Orion_An Ancient Roman Reverse Harem Romance Read online

  The leader was a man who had not engaged in the battle. He had simply sat on his horse, looking on. Now as he took in Pater’s fearlessness, his gaze never drifted to me for an instant. I was no threat, for all I clung to my dagger, and he knew it.

  “What is this? What do you want?” Pater demanded furiously.

  The man, a Scythian warrior from the looks of him, stared at Pater for a long, silent moment. His smug expression made my blood boil.

  “I want your daughter. Or to be more precise, my prince wants your daughter. She was promised to him, and he will have what was agreed upon.” His accent was strong, but each word was enunciated clearly.

  “Parthia? You come from Parthia?” Pater’s voice suddenly sounded hoarse and croaky.

  The man simply nodded his head regally.

  “My ex-wife negotiated with the prince’s envoy without my permission. There was no promise made... no offer accepted. And there will not be. Ennia Corva will marry one of her own, not a barbarian!”

  The man laughed, a cruel and ugly sound. “So you say, but I have a contract that says different. Signed by you, authorising your wife to stand in your place. You were a foolish man to put so much power in a woman’s hands.

  “However, that is irrelevant now. The negotiation was completed, and an envoy sent to collect the girl. He was put to death when he returned home without her. My prince is not a forgiving man. But your wife has been in constant communication with my prince since then. With her help, I have been able to arrange this... encounter. So I can reclaim what belongs to my prince.”

  My mouth dropped open. Had Pater signed such a document? He had signed something similar when I took over supervising the Wolf Pack in Rome, but I could not see him doing something like that with Camellia.

  Yet he had been entranced by her back then. Might he not have done anything she asked, especially if she made no mention of using that document to arrange a marriage for me.

  Pater turned to me, his eyes wide. He shook his head. “No, I signed no such document. Camellia must have forged my signature.”

  I sighed with relief and nodded. It was only to be expected from that viper. Or harpy, as Marcus had called her. Clearly, her machinations had gone far further than any of us had known. The only thing I was told at the time was that the envoy was coming to meet me and commence negotiations. Who claimed a bride sight-unseen? And wasn’t the whole purpose of wedding me so Parthia could get their hands on Pater’s gladiators? Surely, they could not expect to do that now?

  Unless... unless they planned to hold me for ransom. If this was really a kidnapping, then Pater might be expected to hand over gladiators to assure I remained unharmed. That was a diabolical possibility.

  “I signed no such document. You cannot have my daughter!” Pater yelled, spooking the already unsettled carriage horses. But the men holding their heads kept them quiet.

  Hades! If only they would bolt for town. These kidnappers would not follow us into such a heavily populated area. But the ambushers had clearly considered this, as they had everything else, and were making every effort to keep our horses under control.

  “You no longer have a say in it, old man. Just be glad I am giving you your life.” The leader glanced away to a man who must have been standing close behind me. “Take her!”

  Before I realised what was happening, I was dragged from the cisium, the dagger wrested from my hand with embarrassing ease. In the next instant, I was shoved up onto the back of a horse, my hands bound in front of its rider to keep me in place. Though I rocked to the side, hoping to unseat him, the rider was too solid to give an inch.

  Fear rose up to overwhelm me as I saw my beloved father clutch his fist to his chest, his face a mask of agony.

  “Pater!” I screamed.

  His heart. His heart was failing him! No, please, not that!

  “I will be fine, Pater. They will not hurt me!” I cried, trying to assure him so he would calm down. But he had fallen back onto the seat and was gasping like a landed fish.

  “He has heart problems. I will be no use as a bargaining tool if he dies!” I screamed at the leader.

  For a moment, the man looked uncertain. I pushed a little more. “I am a healer. Let me help him. Then I will go with you. You have my word. Only let me make sure he lives.”

  The dark man looked from Pater to me and back again, his large, bushy moustaches swaying from side to side as he worked his mouth in indecision.

  With a curt nod, he agreed.

  The man in front of me freed my hands. I slid from the horse’s back and rushed to the cisium.

  Pater looked frightened and pale. Never had I seen him so... vulnerable. Not even in those moments when he walked back into the barracks, weighed down with the certainty of my death, had he looked so broken.

  I needed to quieten my mind. They would not give me long, so I had to do what I could for Pater in the time I had.

  I was now all too familiar with healing in crisis situations. It had been just such a situation back in Rome when I healed Talos. He had been dying from a jagged piece of wood that had pierced his side. There had been too much blood. So much that I had feared I could not save him!

  But I had. And I could do it again here!

  Closing my eyes, I dismissed memories of Talos and sought my peaceful place where nothing intruded. I fell into it quickly and with relief. Once I was relaxed and in tune with the Light, I searched for it inside my pater. I saw it immediately, blinking erratically.

