The Beast of Verona: Book I of the Decimus Trilogy Page 11

  Decimus leaned his forehead against the bars, exhausted and weak. He wished he could look upon her face, drink in her innocent, youthful face. But he would have to be satisfied with the fragrance of her oil perfume to paint a picture in his mind. “Why are you here, Caprasia? How did you get in?” His voice came out raspy and crackled.

  “I had to see you.” The urgency and anguish she felt was palatable. “But when I came this evening, your lanista was refusing any visitors. I hired a few thugs to create a distraction outside the ludus and I snuck in when the guards left.”

  “You foolish girl,” he laughed feebly. “How will you get out?”

  Caprasia didn’t have an answer for him. “I saw an advertisement that you will be competing soon against five other men. Is this true?” she asked.

  Marcus had told Decimus about the deal he made with the senator. He was well aware of it and the scheme Marcus planned to execute during the game. It was all a plot to destroy Decimus.

  He was already weak from starvation. If put in the arena, he would have no choice but to give reign to the beast in order to survive. And even then, it was not a guaranteed thing that he would walk away with his life and certainly not his freedom.

  “Yes, Caprasia, it’s true,” he replied.

  “That’s unfair!” she exclaimed a little too loudly.

  Decimus shushed her like an adult would shush a crying child.

  A hand reached out and caressed his dirt stained cheek. He gasped and thought to retreat into the darkness of his cell, but her innocuous touch was too soothing. The pain eased in his empty stomach for just a short-lived moment and Decimus melted.

  “Are they starving you?”

  Decimus was able to make the slightest head movement to give her the truthful answer.

  “I’ll have my father send food with the medicine. You must build your strength up before the match or you’ll be killed.” Caprasia sniffled back the impending tears. “I can’t see you killed.”

  Decimus felt like laughing at the irony. She did see him get killed once, but it was not as a man. Instead, she witnessed him be killed as a wolf and she enjoyed it. Once more, her compassion shined through like a beacon in the darkness, a light in this backwards society that proclaimed supremacy over the world and made it suffer so.

  He basked in her presence for a moment before tilting his head up, eyes still closed. “There is something your father can do for me that would be far better than any package of food or medicine.”

  She shifted closer, her breath tickling the skin of his nose. Her closeness was tantalizing. If it could do such a thing, the beast would have licked its jowls in anticipation for a meal. Decimus resisted. “Anything. Name it and I’ll surely have my father do it.”

  Decimus knew better than to think that Quintus would be so pliable in his own daughter’s hands, but it was worth a try. “Ask your father to purchase me from Marcus, my lanista.” He swallowed back a pool of saliva in his mouth and continued. “I’ve been a gladiator for two years. I’ve fought in over a hundred matches and won all of them. I’ve killed men, women, children, animals… If I compete one more time in that arena, I’ll surely lose what’s left of my humanity.”

  Blindly he twisted his hands around to squeeze her dainty finger bones. “I beg of you, have your father purchase me. I’d rather spend eternity as a slave in your house than here in this prison.”

  The faintest whiff of fear passed through his nostrils and it swam through his blood, under his skin like an intoxicating potion to draw out the beast. “Decimus, I’ve never heard you speak like this before.”

  “I’m desperate, Caprasia. Do this for me and I’d be grateful for a thousand lifetimes.”

  Tense silence passed between them.

  “Why do you not look at me?” she finally asked.

  Decimus hung his head and knocked it heavily against the iron bars. The sound of impact echoed down the corridor. Could he trust her? If she knew, would she run? Could she even see his eyes in this dim light at all?

  Taking the risk, Decimus slowly opened his eyes and lifted his chin to face Caprasia, his last hope balancing upon the edge of the gladius. He could see the glistening of torchlight upon her long dark hair that fell down around her shoulders. Her eyes were wet with tears at the injustice that he was faced with. Even in the dim light, she was the picture of youthful virtue.

