'I take it,' Claudia said with a twinkle in her eye, 'given your lack of interest in anything remotely sporting, you aren't interested in a blow-by-blow account of his prowess in the arena.'

'Claudia, he's staying with us and I want to be able to converse with him at supper and so on.' Julia made an expansive gesture with her hands and sent the spindle crashing to the floor. 'I was curious, that's all. For example, where is he from? That sort of thing. Just in case I need topics for conversation because, as you know, my knowledge of gladiatorial combat is pitiful.'

Claudia raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. A tiny smile played on her lips as she reached down to pat Bato.

'I have had the pleasure of seeing Valens and his legs, Julia. You had better come with me to the Julian compound. Caesar has invited me to a presentation ceremony. You might as well see all the gladiators before you settle on one to cheer for.'


The main courtyard of the Julian compound overflowed with people. Julia spotted white-togaed senators freely mixing with the short-tuniced tradesmen. There were a surprising number of women, senators' wives included, displaying more flesh than Julia considered necessary.

Despite arriving before the ceremony started, Julia and Claudia were forced to stand at the back beside a life-sized statue of Venus, the patron goddess and supposed founder of the Julian family.

Although Caesar's voice rang out clearly across the courtyard, Julia had difficulty making out more than a shoulder or the top of a head. She kept tight hold of Bato. Had she realised what the crowd would be like, she'd have left him at home, locked securely in her room. Claudia had clambered on to the statue's plinth for a better view and now stood on her tiptoes with one arm around Venus's waist.

'What exactly is Caesar giving out?' Julia asked, attempting to peer around the bright red parasol of the matron standing in front of them for the tenth time. Every time she thought she had a good view, the parasol shifted.

'Armour—silver-plated armour. The gladiators are going to look magnificent in the arena.'

'Is this usual?' Julia struggled to make herself heard over the noise of the crowd. Bato cowered against her legs as another enormous roar went up. She reached down and gave his ears a stroke.

'No, no. It is the first time I have heard of it. Normally a gladiator fights in whatever his school provides.' Claudia balanced on one foot. 'I think it will be your gladiator's turn to receive his armour now. They have almost finished with the gladiators of the first hall. Do you want to have a look?'

'Bato is with me,' Julia replied doubtfully, but her heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing Valens, even if he failed to see her. But she wished Claudia would stop calling Valens her gladiator.

'Hurry and climb up. Bato will stay where he is told. He's a good and clever dog.'

'He can be a scamp.'

Claudia climbed down, took the lead from Julia and gave her a gentle push towards the statue. 'I'll keep an eye on him. See, I'll stand right beside him.'

Faced with Claudia's stern face and her own growing desire to see Valens, Julia gave in. She motioned for Bato to stay and then scrambled up on the plinth. Rather than holding on to Venus's waist, she clutched her upraised arm and looked out over the crowd. The raised podium was clearly visible now.

A thrill went through her, making her knees feel weak as Valens mounted the steps with firm footsteps. A faint breeze raffled his dark hair as he strode across the stage. Julia could see his muscles rippling in the sun as he walked. He looked every inch in charge as Caesar handed him his armour. His size made Caesar seem small.

Here was an athlete in his prime, the very embodiment of what a gladiator should be like—strong, ragged and with the ability to hold the crowd in the palm of his hand.

The crowd hushed as Caesar handed Valens his equipment. Julia heard the lone rattle of a scroll being rolled up on the other side of the compound. In the quiet, Valens held a shining sword and helmet aloft and the cheers rang out, screaming his name.

'Valens seems to have the support of the crowd,' she said, listening as the cheers and shouts of approval continued long after Valens had stepped back into the line of gladiators.

'That he does, and if the crowd is for you, it makes things much easier in the arena,' Claudia replied. 'He might win the rudius he was denied at Pompeü. It was hard to credit that the patron of those particular games in the cradle of the gladiatorial tradition should be that pinched-purse to ignore the wishes of the crowd, but Crispanus was. No need to consult the soothsayers. He will lose the next election because of it.'

After the noise had died down, the commentator announced the next gladiator—Aquilia. A polite round of applause. But before the first ripple of applause had died, a few hoots of laughter and cat calls rang out. Julia stood on tiptoe, attempting to see where Valens had gone.