  Quickly, I drew on the Light around me, opening myself to funnel it through my own body and into Pater’s. In moments the flow began. I watched in fascination as the Light inside Pater steadied and began to glow more brightly than before. It took little. Just enough to calm his heart and strengthen it.

  Rough hands dragged me away before I finished. But I was sure I had done enough. Or I would have to hope I had.

  A man was yelling at me in a foreign tongue. The language suddenly shifted to Latin. Just one word I knew well. “Witch!”

  Disoriented, I opened my eyes and stared at the leader, who was looking at me like I was some kind of monster.

  “What did you do!” the leader demanded furiously. I was sure he was using fury to disguise his fear.

  “Healed my pater. It was what I asked to do!” I told him darkly, turning back to see Pater opening his eyes and staring at me in astonishment.

  “I did not believe the slaves when they told me. I thought... I thought they were exaggerating. But the pain is gone. How...?” he said, his voice so soft I was sure the leader could not have heard him.

  I was standing next to the cisium, where the man who had torn me from Pater had dropped me.

  Smiling tenderly up at my beloved Pater, who was now too far away for me to touch, I said, “I do not know. It just happens. Do you now see why I was so determined to keep working as a healer? I save lives.”

  He nodded mutely, just as the man who had previously bound my hands dragged me back onto his horse and again secured me to him.

  “You will be hearing from us, old man. And if you value your daughter’s life you will not notify your emperor or send men after her.”

  And before Pater could say anything more, the horse I was on leapt forward and began galloping away into the woods. I craned my neck back to catch my last sight of Pater. But it was no good. With my chest and shoulders plastered uncomfortably to the man in front of me, I could not turn my head far enough.

  Not that it mattered. I knew what I would have seen. Pater sitting on the cushioned seat of the cisium, looking like he had lost everything.

  But at least his heart beat strongly now. For a while at least.

  I wished I had thought to offer him healing earlier than this.

  However, even as I made the wish, I knew it would have done no good. Pater always acted as if nothing was wrong. He would have been insulted by the offer, seeing it as a sign I considered him weak, and brushed it aside. Only when he could not stop me and the pa
in had debilitated him had I been able to do something for him.

  Sometimes I hated male pride!

  Chapter Two

  January 65 CE Puteoli ITALIA

  ORION

  My pack and I reclined on the small grassed area that occupied a space to the side of the training arena. One of the privileges offered to well behaved gladiators was the opportunity to rest on this ground after a strenuous session. And, with the winter sun being so much warmer here than further north, it was a treat indeed. If it had been dark, and we’d been able to light a fire, it might have felt a little like our nights with Accalia.

  I shut that thought down immediately. Thinking of our little she-wolf didn’t do me any good. It weakened me and made me vulnerable. I had proven that when she went missing and I’d been sure she was dead. It had felt like my heart had been torn right out of my chest. I’d been no more than a walking dead man as we searched for her body, unwilling to give up until I saw her beautiful face one last time. The lanista could have sent men for me and thrown me to the lions, it wouldn’t have mattered. Life had lost all meaning.

  I never wanted to feel like that again.

  Finding her alive, and with Talos, had only partially returned my heart to me. From that moment on, I’d been living in terror. Not of my death, but of hers. The idea that something might happen to her again, that she might die for real this time, haunted my dreams and most of my waking hours. My hands shook every time my mind went to that possibility.

  Caring was a weakness that I had to find a way to overcome. A gladiator couldn’t afford to have any weaknesses or vulnerabilities. Because others would use them against you. Hadn’t I learned that lesson well enough as a child? Hadn’t it served me well for years in the barracks?

  Except, I did care about people. I cared about my pack, which included Accalia. And though it was a weakness, it had still brought me together with my pack and eventually made us the toast of Rome. Being a part of a pack had proven to be a strength rather than a weakness, as it was with wolves.

  But only for as long as we all remained healthy. Who knew what would happen to me if our bond was ever broken?

  When the Master had returned early from his tour last year, thinking his daughter dead, he had offered us our freedom in gratitude for saving her life. Part of me had wanted to jump at that offer and go my own way. I could have signed on with any ludi across the empire and made excellent money in my own right. I didn’t need my pack for that. And I wouldn’t have had to worry about the safety of anyone but myself. What was left of my heart would have remained forever intact.

  But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to take the offer and leave.

  The Bastard would be laughing if he could only see me now. As weak and pathetic as a worm. All because I’d made the choice to be part of a pack. And love a woman.

  Had there ever been a choice, though? It had never felt like it. Even back at the very beginning, when we’d stood together against the bullying new boys always got in the barracks, it had felt fated. Our bond had been immediate and permanent. Just as it had been when Accalia joined us.

  But, at least in that instance, there’d been a semblance of a decision. When we discovered who she really was—the Master’s daughter, a patrician, and a danger to our very lives—I could have kept her out. Yet I hadn’t. I’d given in to my need for her, even then. Even before I really understood that what I felt for her was not simply friendship, or even a pack connection, but love. The kind of love a man feels for a woman.

