The Beast of Verona: Book I of the Decimus Trilogy Read online

  Decimus was not finished with him. “If you don’t release me, you know I’ll find my own way out!”

  Marcus slowly turned in the silence and came back to the cell.

  “And you know I can do it,” Decimus continued, his words colored with unspoken threats. Marcus knew exactly what would happen if the gladiator found a way out. The lanista would be the first one to suffer. “These bars can’t hold me and neither can these stone walls.”

  The glint in Marcus’s eyes was a dangerous mix of amusement, anger and fear. “You wouldn’t,” he challenged.

  Decimus began to bend the bars, displaying his strength and seriousness. He watched the panic rise in his lanista’s face and smirked.

  “The guards would kill you before you stepped one foot out of this cellar.”

  “They can try, but you know swords won’t stop me.”

  A hush built between before Decimus bent the bars a little farther apart, just enough that he could easily slide his head through.

  “If you made it out alive, I’d send the entire city after you. I’d tell them all about what you are. You’d be hunted down like the animal you are.”

  Decimus paused and loosened his grip on the iron bars. The smiled had fled his face at the image of the mob chasing him with torches well into the night. One thing he hated more than captivity was the knowledge that he was not welcome, hunted and abhorred.

  His arms dropped to his sides. Marcus looked smug again as he discovered Decimus’s true weakness.

  The disheartened gladiator turned away from the lanista and trudged deeper into his cell.

  “A few days in here will calm you down,” Marcus said as he turned to leave. “And maybe then I’ll let you back into the arena.”

  Decimus felt hopeless. He wanted so desperately to leave this life behind and return home to Batavi. But even there, he wouldn’t be truly welcome. With no family left alive, who was there to go back to? His house must have been destroyed by now or taken by another. What would he do there? He’s known nothing but combat and violence for years.

  But Decimus knew he couldn’t stay. He had to break free somehow. The beast within him agreed. For once, they were united in a common goal. They both roared, their anguish filling the air of the underground, and slammed his fist into the stone wall. A crack splinted the rock from floor to ceiling. Dust spewed from the chasm with little pebbles that toppled to the ground, but no more. No sunshine, no fresh air greeted him. But he didn’t expect it. He wondered when he would experience the upper world again. Even to stand in the arena once more would be better than this prison.

  9

  Rome Italy, 2015

  Howard flipped the page of the volume he was holding. His second helping of the chicken dish sat on the corner of the coffee table just next to him as he was sitting cross-legged on the floor of Marina’s living room. She had just risen from where she sat a few feet away from him to put her plate away in the kitchen.

  He knew that she must have been wary of her books getting soiled by food, so Howard was careful not to take a bite while hovering over the pages. With the absence of a dining table, he had little choice than to eat in the living room like this.

  He felt a pang of nostalgia. His family sometimes ate like this when he was growing up. He remembered thinking how cool it was to camp out in the living room with his father and brother gathered around a chunk of roast while their mother watched on with unconditional love. That was many, many years ago and his mother was no longer with them for obvious reasons. Age got the better of many mothers and wives that chose to dedicate themselves to the pack life.

  “You’ve hardly spoken since you started eating,” Marina said, breaking him from his thoughts. She came in and took her place from before. “I hope my horrible cooking skills haven’t stunned you speechless.”

  Howard looked up and saw her fingers twitch nervously on her knees. “No, not at all. It’s very good.” To make his point, he shoveled another chunk of the meat into his mouth. He left many of the vegetables on the plate and felt guilty for being so wasteful, but otherwise, he didn’t have to lie about her cooking.

  He felt, more than saw, Marina’s smile. “I’m glad. Like I said, it’s my mother’s recipe and if I didn’t do it justice, she’d be rolling in her grave.”

  Howard found nothing funny about the fact that her mother was gone. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said solemnly before turning his eyes back to the book.

  “Thank you. It was a long time ago.” Her voice dropped a little and a pause of silence was held for her mother before she spoke again. “So, are we looking for anything specific?”

  Howard snagged on the implication that they would be searching through these mountain of books together. He understood that this would be a solo job. He could go much faster doing the research by himself.

  Glancing back up to her, he debated whether to blow her off or accept her help. These were her books after all, and she was the hostess. It would be impolite, even in America. “I’m looking for anything about a gladiator that went by the name of Lupus in the first century in Verona.”

  Marina blinked. “That seems oddly specific,” she said with a hint of disbelief.

  “It kind of is,” he replied.

  She pulled her legs out from the kneeling position she was in and crossed her legs just as he was. “Did you hear about him from somewhere before? You know those movies and documentaries aren’t always right. They have license to dramatize everything.”

  Howard shook his head and turned the page again after taking another mouthful of chicken. “It wasn’t in a movie. It’s family history.”

  And with that, he could already hear the flood of questions. But, he knew that if he didn’t explain himself, she wouldn’t fully understand how important it was to find Decimus.

  She shifted herself closer to the books and closer to him. “Family history? How are you even able to trace it back that far?”

