'I had wondered, that's all.' Julia tried for an innocent voice. She placed a hand on her friend's arm and gave it a squeeze. 'I have heard this lecture in different guises at least six times in the past week.'

'I will keep repeating it, Julia, until you start listening. Gladiators are different from the likes of you and me. If you become involved with one, and it becomes public currency, you are asking for trouble. Marcia Augustina, the Consul's daughter, decided to ignore convention and move in with a gladiator. Now he's dead and she might as well be—banished to Spain, never to contact her family again. Imagine no family, no friends, no Rome. And for what? A few tumbles in bed with a gladiator who abandoned her. No man is worth that.'

Julia turned to face her friend, pleased she had kept last night to herself. Claudia would misunderstand and would more than likely run to her father for Julia's own good. She crossed her arms and gave what she hoped was a carefree toss of her head.

'Shall we go and feast our eyes, as you say, or shall we stay here and wait for Sabina to come up with some little chore that has to be done?'

'I'm trying to look after you, Julia.' A crease appeared between Claudia's eyebrows. 'The last thing I want is for your new-found freedom to go to your head. I've seen it happen before…in Pompeü. It nearly happened to me. Widow or divorcee, you must keep to Rome's unwritten rules.'

'Let's get one thing straight, Claudia, old friend.' Julia put the top of her alabaster jar back on with a thump. 'I'm a grown woman and I can look after myself. I have no need for any protectors.'

* * *

The cold water from the jug trickled down over Valens's head and shoulders, cooling him off after the morning's practice. He allowed the droplets of water to enter his mouth, enjoying the sweet tang of the water.

'It was a hard session out there,' Tigris remarked after he downed his jug of water, the sweat pouring from every inch of his body. "The Circus is a much larger place than I had thought. It would be easy to get overawed by the crowd.'

'Yes, Caesar has considered that,' Valens replied laconically.

The exercise had proved the outlet for his frustrations about Julia. His anger at her former husband had driven him to press harder and look for more openings. Perhaps he had been wrong to worry that feelings for someone would take away his appetite for the sport and reduce his focus.

If anything, this morning, it was all the keener. Standing here in the Circus with its rows of wooden seats, he was more determined than ever to win the wooden sword.

'I thought you were about to kill Leoparda.'

'He's a good fighter. In a few bouts' time, I have no doubt he will have earned the right to sit among the first halls and enjoy the privileges it brings.'

'If the gods favour him…'

'You're getting philosophical, Tigris,' Valens said, ducking the jug into the water butt for the third time.

'Missing Maia and the children, I suppose.' Tigris refilled the jug, took a long drink, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 'I find myself thinking about them at odd times and wondering if Crispus has learnt his letters or the peas are coming up in the garden.'

'Spoken like a true farmer, Tigris.'

'I was a farmer once, before the war.' He gestured around the empty arena. 'Before all this.'

Valens rubbed the back of his neck. Tigris must be unnerved for him to mention his previous life. For four years, he had avoided finding out what Tigris did before, and now he found himself wondering why fate had chosen them. Memory was a dangerous thing.

'There is a sizeable crowd of spectators today,' he said, changing the subject. 'Caesar is whetting the appetite of the mob, trying to ensure his games are a success.'

'Aye, that there is and your girlfriend is among them.'

Valens froze.

'What girlfriend would that be, Tigris?' Valens asked with a hearty laugh. He knew without looking whom Tigris meant, but it bothered him that Tigris had guessed so easily.

'The woman you and Aquilia fought over. He is still is raging about it, vows he will harm you and the woman.'

'She is the daughter of one of Caesar's prominent clients,' Valens retorted, surprised at his growing alarm for Julia's safety. 'He would never dare try to harm someone like that.'

'Since when has a little thing like that stopped Aquilia?'

'What are you talking about, Tigris?' Valens felt the bile rise in his throat. He hoped it was another one of Tigris's jests, a wind-up to see how Valens would react.

'Haven't you heard? Haven't you been listening to the gladiators' mess hall?'

'I have little time for myths and legends, Tigris.' The sweat on the back of his neck turned ice-cold.

