tree and breathed in the citrus scent. “Simply because I enjoy planting something, caring for it and watching it grow.”
    â€œI see. And how is it you never married? I’d expect a woman of your advanced age to have children of her own to nurture.”
    â€œAdvanced age? Are you trying to insult me?” she asked with mock severity.
    â€œBy the gods, no.” He shifted uncomfortably. “But most women wed by the age of twelve or thirteen summers. You’ve yet to wrinkle, but…how old are you?”
    â€œSeventeen.” She bit her lip to keep from laughing at his discomfort. “And you? You have enough wrinkles for both of us, so I’d guess you are…?”
    â€œTwenty-eight.” He fingered the faint lines around his right eye. “Are you saying you find me ugly and withered?”
    She laughed for the first time since her father died. “Goodness, no, but all the scars were a bit off-putting at first.”
    He sighed with exaggerated relief and led her to a bench