  Past the savory flavors of the chicken, he could practically taste her confusion and curiosity. “We’re really big into ancestry. We’ve traced it back generations and he’s the missing link.” Howard neglected to say that it was only five generations as opposed to ten times that many, but that was a minor detail that she didn’t need to know.

  Marina sighed as if preparing herself for a tedious task. “Alright. If he was in Verona, I’ve got a few volumes about the city over here. I can start looking through those.”

  Howard looked up to her in mild disbelief. She didn’t bombard him with a million questions like he suspected. Perhaps she was keeping them to herself, or perhaps she wanted to learn it all the hard way.

  Turning back to the book about gladiators, he began to find her presence more distracting than helpful. He could smell her faint perfume and lavender body wash that had faded away over the course of the day, leaving the fragrance of pure woman in its wake.

  He occasionally stole glances in her direction when he was in the middle of turning pages. He remembered how he had randomly brought up her face in his mind the night before and how he basked in the warm memory of her smile. How could a girl so simple be so memorable?

  “You’re not wearing glasses,” he remarked, finally noticing the difference. The glasses had never mattered too much to him before. They neither took away nor added to her beauty in any way. If they hadn’t been constantly slipping and falling from her face the day before he wouldn’t have noticed them at all.

  Marina looked up and flashed him an awkward grin, as if she was pleasantly surprised that he made such a comment at all. “Yes. I wear contact lens most of the time. But yesterday I was running late and didn’t have the time or patience to put them in.”

  Howard returned the smile with a nod and turned back to his book that he was nearly done skimming through. He thought it safe not to note to her that she looked beautiful anyway. She must have known. There was no reason to say it.

  Half an hour later, Howard managed to finish his helping of the ch
icken. He was about to return the plate to the kitchen when Marina jumped up first.

  “Oh, no. Let me,” she said.

  For a brief moment, they both held the plate from opposite ends.

  “I can put it away. It’s no trouble,” he said in Italian in hopes to catch her off guard. It didn’t work.

  She gave a firm tug on the chipped plate and he let go, unwilling to argue. “I’m hostess. It’s my job to clean up after you.” The lilt in her sweet, silvery voice was a fun mix of teasing and taunting.

  He watched her retreat into the kitchen area with his dirty plate, his lips formed into a tight line, resisting a grin. The way her thick hair bounced behind her shoulders sent a jolt through his core that was hard to ignore.

  Howard snapped the book closed and picked up another by the time she came back.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t ask this earlier, but would you like some coffee?” she asked, standing on the other side of the table. It was a safe distance for now.

  Howard didn’t look up, but shook his head as his eyes scanned through the table of contents. “No, thank you. Coffee doesn’t settle well with me.”

  “Too much caffeine? I might have some decaf grounds somewhere.”

  “It’s more of the taste.”

  “I’ve got plenty of sugar and cream to sweeten it for you.”

  Howard regarded Marina and made his best effort to not to appear upset at her tenacity. If he even drank one sip of coffee, he’d be sick as a dog all night. “That’s alright. I’m not in the mood for coffee anyway.”

  Marina didn’t seem deterred. “Tea then? Americans like tea, don’t they?”

  Now she was speaking his language. “Tea would be nice.”

  “Great. I’ll boil some water.”

  He heard her nearly skip into the kitchen to put the kettle on the stove and Howards smiled in spite of himself.

  The first half of the book in his hands yielded nothing important. When Marina settled back down with her book on the city of Verona, he decided to ask her just a simple question that might help in their search.

  “Have you ever heard of wolves being used in the arenas? I know there were lions, tigers and bears, but ever come across anything about wolves?”

  Marina looked up questioningly and shook her head. “No, I don’t think I have. Wolves were a pretty common animal in the region at the time. They brought exotic animals into the arenas to show off all the lands they had conquered. I’ve heard of elephants, giraffes, ostriches and even gazelle, but never wolves.”

  Howard sighed. That was no help. If he could track down an instance when the wolves were used, then perhaps he could pin point where Decimus was. He didn’t want to doubt himself, but there were many factors that could prove incorrect. What if he wasn’t even in Verona, but some other obscure town that didn’t exist anymore? What if he changed his name before or after that would throw Howard off the trail completely?

  He rubbed the back of his neck and flipped through the rest of the gladiator book. Still nothing. Tossing the book aside, he picked up another.

  After a while, he could sense her stare. He didn’t want to meet her milk chocolate Italian eyes for fear of what they would tell him, or what he would imply from them. He could barely stand the tension that was surely all in his head. He didn’t need this. He might have wanted it, but now was not the time. Wounds were still fresh.

  And he suspected that this all had something to do with that trashy paperback novel he saw earlier on the coffee table. Her head must have been swimming with notions about whirlwind romances and love at first sight. He wasn’t a character in some romance novel and she wasn’t the heroine, even though she could play the part very well.

  Feeling himself exasperated by this seemingly hopeless task, Howard finally snapped. He looked up. “Look, I’m not trying to be rude, but if you intended this to go somewhere, it’s not. You’re cute and all, but I’m just not interested in that sort of thing.”