  Her sweet face twisted in shock and she jerked back, but Decimus held her hands firm. She saw the amber change in his eyes. There was no doubt. He couldn’t stand to see her reject him in this way. She had to understand now.

  “Please, Caprasia – “

  “What are you? What’s wrong with your eyes?”

  Decimus ducked his head and blinked long, crimping his lids tight in an effort to make the gold go away, but it was no use. They would not change back to the human hazel color. His hands began to slip from hers, knowing that his last resort had failed. She would not cooperate with him now.

  He fought back the wave of shock when her hands groped after his to hold them tighter. “Decimus, tell me what’s wrong.”

  He looked up to Caprasia and saw the anxiety written in every line of her young, flawless face.

  “I can’t fully explain everything to you right now, Caprasia. But if your father can buy me and take me into your household, I will tell you everything, I promise. Can you make this happen for me?”

  He pleaded, not only to her insatiable curiosity and unyielding compassionate nature, but to the strong infatuation she felt for him. If he could appeal to both these things, he had a chance to leave this place. And he would make good on his promise.

  Caprasia thought for a moment, searching his face for any sign of falsehood in the flickering torchlight. But she would find none. “I will do as you ask, on one condition.”

  Decimus’s lips tightened into a thin line. “What is it?”

  “Kiss me.”

  His jaw clenched and hairs bristled from the nape of his neck down his spine. Caprasia was a beautiful young lady and cunning as anything. He couldn’t understand how she could be so fearful, so hesitant in one instant and still desire him the next. But Decimus had absolutely no intimate interest in her. He sighed and rolled his head indecisively.

  If this was the price of freedom, so be it. He positioned his face between two of the thick iron bars and waited.

  Caprasia leaned in and their lips met. A weak spark skittered through his core. The scent of female arousal flooded his senses the longer they stayed locked in that kiss. She pressed deeper into him, but Decimus would have none of it. Either way, he could hear the guards approaching.

  He pulled back, leaving her crooning for more.

  “The guards are coming,” he said. “Hide.”

  “But where?”

  “The cell across from mine is open and unlocked. Hide in there for a moment. I’ll create a diversion.”

  Caprasia nodded in obedience and crawled into the cell with the open door.

  Decimus, feeling a little stronger than before with the knowledge that freedom was within his grasp, lifted himself up with the help of the bars and listened for the guards.

  They came clamoring down the stairs in a few moments, talking about the thugs that had incited a near riot outside.

  Summoning all his strength and a piece of the beast within him, Decimus let out a great and terrifying roar, pounding against the stone until it cracked. The guards ran down the corridor, spears in hand.

  As soon as he had their attention, Caprasia took her cue and fled while their backs were turned. He hoped she would make it out of the front gates without trouble.

  “Calm down in there, Lupus!” one guard shouted.

  “Hey, is he going to shift?” the other asked, the stench of fear covered his words.

  “No. He only does that once a month and this isn’t his time.”

  Decimus growled and lowered himself in a crouch before scurrying back into a corner. The guards watched him for a while and
then returned to their posts by the stairs, satisfied that he was done with his outburst.

  Drained and even more fatigued than before, Decimus laid himself down upon the dusty floor and closed his eyes.

  He felt Caprasia could be trusted. She would use every resource she had to convince her father to buy him. He was sure of it. His future was set in stone. And soon, he wouldn’t be sleeping on a cell floor. He’d be in the house of a wealthy politician, living in a level of comfort that he could only dream of.

  11

  National Central Library of Rome

  Rome Italy, 2015

  Howard rubbed his fingers into his eyes, trying to drive the exhaustion away. He’d been at this all day, flipping through page after page of reference books. The bright orange sunlight slanting through the tall windows would have been his cue to give up and leave the library, but he still had three more books to go.

  He’d visited every museum in the city, even the art exhibits, searching for any shred of proof. Decimus either covered his tracks well or the alpha that his father had mentioned was telling a tall tale.

