The Gladiator Prince by Minnette Meador

room for the gladiator. A chorus of disappointed moans flowed softly against the roiling steam.
    Thane eased himself into the hot water, sore from his training and from his evening ventures. The guards usually held the ladies at bay so he could wash; however, most of the time they were distracted by young ones who would move in hoping to get close to Thane or cause a diversion so others could. Fights always broke out in the ludus for the privilege of taking Thane to the baths. It was one of the more stimulating duties of the auctorati .
    Two Nubian women sailed through the water toward Thane as another three distracted the guards.
    “My sire,” called the tall one at the lead. She had skin the color of burnt coal and eyes like honey. Thane found the combination compelling. The friend gliding forward with her was equally attractive. He had never been with an Afrikan .
    When they got nearer, the first one stopped and pulled the second one to her side running her hand under the other woman’s breasts one at a time. “This one, my prince,” she claimed, her accent heavy but arresting. “Her name is Adama, and she desire to pierce herself on your belly. A virgin.” Startling white teeth shone from the younger one as she smiled then covered it up with a shy hand. “She my sister, sire. She take your seed and have a beautiful man child.”
    “You are very beautiful,” he said to the sister, “but…”
    “She not speak Latin, sire. But I will tell her.”
    “Well, tell her she is lovely and will make beautiful children someday with a man. I am not that man.”
    “But, sire,” the first one said, “we will both lay with you and give you beautiful sons.”
    Delius had managed to disentangle himself from the other women and came over to fulfill his function. “All right, ladies. Off you go. The Prince needs his privacy.”
    Just then, a loud voice called for order, and two Roman soldiers appeared on the marble deck above the baths sending the women scattering and diving to cover their nakedness. Thane never understood this habit amongst their own kind. They never dove when the gladiators came to the baths… quite the contrary.
    “You ladies will have to leave the bathhouse.” The soldier’s voice shifted through the steamy air echoing loudly against the marble pillars. “By order of the procurator. All of you out.”
    A general trumpeting of disappointment or anger drowned out the man’s voice. Thane would not have given the two of them a single chance against that mob. The other soldier pulled his sword and leveled a stern frown at them. “If we have to, your husbands and fathers can be called to get you out.”
    That did it. The women, though still protesting, moved swiftly to the edges of the bath and disappeared into the catacombs towards the dressing areas.
    Thane was moving to the edge of the pool as well, but the soldier with the sword pointed the tip at the two guards. “You and you may wait outside for the gladiator. We will see to it he does not wander.”
    Confused, but not inclined to argue with the tip of the gladius , the two guards got out, took up their clothes and scrambled through the door, both shooting glances back at Thane.
    Moving to the edge of the pool, Thane called up to one of the soldiers. “What is this about?” A strangling apprehension settled on his shoulders. Something was wrong. “I am the property of Abella.”
    The two guards ignored him and went to a dark entrance at the back of the bath. There, standing in the shadows, stood a woman enveloped in a heavy cloak. She spoke with them briefly, and Thane knew there was some argument, but apparently, she won it, for they both turned on their heels and left her alone in the bath.
    Another woman . This had to be yet another of Abella’s elite . She must have been wealthy indeed to get him alone in the bath with the fine wives of citizens chased out by two Roman soldiers.
    The light was very dim in the bath, so he could not make