Chapter 32
That afternoon, six Praetorians showed up at the ludus, demanding to search the premises for the emperor’s missing physician. Lea was resting on a bench outside in the sun when they stormed into the practice area, putting an abrupt stop to the training exercises in progress.
Earlier, Lea had told Jason and Ferox the broad strokes of Kallias’s plan to disappear. As soon as the guards appeared, Jason materialized at her side, shooting her a look of concern.
Lucullus, summoned from his office, faced the Praetorians with an expression of polite curiosity on his lined face. Velia flanked her uncle, which meant Ferox hovered at her shoulder, glowering at the guardsmen.
“Is there some service I may render the emperor?” Lucullus asked, his tone entirely neutral. He knew nothing of Kallias, so there was nothing for him to give away.
“The emperor’s physician has disappeared,” the guard who appeared to be in charge declared. “We must search your premises.”
Lucullus raised a gray eyebrow. “What reason would an imperial physician have to be in a gladiator ludus?” His cool tone was edged with disdain, as if that were the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.
“We know he’s made several visits here.”
Lucullus nodded. “Yes, he was treating one of my gladiators. At the emperor’s command.”
“Is the emperor in poor health?” Velia asked innocently. “We’ll be sure to make some offerings for his swift recovery.”
The guard exchanged a glance with his comrades. “Of course not,” he said. “Gaius Caesar is blessed by the gods. He’s in perfect health.”
“So why does he need a physician?” Velia pressed.
The guard shot her a glare, but quickly found something else to look at when Ferox placed a possessive hand on her shoulder.
“We have been ordered to conduct a thorough search of the premises,” the guard said. “As well as to make inquiries of the gladiator named Penthesilea. Where is she?”
Jason immediately moved in front of her, as if to hide her, but Lea rose to her feet and pushed him aside. Her head spun; she’d been experiencing spells of dizziness and blurred vision since her injury yesterday, but she took a deep breath and steadied herself. “Here,” she said.
The guard moved toward her, but Lucullus raised a hand. “I will permit you to search the ludus, as we have nothing to hide—certainly not an imperial physician—but you may not interfere with my gladiators. Penthesilea”—he turned to address her—“do you know anything of this physician’s whereabouts?”
Lea shook her head. “No idea.”
“Swear it,” the guard insisted. “Swear an oath by Jupiter.”
She raised a hand and lifted her gaze skyward. “I swear by Jupiter, I have no knowledge of where this man is. May divine Jupiter strike me down if I lie.” She sent a prayer of thankfulness to Kallias for enabling her to make this oath honestly.
Oaths like that were powerful things. The guard surveyed her, jaw tight, as if waiting to see if a thunderbolt would incinerate her where she stood.
Lea’s muscles tensed, and she sensed a corresponding tension amongst the gladiators that surrounded her—Jason, Ferox, and the handful of others. Would the Praetorian find her oath satisfactory? Would he insist on dragging her away for some sort of interrogation?
A chill passed over her at the thought. Things could get very ugly very fast in that case, as there was no way Jason or Ferox would let her be taken without protest. The gladiators outnumbered the guards, but sunlight glinted on the polished metal of the Praetorians’ helmets, armor, and deadly blades.
The foremost guard jerked his head at his comrades. “Commence the search.”
Lea released a sharp exhale. As the guards fanned out across the ludus, entering each building, she resumed her seat on the bench, trying to suppress the anxious tremors rippling through her.
Jason lowered himself to sit beside her, his body still radiating tension. “Do you really not know where he is?” he murmured.
She glanced sidelong at him. “Do you think I would have risked that oath if I did? I spoke the truth.”
“Fair enough.”
The guards searched for a full hour, meticulously combing through every room in the ludus’s collection of buildings, from bedrooms to kitchens to storerooms and even the privy. Finally, they left empty-handed.
Lea hoped this would be the end of it. After all, where else could they search? Kallias had no family here. Perhaps the guards would pay Sextus a visit, but the youth didn’t even work for Kallias anymore, and there was no way Kallias would have sought sanctuary there.
They’d spend a few days searching, but with no results, they’d have to give up soon. The emperor’s mind would fixate on something else, and then Kallias would be free to resurface.
Several quiet days passed, with no further visits from the Praetorians.
There was also no sign of Kallias, but Lea knew it was much too soon to expect to see him again.
She tried to imagine where he might be. If he’d left Rome and headed straight for Ostia, he could be on a ship bound anywhere by now. Maybe he’d even returned to Greece.
The thought of him so far away made her heart clench. Greece was his homeland, and it would make sense for him to return there, given the chance. But what if he liked it better there than here? What if he decided to stay? What if the pull of his homeland was stronger than his feelings for her?
No, she told herself sternly. He swore. He will return.
As she’d promised Kallias, she spent her days resting and didn’t so much as attempt to lift a sword.
He’d be very pleased with her, no doubt.
Her headaches came and went, and she still experienced spells of dizziness, along with fogging of her vision.
A hot bath seemed to ease her headaches for a time, so she paid a visit to the baths each morning, during the hours reserved for women to bathe.
Lucullus summoned her to his office about a week after Kallias left.
The games would end in a few days, and she guessed he was going to inform her she was to fight again.
As she stood before his desk, she tried to decide if it was worth objecting.
Lucullus didn’t generally force injured gladiators to fight, but this time her injury was more invisible than the wound on her arm.
Lucullus flattened a scroll of papyrus on the desk before him. “I’ve received word that the emperor wishes to arrange something special for the last day of the games. Something the city has never seen before.”
Lea hoped this was a good sign, that the emperor had turned his focus from his missing physician to whatever he’d thought up to close the games with.
Lucullus glanced down at the writing on the letter, as if he had to reconfirm what it said. His brow furrowed. “Apparently, in recognition of his sister Julia Drusilla being named his heir, he wishes to add a woman to his Praetorian Guard. He wishes every female gladiator to compete for the honor.”
Lea took an involuntary step back. “No,” she said immediately. Joining the emperor’s Praetorians? That would put her back in the world Kallias was fighting to escape from. “I won’t do it. My head—it’s still injured. If I have to fight, I’ll throw it—”
Lucullus held up a hand, stemming her agitated words. “I haven’t finished. That is the second place prize. For the winner, he offers…” Lucullus lifted the piece of papyrus and read from it. “Anything that is within his power to grant, up to and including the rudis.”
Lea caught her breath. The rudis, the wooden sword, was an honor rarely bestowed on a gladiator. With it came instant freedom.
If she won, she’d be able to bypass the months or years it would take to earn the rest of the forty thousand sestertii she needed for her freedom. She could be free as soon as next week. And when Kallias returned, they could be together—truly together, beholden to no one else—without delay.
But if she fell short…if she came in second instead of first, she’d effectively forfeit her life to the service of the emperor.
She swallowed hard. Was it worth the risk?
“Also,” Lucullus continued, reading from the paper, “the tournament will be structured as an archery competition. Not combat, for practical reasons.”
Lea understood; fighters couldn’t reasonably compete in more than one match a day. Besides, the emperor and the city at large had seen them all fight multiple times over the course of these games. Archery, however, was a novelty.
The mention of archery swayed her. Though she hadn’t had the occasion to practice much lately, she’d won archery competitions before. And archery would be less taxing than combat.
“I’ll do it,” she announced. She turned on her heel, not waiting to be dismissed, and headed for the training ground to find a bow. It didn’t matter if her head ached or her vision flickered. This would be the most important competition of her life, and she had no choice but to win.