'Julia, quick, quick, tell me what you see. There seems to be a bit of a commotion on the stage. And this woman keeps moving her parasol.'

The sounds of laughter increased.

'Something happened. Valens had to go back on stage and retrieve something,' Julia said, shielding her eyes with her free hand. 'But I am too far away.'

'Julia, you have to be my eyes. Describe everything. This red parasol is a nuisance.'

'The cheering is not as loud as for Valens, but I can't see anything is seriously wrong. He's received his trident now and is stepping off the stage.'

'If you move over, I can get a better look.' Claudia scrambled up next to Julia and perched on a corner of the plinth. 'You're right—nothing, but it's Tigris now and he's one of my favourites. His legs are marvellous. I particularly like his knees.'

'Claudia, you are incorrigible,' Julia said, but made no move to get down. From where she stood, she could see part of Valens's back and a shoulder.

'I think the main attraction is over now,' Claudia said, shielding her eyes and standing one foot. 'Shall we go before we are crushed by the hordes trying to get out the door? I doubt we'll able to get near to the gladiators with this many people milling about.'

Julia looked back at the stage. The gladiators were parading in their new armour, holding their weapons aloft, and Caesar waved to the crowd with a benevolent expression. Already both men and women were pushing their way towards the gladiators. Her chances of getting near Valens were slim to none.

'Yes, of course you're right,' she said with one last look at Valens, standing in front of Caesar, as remote as any god, and climbed down from the plinth. 'There is little point in staying around.'

'I certainly didn't think it would this busy. Caesar will gain a lot of popularity with these games,' Claudia remarked. 'He will be unstoppable at the next election. I wonder which post he will stand for. Imagine what silver armour must have cost. Who do you think is funding him? Crassus?'

'I hadn't thought about it, but I guess you're right. Bato— time to go.' Julia reached down to grab Bato's collar. Empty air. She scanned around—no greying muzzle or wagging tail. Time stopped and everything went quiet. Julia swallowed hard. She snapped her fingers and gave a low whistle. No Bato.

'Claudia, Bato has gone.' Julia tried to keep her voice from panicking. There had to be a simple explanation. Silently she cursed herself for being interested in what Valens looked like on the podium.

'Gone? What do you mean gone? He's right there, sitting like a good dog.' Claudia pointed to a now empty spot. 'I mean, he was right there. By the gown of Venus, Julia, I only took my eyes off him for an instant.'

'Oh, Claudia, what I am going to do?'

Julia twisted the end of her belt around her hand and tried to call Bato again with a whistle. This time, she made the whistle louder. Still nothing. The crowds of people started to empty from the courtyard.

'We'll have to wait for the crowd to thin a bit. And try not to worry. Have you ever known Bato not to appear eventually? He's devoted to you.'

Julia felt the squeeze as Claudia's arm went around her shoulders. The most she could manage in response was a brief smile.

'Do you think we'll find him? Claudia, I don't know what I will do if I lose that dog…'

'Don't panic, Julia. He's probably followed his belly to the kitchens. As I said let's wait until the crowd has thinned a bit and then we can find him. It's impossible to move in this anyway.'

Julia tried to ignore the pit growing in her stomach. She knew Claudia was being practical, but it wasn't her dog that was lost. Julia imagined all sorts of terrible fates for Bato.

Her lips muttered prayers, entreaties to any god that might be listening, as her eyes scanned the emptying courtyard for a trace of the dog.


Chapter Five


'Excuse me, I believe this imp belongs to you,' a now-familiar voice behind Julia said.

The rich tones seemed to bath her nerves in balm and at the same time make her insides ache. 'He decided to take part in the ceremony, much to Aquilia's displeasure. However, I caught him before he asked Caesar for his armour. I think he is a bit small to fight.'

She quickly turned, but the smile she had made sure was on her lips faded as she took in the scene.

For a heartbeat, she regarded him in his full gladiator regalia—silver breastplate hugging the contours of his chest, a grieve on his left wrist and a leather belt studded with bronze medallions over his tunic. His shining helmet emblazoned with a war scene hung from his right hand. More like a god than a man.