  Libraries were supposed to be quiet places for research and studying, but Howard’s senses were constantly pulled away from his task by the teenager snapping his gum in the far corner, the slow page turns and scribbling of a college student across the room from him, and the couple making out between the towering bookcases in the other room. It was enough to drive him crazy. He would have taken the constant roar of engines or chattering of pedestrians over these distractions.

  The library was his last resort. If he couldn’t find anything here, Howard didn’t know where else to look in Rome. He had been patiently waiting for Marina’s call for nearly a week now. He began to wonder if she forgot about him or if he had given her the wrong phone number. Maybe she couldn’t call a number from the states from her own foreign phone. It had never occurred to him that it could prove difficult or costly to make such a call.

  If he didn’t hear from her soon, he resolved to take a trip to the museum and see her personally. Lord knows he’s wanted to see her since he walked away from her apartment that night.

  Almost more distracting than the racket in the library was her beautiful face and the memory of that night spent combing through her collection of books. The fool in him wanted to hope that she was thinking of him too, but without any solid evidence of her interest, Howard fought back the idea. Surely she had better prospects than an American on a crazy search for something that didn’t exist.

  Howard had tried many times to chase away Marina in his mind by imagining her with the boyfriend she must have had. But recalling her apartment, he didn’t see any indication that she had a boyfriend, or even a brother. No family pictures hung on the walls, not even any vacation photos from the beach or countryside with a handsome Italian. It couldn’t be possible that she was single. With her intelligence and looks, there was no way she was available.

  When his eyes had skimmed over the same sentence about fifty times, Howard passed a hand over his face and around the back of his neck, ruffling his hairline. He sighed and slammed the book shut. The others in the tables around him jumped a bit and then continued their work.

  Maybe he was just too tired. His eyes must have been bloodshot from all the reading he’d done. He hadn’t even taken a break for food, which was proving dangerous. He could feel his stomach eating away at himself in anger for not feeding it. Even the wolf inside was getting a little anxious.

  Howard gathered up the books, sure that the last few he had left to scour through would hold nothing just as the others had. He was sure he’d learned everything about the ancient Roman Empire besides what he truly needed to know.

  Lifting the stack of books into his arms, he carried them back to the nonfiction section where he had gotten them.

  He flinched when he felt his phone vibrate in his jeans pocket. Maybe it was his father again, calling to check in. Or maybe Eddie. Howard still hadn’t heard from his rowdy, rebellious brother.

  He set the books down on the ground, squatted behind the bookshelf and pulled out his phone. He wasn’t sure if it was acceptable to have phones in Italian libraries, but he didn’t want to take the chance of upsetting the elderly library stalking the hall.

  His heart raced when he saw it was a foreign number on his screen.

  “Hello?” he answered in a whisper.

  “Hi, I’m trying to reach Howard?” a familiar feminine voice touched his ears.

  Howard’s mouth curled into a huge grin at the sound of Marina. “Hey, Marina.”

  “How did you know it was me? And why are you whispering?”

  “I’m in a library,” Howard took a glance around just to make sure he was correct. He felt like he was in an earthly version of heaven at the sound of her voice.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I interrupting anything?”

  Howard could hear that wonderful timidity in her words. “No, no. Not at all. What’s up?”

  “Well, remember when I told you I’d ask my friend in Verona to see if there’s anything in the archives over there?”

  The shuffling of papers cut off much of her sentence, but he could still understand her, even through the thick Italian accent. “Yeah, I remember.” It was hard to forget.

  “She called me just a little while ago and told me that she found some old accounts from a politician that lived in Verona. He talks all about this one gladiator named Lupus. She emailed me the photo copies of the papers if you’re willing to come here to the museum to check it out.”

  If Marina were in front of him right now, he would have kissed her. Boyfriend or no boyfriend. He pumped his fist in victory and felt like shouting. This was just the break he needed. “Thanks, Marina. You’re a lifesaver. Can I come over right now?”

