Chapter 23
Lucullus accosted Ferox as soon as he stepped off the arena’s sand. “What the fuck have you done?” he demanded.
Behind Lucullus, Velia stood, white-faced and frozen, a hand pressed to her mouth.
Ferox pushed past Lucullus. “I killed him.” He could deal with Lucullus later. Right now, his chief concern was finding somewhere to sit before his leg gave out on him.
“I know that,” Lucullus growled. “Twenty thousand people know that! What I want to know is why. Did you go blind? Why, by all the shades of the underworld, would you disregard the decision of the fucking emperor?”
“He deserved it.” Ferox limped through the passage into the wider space where the other gladiators waited for their own fights. News must have already filtered through, for everyone was staring at him. Lea, off to the side, caught his eye and gave him a slow, approving nod.
As far as Ferox was concerned, that man had forfeited his life as soon as he laid a hand on Velia against her will. The cretin had lived two weeks longer than he should have, but at least now Ferox had rectified his lapse.
Ferox found a stool against the wall and sank down onto it, suppressing a hiss of pain. No sooner had he sat than the ludus’s physician appeared at his side. The man made critical noises as he examined the wound.
Lucullus followed Ferox and hovered at his other side, fists clenched.
Ferox had never seen the man so angry. Usually, when something displeased the manager, he reacted with cold disappointment.
But now, he looked as if he were about to combust with rage.
“I need a better reason than that,” Lucullus snarled.
The physician cleaned Ferox’s wound with about as much gentleness as if he were scrubbing a floor. Ferox gritted his teeth.
Velia trailed behind her uncle. “Uncle, please. He’s wounded. Surely you can speak once he’s rested.”
Lucullus shot her a sharp sidelong look. “Seeing as he’s currently receiving medical care I pay for, he can talk now.”
“You don’t understand,” Velia insisted, her voice trembling. “This was all my fault.”
Lucullus whirled around to face her. “You? What could you possibly have to do with this?”
“Velia,” Ferox warned as she opened her mouth to speak. Everyone was still staring at them—far too many eyes and ears. Ferox knew she didn’t want anyone to know about the incident, and he wouldn’t let her speak of it here.
Velia met his gaze. “Tell him.”
Ferox jerked as the physician drove a threaded needle into his skin.
It had been a long time since he’d had a wound that required stitching, and he’d forgotten how damned painful it was.
“Not here,” he ground out. Lucullus would need to know the truth, but it could be shared in private.
“We will speak in your office at the ludus.”
Lucullus glowered at him. “You’ll come straight there as soon as you’ve been stitched up. I don’t care if you have to be carried in.”
“Fine,” Ferox grunted.
Lucullus stormed off. Velia cast Ferox one distraught look, her gaze flicking anxiously from his face to the bloody mess on his leg, then hurried after her uncle.
“How bad is it?” Ferox asked the physician, whose head was bent over the wound as he worked.
The man shrugged. “Could have been worse. A little to the left and you’d be dead already.” He made another agonizing stitch. “You’ll probably take ill with a fever for a few days. Which will be for the best, since you’ll need to stay off that leg for a while.”
“Very well.” Ferox closed his eyes while the physician finished his work.
“You should rest here before returning to the ludus,” the physician advised as he snipped the final thread.
Ferox hauled himself to his feet. “I need to get back.” He felt somewhat steadier after the brief respite, but his leg still burned with pain. The prospect of walking even the short distance to the ludus was deeply unpleasant, but he had no choice.
Jason materialized next to him, looping an arm under his shoulders. Ferox glanced at him in surprise. “Where did you come from?” Jason wasn’t due to fight today, so he’d remained behind at the ludus.
“Lea fetched me.” Jason supported Ferox as they slowly proceeded to the arena’s back exit.
Ferox felt a rush of gratitude. Lea must have jogged to the ludus, found Jason, and returned with him.
“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what happened?” Jason asked as they walked—or hobbled in Ferox’s case—through the streets. Thankfully, the streets were empty, everyone else still at the games, so no one was around to gawk.
“No.”
“Lea has a theory.” Jason adjusted his grip on Ferox’s shoulders. “The only reason you’d kill like that is in retaliation for harming someone you care about. Nothing’s happened to me or her, so that leaves…Velia.”
“Lea is very perceptive,” Ferox grunted.
They traveled the rest of the way to the ludus in silence.
