The family laughed and talked and he let it flow over him like a soothing wave. A smile was stamped on his face and he couldn’t wipe it off it he wanted to. All too soon, they got up from the couches and the servants began to take their belongings out to the wagon. It was full on dark and Dean had no idea what time it was. He thought perhaps near midnight. He was stuffed, Felix’s mother insisted on feeding him until his ribs threatened to split. Felix was engulfed by his family as they hugged and kissed him goodbye. His mother was weeping softly and held her son tight, unwilling to let go. Felix’s father gently pried his son away.
Just as Dean was getting into the wagon, he turned when the old woman took his hand. She held his face gently again, looking into his eyes. She shimmered in front of him as his eyes teared up and he thought of his mother. She pulled him forward and kissed his forehead and he hugged her tight.
“Goodbye mom, I love you,” he said gently in English. She pulled back and smiled at him, seeming to understand and he turned and got back up into the wagon. The shackles were replaced and the canvas cover dropped down. Dean laid back next to Felix.
“Dude, you got a nice family. Why in the hell are you in the arena?” Dean asked.
“As you see, I am the baby. It is always the same. They baby me. But this time, my father and brothers see me differently. My brothers came to see me fight. They saw that I was good,” Felix said with a certain amount of pride and satisfaction.
Dean thought he could understand. He was the oldest and had two sisters, but before he had left for the Marine’s his parents had questioned his decision. They had thought him too young to go off like that and wished him to go to college first and then maybe go into the military. Dean had listened to them and his mother had cried. His heart squeezed at the memory and his eyes prickled. He wiped at them. He should have listened to them, but it was too late for that. Besides, he wouldn’t have met Zaza.
“What does your family do again?”
“They are spice merchants. My brothers travel east and on the trade routes and bring back spices,” Felix said.
“Is that where the silk came from?”
“Silk? What is that?” Felix asked. It was black as a coal mine in the wagon.
“Silk was the material I saw. It comes from China,” Dean said.
“China? Where is that? My father found that material in Arabia. Is China near there?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Dean lied.
“I spoke with my father. I told him of our friends and that you all wish to purchase your freedom. He said that when that time comes, he will give you work. You can accompany my brothers east. I will go too. I think if they see gladiators, the bandits will not bother the cargos,” Felix said and Dean heard the smile in his voice.
“Really? That would be great! I could take care of Zaza better, knowing we have a place to go when I get enough money. Thanks Felix, that means a lot. Your mother is really nice. I liked her a lot,” Dean said softly.
“She liked you too. I was almost a little jealous,” Felix said laughing and then yawned. Both men quieted and Dean thought about what Felix’s family offered. He was excited because this would give them all a place to go if they survived. He hoped he could keep it up, but there was always a chance of injury or death. Of dismemberment or the capricious whims of the emperor. There was just no telling.
He let the wagon rock him and his body was relaxed. He closed his eyes and thought of his mother and his family. For a split second, he thought he’d seen him mother in the old woman’s eyes and he thought that maybe, his mother might have heard him.
Θ
Tullia lifted her arm so the female slave could oil her limb. She sighed and looked out over the landscape. Her bathing chamber looked out over the sea and the sun glittered off the deep cerulean blue surface. She wished that she could return to Rome so that she might have a chance to see Drago once more. Her father had sent her home, he said Rome was no place for her. She felt her heart beat harder at the thought of Drago. He had been magnificent in the arena. She had been frightened for him, but he had prevailed.
Her father liked Drago she could tell. Her father was a good judge of character and she was as well; she’d learned that from her father. There was something about Drago, she’d seen sadness in his beautiful eyes and it had touched her. She stood and her servant wrapped her in a long soft linen. She would write to her father and asked to return to Rome soon. She didn’t care for the city itself, it stunk badly, but she did want to see Drago again. A soft smile slipped across her lips and she began to hum as she walked outside to look at the sea.
VIII
Thad looked down below, there was an argument between several of the gladiators from the third floor. Those were the highest-ranking gladiators