'You should pay more attention.' Tigris's eyes were shadowed. Valens noticed how old and careworn his friend looked. 'Aquilia has a reputation for being ruthless, for going all out to win. He seems to know instinctively where an opponent's weak spot is. He has the uncanny ability to bewitch them, turn them to stone, so they say. Hylas barely blocked any of his blows when they fought in Capua two months ago, he stood just there with his shield down and you know his reputation for ferocity.'

'Old wives' tales. Hylas was unlucky that day and let his guard slip. His mind was on other things. Two nights before, armed men attacked Hylas's wife in her house and left her for dead.' Valens looked at his nails. 'I believe I have the measure of the man.'

'It is the other thing that bothered me.'

'In this business the arena must be everything. A gladiator must be able to focus solely on his work.' Valens wondered who he was trying to convince—Tigris or himself.

'You have no idea how much I worry about Maia and the children. Will I behave like Hylas in the arena when faced with Aquilia? And it wasn't just Hylas, you know, there were seven others who had it happen to them in the exact same manner'

'Their women were attacked before the fight?' Valens looked sharply at Tigris as a stab of concern sliced through his body. He had to protect Julia. He'd sooner cut off a finger than have one hair on her head harmed.

'No, became like stone after Aquilia fixed them with his eye. He bewitched them. They say he has magic powers obtained from the demon goddess he worships. Tell me when a rentarius last made the first hall.'

'Tales best told around the brazier, Tigris, along with all the other myths.' Valens forced a laugh from his throat.

'But this time I believe them. Maia and the children need me.'

Valens clapped his friend on the back.

'You need not worry. Have you ever lost in the arena?' 'I can't help it. You wait until one other person becomes the centre of your being.'

'Aquilia will meet me,' Valens said forcefully. 'Not you.'

'It could be any of the first-hall Thracians he fights…'

 'Do you think with the betting that is going on, Caesar will miss a chance like this?' Valens shook his head and laid a hand on Tigris's shoulder. 'No, my friend, stop staying awake during nights, Maia and your children will be safe. One day, Fortunata willing, all you will have to worry about is when the barley is ripe.'

'I pray to the gods you are right, but he has vowed vengeance on you and your girlfriend for the insult you paid him.'

'Aquilia should grow up.'

A liquid laugh floated on the breeze towards him. Valens turned to see Julia merrily chatting to her friend, underneath the shade of a green silk parasol. He started to go towards her, then checked his footsteps. He refused to put Julia into danger. He had to protect her in the only way possible. He had to make Aquilia think she no longer mattered. It was going to cut like a knife to do it, but he had to—for Julia's safety.


'You were wrong, Claudia,' Julia said, shading her eyes with her hand and peering out on to the sand-strewn ring. 'We arrived in time. They were taking a break. The gladiators are about to start practising again.'

'Thank the Good Goddess. We appear to have missed the third hall and tiros in their practice bouts. The best gladiators are yet to come. These are the ones I am interested in. Pay attention to their feet and legs. You can learn a lot about how the bout will go from the way a gladiator moves his feet.'

Julia watched the gladiators as they marched on to the sand and gave a salute before dividing into pairs. She scanned the groups until she caught sight of Valens's broad shoulders. Her stomach gave a nervous jump.

He was dressed in his full regalia: armour, grieve and helmet It was only from the set of his shoulders and the way he carried his sword that she recognised him.

He closed the visor of his battered helmet with a distinctive movement and crouched down.

'Are they going to fight with real swords?' she asked Claudia. 'I thought they practised with wooden swords.'

'The swords are blunt, but they are real,' Claudia answered in a distracted voice. 'It should give the public a good idea of who is in form for the games. Did you see the blow that Tigris just gave that second hall? It was superb.'

'I am not sure how you can tell them apart.' Julia kept her eyes on Valens as he circled his opponent, jabbing right, then left with his sword, probing. "They all look the same to me.' Except for Valens, she silently added.

"Their helmets are all different. It is one reason for the popularity of the figurines. If you study the helmets, you can determine who is who. I've seen Tigris fight before and his is easy to pick out—it is in the shape of a tiger. Valens is that one over there. The rentarius paired with him is called Hermes. He is supposed to be fleet of foot—see the wings etched on to his breastplate.'