Lucullus awaited them in his office. Velia stood beside his desk, fingers twisting anxiously. Jason deposited Ferox in the spare chair, then left with a nod to the other two.
Ferox felt light-headed with pain, but he strove to block it all out and assume a relaxed posture in the chair. Velia was eyeing him with concern, and he didn’t wish to cause her any more distress.
Lucullus’s fiery rage seemed to have cooled, and his usual composure was back. But frustration still simmered in his gray eyes. “Explain,” was all he said after Jason shut the door behind himself.
Ferox glanced at Velia in silence. It was, after all, her story to tell.
Velia met his gaze. “It was my fault, as I said earlier,” she said in a small voice.
“No, it wasn’t,” Ferox growled.
She ignored him. Her hands smoothed over and over her braid where it hung across her shoulder. “That man—he came to the ludus a few weeks ago. He—he—” She swallowed hard. Her cheeks flushed, and she stared at the floor. “Just tell him,” she pleaded.
Ferox shifted in the chair, fruitlessly trying to find a more comfortable position for his leg. “I killed that man because he disrespected Velia. Laid hands on her. I should have done it sooner.”
Lucullus narrowed his eyes, gaze flicking from Ferox to Velia. “Is this true?” he demanded of his niece.
Velia nodded.
“Did he violate you?”
The color in her cheeks deepened. “Ferox intervened before it got that far.”
Lucullus let out a long breath. Ferox couldn’t tell what the man was thinking, and his hands curled around the arms of the chair. If Lucullus dared utter a single word that made Velia feel ashamed of what happened to her…
The manager rose from behind his desk and came to stand before Velia. He rested a hand on her shoulder. “My dear,” he murmured. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have seen justice done.”
Ferox relaxed. Usually, Lucullus and Velia treated each other with the brisk respect of employer and employee.
Aside from the fact that they shared a diminutive stature, he might have never known they were related if he hadn’t been told.
This was the first time Ferox had detected any sort of familial warmth between them.
“I-I don’t know,” Velia admitted. “I was embarrassed.”
Lucullus patted her shoulder. “I see. Now that I understand the situation, you may go. I’d like to speak with Ferox alone.”
Velia nodded. She cast one more glance at Ferox, her eyes lingering on his wounded leg, then slipped from the room.
Lucullus returned to his seat behind his desk, the fingers of one hand gently drumming the wooden surface. “There will be ramifications from this. One does not disregard the orders of the emperor without consequence.”
Ferox nodded, though in truth he hadn’t been thinking that far ahead when he drew his sword across that man’s throat.
“I hope it does not need to be said that you’ll forfeit any winnings you might have received.
And then there is the matter of the fee for the dead man.
” When a gladiator was slain, the host of the games had to pay a high price—often several times what the gladiator himself was worth—to the dead fighter’s manager.
While the emperor himself was the host of the games, Ferox supposed it made sense the ruler couldn’t be expected to outlay the cost for a man he’d intended to spare. “Take it out of my earnings.”
Lucullus nodded. “The emperor’s man already paid me half the fee for your second appearance. I imagine that will all go toward payment for the dead man. But the cost may be higher.”
Ferox’s jaw tensed. This was dearly cutting into the money that was supposed to buy him a new life. “Take it out of my next fee, then.”
“That’s assuming you have a next appearance. The emperor would be well within his rights to expel you from the games after the stunt you pulled.”
A burst of shock pulsed through Ferox, momentarily overtaking the pain in his leg. Surely not. Surely the emperor wouldn’t go so far as to remove him from the games.
If that happened, he’d not only lose his chance at earning the rest of his promised money, but he’d also lose his last weeks with Velia.
“You don’t think…Would he do that?” Ferox demanded.
Lucullus shrugged. “Far be it from me to anticipate the workings of an emperor’s mind.”
Ferox blinked stupidly as the potential consequences of his actions crashed over him. With one split second decision, he might have ruined everything.
Even so—he didn’t regret it, not for a moment.
“The emperor has sisters, doesn’t he?” Ferox asked with a touch of desperation. “Maybe—I could explain. Any man would have done the same—”
Lucullus shook his head. “No matter your reasoning, you still disrespected him in front of thousands of people. I advise you to pray to any god who will hear you that the rest of the games today are sufficiently entertaining to distract him from what you did.” Lucullus surveyed Ferox with cool dispassion. “You and Velia are lovers, aren’t you?”