  “The museum is closed right now, but I can sneak you in. Or I can forward this email to my home computer and print it out – oh wait, I don’t have a printer. Um…”

  “That’s ok. I’ll come to you. Where’s the back door?”

  Villa of Quintus Marius Strabo, 71 AD

  The feast was in full swing in the dining hall. Dozens of people lounged on their couches, laughing and partaking in the delights of the table. Everyone, except Quintus.

  He stroked his beard in deep thought, lying next to the prestigious Senator Caius Albius Viator, an old comrade and friend visiting from Rome.

  Caius, in mid chortle, turned to Quintus and bumped shoulders to him. “Why so glum, Quintus? Haven’t had enough wine yet?”

  Quintus glanced down to his goblet, half empty from its first fill. The politician was far too vexed to drink, even though it had always helped before. But this situation called for a clear mind. If only his daughter hadn’t faced him with such a proposal before.

  “I am not glum, Caius. Simply thinking.”

  “If you’re wondering about the feast, it was delicious. Your cook has outdone herself. Much improved since the last time I visited.” Caius laughed and popped a grape onto his tongue.

  “No, it’s not the feast.”

  “Then what could possibly be bothering you? Are your constituents demanding something outrageous?”

  Quintus leaned in close so that the others at the table did not overhear their conversation, even though he didn’t know how anyone could hear anything over that woman’s raucous laughter. “It’s not my constituents that demand it. It’s my daughter.”

  With a slow, knowing nod, Caius pursed his lips. “Yes, I know what you mean. I remember when my daughter once told me that she wanted to be a gladiator when she was older. I nearly fell from my seat.”

  Quintus glanced to his guests and upon seeing that they were thoroughly occupied, turned back to Caius. “It is the matter of a gladiator as well. May I speak to you in private? I could use some advice.”

  Even though Quintus and Caius were along the same age, he knew a wise man should never be too proud to ask for help from his peers. Caius nodded and they convened in the atrium.
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br />   “What is it that your daughter has demanded?” Caius asked. “To marry a gladiator?”

  “Not precisely,” Quintus replied. “She has become infatuated with a gladiator, that is for certain. He joined us for dinner some nights ago upon her request. Now this morning she came to me asking that I purchase the gladiator from his lanista.”

  Caius’s eyebrows could not have arched any higher. “Is she serious? Gladiators can come at a hefty price, especially if they have become a crowd favorite.”

  “She’s quite serious, Caius. When I told her that it was out of the question, she pleaded even more earnestly. Caprasia said it was a matter of life and death. I knew it must have had something to do with the games you’ll be holding in the amphitheater tomorrow.”

  Caius peered enquiringly at his friend. “Who is the gladiator?”

  “Lupus. Although he confided in us that his birth name is Decimus.”

  At the utterance of the name, Caius sighed and tilted his head back. “Oh, my friend, what a small city this is. If you had said any other name, I would have advised you to give your daughter what she wants and be done with it.”

  “But because I said it was Lupus?”

  “I beg you not to take away my star gladiator.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of buying him before your event.”

  Caius let out a held breath and put a hand to his chest. “I thank you. I struck a hard deal with his lanista that he will face five other gladiators. Marcus has waived his death compensation fee for me in exchange for such an unfair match.”

  Quintus’s eyebrows pinched together over the bridge of his nose. “Caprasia wanted me to purchase him before the match. Perhaps she feels Lupus would perish.”

  Caius snorted. “I doubt it. Word about Lupus has reached the ears of the emperor in Rome. Vespasian has even made note that when the Falvian Amphitheater is finished, he wants Lupus to compete in the inaugural games. But of course, that won’t be for a good many years.”

  Quintus took a few steps, his mind hard at work. He wanted to please his daughter more than anything in the world and he wanted to help Decimus in anyway he could. Was there a way to satisfy them both?