  Her face twisted with shock and confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  Howard motioned towards the books and the kitchen. “The meal, the invitation to come over and look through your library. I know you must think this is going to lead somewhere, but it’s not. I’m just not interested.”

  Marina’s eyebrows shot up and her lips puckered as if she was trying to contain a burst of laughter. She was unable to keep it bound up in her mouth and it came spewing out to mock him. “You think I invited you here to hook up with you?” she asked incredulously.

  Howard shrugged. “Well, didn’t you? Most women I know back in the states would jump at a chance like this.”

  “Howard, Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not in the states. You’re in Italy. We don’t all act the same way.”

  Howard could feel the blush rise up on his cheeks. She sure put him in his place. He didn’t mean to sound vain or presumptuous at all. “Well, I just wanted to clear the air a bit. I didn’t mean to imply I thought you were hitting on me.”

  As soon as the words left his lips, he wanted to snatch them out of the air and shove them back down his throat. He was only digging a deeper grave for himself.

  “The air was never unclear to begin with,” she said with a smile. “I didn’t assume that you accepted my invitation because you wanted to get into my pants.”

  This conversation was growing more and more awkward and Howard was ashamed that he even said anything to begin with. He passed a hand over his face and groaned. “Can we just forget I said anything?”

  She giggled. “Sure. Have you found anything yet?” she asked, leaning over to peek at which book he had in his lap now.

  “No,” he replied with a shake of his head. “Nothing at all.”

  “Me neither,” she said. “But something I was just thinking of was that I have a friend in Verona who has access to some archives. She may be able to find something in there that isn’t published in books.”

  Howard could hardly believe his luck that he would have found someone who would prove themselves invaluable to his search for Decimus. And even after he humiliated himself, she was still willing to help.

  “That’s very nice of you,” he said. “It won’t be an inconvenience for you, right?”

  She flicked her wrist as if to swat away his question like a pestering fly. “No, it’s no trouble at all. Just one condition,” she said leaning closer. “If you find anything, I want to know about it. You’ve sparked my interest about this gladiator ancestor of yours.”

  Howard smirked and nodded. It was a fair trade. Of course, he probably owed her a lot more than just a story about a gladiator.

  Ludus Gladitorium, Verona 71 AD

  Marcus watched his league of gladiators in the midst of training from the second floor of the ludus. Gripping the wooden railing, he beamed upon them with pride. Over two dozen gladiators at his disposal, all equally great and powerful in the ring.

  It had been three days since he abandoned Lupus in the cell with no food and set to a strict diet of bread, broth and water, just as he was given before Marcus bought him. The beast would break. It was only a matter of time and Lupus would be his faithful gladiator again.

  But the nagging notion in the back of his mind leaned towards the side of caution. Yes, starving him might make Lupus grateful for the sanctuary Marcus offered, but it could make him wild and unruly, more so than before. Marcus would need a chance to unleash him in the arena again and let him run loose to satisfy his primal urge to kill. If he didn’t, the beast may go insane in that cell all alone.

  Through the grunts of the gladiators and dull thud of wooden swords clashing, Marcus heard the gates screech open. Turning to look who their visitor was, he was astonished to see a man so finely dressed and regal in a place like this.

  He was slightly older than Marcus, his temples were gray with the wisdom of many years. Clad in a white tunic that featured a purple stripe, Marcus knew this man was important.

  Accompanied by an entourage of slaves an
d other Romans of lesser status, he boldly walked into the ludus and gazed around as if he had never seen the inside of a gladiator training school before.

  Marcus rushed down the corridor and to the ground floor where the senator was waiting.

  “May I be of assistance, Senator?” he asked, cupping his hands together and bowing with respect to his superior.

  With a lift of his chin, the senator said, “My name is Caius Albius Viator. I am a senator of Rome. I will be in Verona for a short while and I intent to sponsor a series of games in honor of our noble Emperor Vespasian. And I want gladiators to fight in the arena. I need several and I was told I’d find them here.”

  Marcus’s greedy mind buzzed with the profit he would make off of such an event. He grinned and nodded. “Yes, Senator Viator, I have some of the finest gladiators in all of the Roman Empire. See for yourself.”

  He gestured towards the men who were training in the field and Viator looked pleased.

  “I have heard of one in particular. A certain gladiator by the name of Lupus, is he training today?”

  Marcus wanted to scream. Lupus was the last person he wanted to think about and he certainly didn’t want the Senator Viator to think of him either.

  “Unfortunately,” the lanista said in his most convincing disappointed tone, “Lupus will not be making any public appearances for a while.”

  Viator was beyond vexed. “And why not? Is he injured?”

  Marcus wagged his head pathetically. “Not exactly.” It was then that Marcus thought of a brilliant idea that would solve his problems in one foul swoop. “The reason is that Lupus has reached a point in his career where he no longer feels challenged by one-on-one battles and the meager pay of local politicians.” Putting on his more engaging theatrics, Marcus continued.

  “Lupus thirsts for a true contest. He said he would not battle in the arena again unless it was an unfair match. Five against one and a fight to the death.”