23
Master Roxior’s house was situated east of the Rubra forum, close to the arena where the Games took place. It consisted of several light-colored buildings of various sizes, all featuring striking terracotta tile roofs.
We walked through the double main doors framed with red stones and crossed the porch supported by brick columns and flanked by two square towers.
The older slave instructed us to wait in the circular atrium, which led to the peristyle surrounding the central patio. She whispered something to the other woman, who then disappeared through a doorway on the left.
Shortly after, two servants emerged from the same door, both adorned with bronze collars and bracelets. The young woman smiled at the couple and their children, gesturing for them to follow her, while the man beckoned the boys with a crook of his finger.
When only Amlach and I remained, the stoic slave gazed at us for what felt like millennia.
“I never expected the Master to buy a gladiator again—let alone two.” She slightly curled her upper lip in disappointment.
“Therefore, your room will be ready tomorrow. If the Master wants you there,” she clarified.
“Thank you,” I replied with a gentle nod, for I suspected this woman was some matriarch to Roxior’s servants. “I’m sure any accommodation you can give us will be fine.”
Her face remained neutral. “Come on then.”
She spun on her heels and vanished through the doorway where the others had gone. I traded a quick, hesitant glance with Amlach. Then we went after her.
As we walked through the narrow corridors, we arrived at a large outer courtyard filled with sandy gravel.
Surrounding this area were porticoed service buildings that housed the dormitories for guards and slaves, as well as kitchens, bread ovens, stables with haystacks and chicken coops, pantries, cellars, laundry facilities, and bathrooms.
There was such a buzz that, for a moment, I thought I was back at the market.
Some peasant women tended a vegetable garden with tomatoes, salad greens, potatoes, and carrots.
Nearby, men were busy caring for a solitary apple tree beside the garden.
Others were milking two cows in a small pen attached to the stables, while some fed the pigs in their enclosure.
Meanwhile, a few individuals returned from the chicken coop with a basket full of eggs.
Under the sun, sweat-drenched soldiers were training, and blacksmiths were inspecting the horses’ harnesses tied to the fence beneath a shed.
The matriarch marched through the crowded courtyard, ignoring the curious stares that followed us and the voices getting lower and lower.
I noticed that they all had copper collars and bracelets.
The old woman guided us to the stables, and I felt immediate relief when my feet rested on the cooler ground. However, the stale air, filled with the smell of dung and urine, tightened my throat.
We made our way to the far end of the large, fly-infested room, where there was a cell containing bales of wood shavings, sheaves of hay, and a bale of straw.
The servant opened the gate, pulling out the key from the lock. “Go in,” she ordered bluntly.
My expression turned menacing. “I didn’t get the impression that your Master still considered us as prisoners after saving us from the pirates.”
She didn’t react. “Until the Master returns, I consider you a threat to every person in this house.”
“A threat?” I echoed, angered and about to invade her personal space.
Amlach was quick to yank the chain to pull me back. “We understand perfectly, and we thank you for this temporary accommodation while waiting for Master Roxior’s return,” he said with a charming smile as I glared at him. “Would you allow us to use the straw to make a bed?”
Amlach’s polite manners and persuasive tone seemed to soften the woman’s rigidity, allowing her to relax slightly. “Of course.”
Amlach dipped into a modest bow and then pushed me gently into the cell.
The slave shut it instantly and turned the key in the lock, holding the hostile look I gave her sideways.
“Food and water will be brought to you at the appointed times. As for the rest . . .” She looked at the dirt that covered us like a second skin with subtle disgust. “It will be seen after the Master’s decision. ”
Amlach thanked her again, and I had to resist the urge to punch him in the teeth.
The woman spun around without adding anything else, then left the stables in small, swift steps and with a drawn-up posture.
Amlach shot me an amused glance. “Any accommodation, huh?”
“Shut up,” I growled with a lethal look.
He gave that warm, vibrant chuckle that made my lower belly muscles tighten up.
Without a fork, we used our hands to pull the straw from the bale carefully and spread it on the ground in the only available space between the sheaves and the wood shavings bales. Once we were satisfied with our work, we sat shoulder to shoulder, leaning our backs against the brick wall.
I stared at the goats in the pen near the cell without really seeing them, cursing myself for every single choice that had led me here.
Praying that Araton would hear me call him in my thoughts. And call him and call him. Praying that he would come to get me.
“We should have stayed on the island,” Amlach murmured, his voice as dark as the sky before the storm.
I let out a somber breath, resting my head against the wall. “Yeah . . . We should have.”