The Gladiator. Carla CapshawЧитать онлайн книгу.
a hoe and woven basket. When he saw her, she waved in greeting. A toothless grin flashed across his aged features before he tottered back the way he’d come.
How odd for him to retreat without a single word to her. She shrugged. What did she know of Caros’s servants? Perhaps they were all as strange as their master.
She began to leave a moment before Lucia raced across the threshold. “Where have you been and what are you doing in the master’s private room?” she demanded an octave higher than necessary. “If Servius hadn’t seen you from the garden, the entire household would still be in an uproar searching for you.”
“What game are you playing?” Pelonia asked. “You know I was cleaning the storage rooms as you ordered.”
“You lie. I looked for you there. You were nowhere to be found.”
“How dare you call me a liar? I…” Her words trailed away when Caros appeared in the doorway. The room seemed to shrink and her pulse began to race like a stallion set free.
“Master.” Lucia looked to Caros with an eager smile. “I found her.”
“So I see.” His gaze scorched Pelonia from head to foot. “You may leave us, Lucia.”
The young healer looked stricken, then resigned before she turned to go. “Beware of this one, Master. She has the face of Venus, but she’s even more deceitful.”
Caros didn’t comment, leaving Pelonia with the uneasy feeling he agreed with Lucia’s poison. Once they were alone, he stepped deeper into the room. “Where have you been?” he asked, his tone as emotionless as stone.
“Upstairs.” Her gaze roamed over the large bruise on his cheek, the multiple gashes marring the sinew of his arms and exposed collarbone. How much more damage did his tunic conceal? He must be in pain. She resisted a tug of concern and the desire to tend his injuries.
“What were you doing there?”
“Lucia sent me to clean.”
“I don’t believe you. She wouldn’t assign hard labor when you’ve yet to fully heal.”
“She said you meant to punish me.”
“Now I’m certain you lie. I said nothing to Lucia about you.”
She looked away from his icy blue stare, irritated enough at being called a liar again to dismiss her concern for his wounds. “Your thoughts are your own. Believe what you will. But if you meant to show me how harsh life here will be without your protection, consider your point well made.”
“If you were cleaning upstairs why are you here in my private room? Did you plan to rob me before attempting the escape you threatened?”
“First I’m a liar, now I’m a thief?” she asked, unreasonably hurt by his low opinion of her. “If you knew me better, you’d realize you have no need to question my honesty. What have I done to give you the impression I’d steal from you?”
Caros contemplated the question while he steadied his breathing. How dare she stand before him acting as though she was in the right? By the gods, she’d given him the scare of his life. Once he’d discovered her gone, he’d turned the domus upside down looking for her. Visions of her fleeing into the wrong spot and encountering his men had him locking them up in the middle of the day.
Unwilling to examine the fear he’d experienced when he thought she’d run away, he hugged his anger to him like a protective coat of mail.
“Well?” she demanded. “What have I done?”
He stepped toward her.
She jumped back, her palms outstretched as though to ward off an attack. “Don’t come any closer.”
He moved forward, within easy reach of her. “Why should I not?”
She dashed away, positioning herself behind a piece of furniture.
“Do you think a chair will offer protection if I choose to lay my hands on you?”
“Some protection is better than none.” She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Even gladiators gird themselves before a match.”
“True, but no amount of armor can compare with experience. I’ve fought for almost half my life. You’re as battle hardened as a kitten.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I admit you’re a better fighter than I—”
“Yet I’m not the one who usually begins our skirmishes.”
“You blame me for the difficulties between us? I’ve done nothing—”
“But argue.” Most of the anxiety she’d caused him began to melt away now that the shock of her disappearance had begun to wear off.
“I’ve done no more than defended myself. You’re just unreasonable. Your high-handedness begs to be brought down a peg.”
“Is that so?” He shoved the chair out of his way and gripped her upper arms before she realized his intent to strike. “If we were equals you might be the woman to chastise me. As it is, you’re a slave who’d be wise to keep her opinions to herself.”
“And you’re a pompous…gladiator!”
Caros almost congratulated her. She’d held her ground, though he could see fear lurked in the depths of her soulful brown eyes.
“Why are you smiling?” Her distrust was unconcealed. “Have you devised some new punishment for me?”
He caressed her arms, enjoying the smoothness of her skin. “I thought I might train you to fight in the arena. A woman in the games is a novelty. If this display of temper is any indication, you certainly have the mettle for it.”
She escaped from his hold and fled to the window. “Your humor is misplaced, lanista. If you trained me with a weapon, you’d be wise to refrain from sleep.”
He laughed outright. “So, you’d kill me, would you? Doesn’t your God frown on murder?”
With a defiant toss of her head, she glared at him. Glad to see her bruises all but gone, he admired the way the window framed her beautiful face and delicate stature. Even the ragged tunic did nothing to hide her appeal.
“Blasphemy is a sin the same as murder,” she said. “God might not pardon you for mocking Him, but given your contrary nature, I’m sure He’d understand my actions and forgive me without reservation.”
“Perhaps,” he said flatly. “But you might be surprised to find how difficult it is to forgive yourself.”
Mollified by the horror in her eyes, he turned to leave. “Be warned, slave. Disappear again and you won’t like the consequences. If you think dusting storage rooms is punishment, you’ll realize it’s child’s play compared to the tasks I’ll drop at your feet.”
Outside, the sun beat down on him. He sensed Pelonia was jesting when she spoke of murdering him and her God’s forgiveness for such an act, but what if it were true? What if her God were powerful enough to forgive the vilest crime and erase the guilt crippling his soul?
Hope flickered like an elusive flame inside him, then burned out just as quickly. He’d done too much evil to think of receiving mercy. He’d killed countless men, many of them Christians. Why would their God embrace an enemy?
He shook his head, his spirit bleak. He was lost with no way to be found. He should accept his fate and stop longing for redemption. Deep in his heart he accepted he wasn’t worthy.
Chapter Six
Pelonia couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned on her hard pallet, her body begging for slumber, her mind too conflicted to rest. She kept envisioning Caros’s dejected face when she’d taunted him. How could she have suggested she’d murder him or that God would forgive her for the crime? Yes, she’d