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room to avoid one another or plan an attack.
    Lucius took in the other men standing with him and felt fear clench his abdomen. They were just as big as or bigger than him and all of them were holding sharp, deadly weapons in their hands. Their muscles flashed in the bright light as they were led around the arena for all the spectators to see, and their presence was met with shouts and screams of glee from both men and women alike. Then they stopped short in front of the podium which the emperor sat upon with his family and guards.
    Their eyes had met for a short moment before the emperor moved on to look at the rest of them. They swore an oath in front of the emperor that they would endure to be burned, to be bound, to be beaten, and to be killed by the sword. And then it began.
    Lucius watched from under the arch as two men with axes fought against one another valiantly, but one of them was a slave and the other was a criminal. The audience declared the criminal safe for the time being, but they decided the slave should die. Thus, the bulkier one who had won, the criminal, took his axe and drove it deep into his opponent’s skull. Blood rushed forth from the wound as the axe was removed, and Lucius fought hard to keep his stomach in check.
    “You’re not a seasoned warrior,” a man stated as he stepped up beside Lucius. “Everyone knows why you’re here, and I’m warning you, they’ve got it in for the likes of you. Battling to win back a slave when you’re not one yourself, it’s ludicrous and unheard of. There isn’t room for soft feelings like love and affection, free man.” Lucius turned to look at the man and came face to face with the barbarian who had shouted about him winning back his whore.
    Fire lit his veins as his name was called and the crowd roared. His reputation already preceded him and the look on the barbarian’s face as his name was called was priceless. The two of them stepped from the shadows and took their positions in the center of the arena. The light from the sun pounded down on their flesh, one man bronzed and seasoned and the other pale but muscular. Lucius had spent too much time in the smithy to get much sun.
    The crowd held their breath simultaneously as the game manager called out for them to begin. Their axes came up, Lucius looked to his left as a streak of red caught his eye, and then he felt the whoosh of air hitting his arm as the other man anticipated his move wrong and hit dirt with his axe. Without wasting a heartbeat, Lucius swung his axe and buried it deep within the man’s thigh, rendering him useless.
    Then he scanned the crowd for the woman he thought for sure was Alba before he realized the emperor was calling for him to finish off the man. He was a criminal, and criminals never left the arena alive.
     

 
    Chapter Three
    “What’s your name, gladiator?” The feminine voice slid over him like a fine cloak and he put down his glass of wine. Lucius knew he’d had enough already at full strength, and he didn’t want to leave himself vulnerable to the other survivors.
    “Lucius; and I am not a gladiator, not yet,” he stated as he turned toward the woman. He had more to say, but the words fled from his mind as his dark eyes settled upon her vibrant blue ones. Her hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back in straight locks, reflecting the light off the blonde shafts.
    “You were in the arena. I know since I was there. Never mind that. My mistress has sent me to fetch you.” The woman nodded in the direction of the banquet table reserved for the wealthy, but Lucius was not interested. His eyes never left this slave who had dared to put her hand on his forearm. When she caught him looking at her slender fingers on his damp flesh, her cheeks turned ruddy. “My apologies, Lucius,” she uttered as she removed her hand.
    “I’ve had too much wine to be of service to your mistress. You can tell her that.” He held up his goblet and smiled at her genuinely,