  And I despised the weakness she inspired in me most of all. She was the greatest danger I faced; had ever faced. Oh, yes, the Bastard would be laughing hard if he could see me now.

  “Wolves!” came a call from the gateway to the barracks. Glancing up from my tortured musings, I saw the hulking shape of the lanista standing there.

  We had been given a choice when we’d decided to remain the slaves of our master: Capua or Puteoli. Both were some distance south of Rome. Both were large towns with good sized ludi. One of Capua’s was infamous for training Spartacus. Both towns had amphitheatres, although Capua had the largest in the empire, while Puteoli’s was barely mid-sized, even though it had been built by Augustus.

  Though Capua had been the better choice, we’d eventually gone for Puteoli because it was on the coast, making it easier for Accalia to reach us. Yet another foolish choice made from weakness. We couldn’t hope to make the kind of money we needed here. The purses just weren’t big enough, because the amphitheatre could only accommodate ten thousand.

  And Puteoli had one more fault we had learned about as soon as we arrived. It stank! Volcanic fumes and the hot springs filled the air with the stench of sulphur. The latrines back at the barracks had smelled like flowers in comparison.

  Although it competed with Ostia as the busiest port in the empire, the town’s recent fame came from a stunt Caligula had pulled. Everyone in the empire had likely heard about it.

  When an oracle told him he was as likely to be made emperor as ride a horse from the mainland of Italia to the isle of Baiae, Caligula had set about arranging ships across the expanse. He created a floating bridge over which he rode a horse all the way to the island, two miles away. It was an amazing feat, but a ridiculous one. Caligula had been infamous for such outrageousness.

  For all its drawbacks, we had settled quickly into life in the ludus and enjoyed the relaxing pace of it. Compared to Rome or even our old barracks at home, Puteoli was a year-round holiday. Even our first contest a week ago at the festival of Janus had been an easy one. No one tried to make the Wolf Pack entertain or push our limits.

  Eventually, though, this casual lifestyle would be our downfall. While every other gladiator in schools across the empire was fighting mercilessly every day, getting stronger and keeping their edge, we were losing ours.

  With that depressing thought, I turned my mind to what the lanista required of us. We jogged over to him.

  He shifted anxiously from one foot to the other, immediately alerting us to the fact that something was wrong. I didn’t like the cold chill that suddenly ran down my spine.

  “Your master is here! Look smart. He wants to see you right now.”

  “Is his daughter with him?” Asterius demanded anxiously.

  The manager of the school looked at him as if he was mad. “Daughter? Of course he didn’t bring no daughter to my school. No place for a woman!”

  I exchanged glances with Asterius and saw fear in his eyes. This was not good. If the Master was here alone, where was Accalia?

  We hastily followed the lanista down the long corridor that ran the full length of the training field. At the front of the building, right next to the armoury, the lanista had his office. It was to this room we were directed.

  As soon as we opened the door and saw our master, we knew something was very wrong. Corvus looked as pale as a ghost and as old as an ancient. His eyes were bleak and dull.

  “What?” I cried, before I could think better of it.

  Instead of reprimanding me, Corvus simply nodded his head, giving me the answer to my unspoken question. It was Accalia. Something had happened to Accalia!

  “My daughter has been kidnapped by the Parthian prince Camellia negotiated with. I am afraid he will hurt her to get me to hand over my gladiators. I have been told not to inform the emperor, nor to send men against him, or her life will be sacrificed.”

  “Gods, no!” Typhon exclaimed, his volatile temper exploding as always. But there was nowhere for him to vent his fury, so he was left to fume, clenching and unclenching his fists.

  The Wolf Pack was an odd grouping of very different men with very different temperaments. Many people had commented on it over the years, though we ourselves hardly noticed our differences. It was our similarities that drew us together, the greatest being our unwillingness to let anything get in the way of what we wanted. Of course, being unwilling was not the same as never letting anything get in our way. Over the years, we had n
ever been able to find a way to have what we wanted most: Accalia!

  Typhon had an oriental mother, who gave him his appearance, and a Germanic father, who gave him his size. That size, combined with his mercurial temper, meant most people tended to walk on eggshells around him. Including us at times.

  Asterius was a blend of Alan and Greek blood. As handsome as a Greek god he had always taken life lightly. Or, he had, before he spent three weeks alone with our Accalia and lost his heart to her so completely he was never the same again.

  Talos’ mother was Nubian and as black as onyx. His father was a big Celt, which made his son paler than his mother but still much darker than any of us. He was a giant in more than just name, but was slow to anger and infinitely pragmatic, always taking life as it came.

  Then there was me, a pure blend of Germanic blood, with blonde hair and blue eyes that made me as oddly out of place amongst the Romans as any of my pack. I was the spokesman and sometimes leader because I probably had the best head for strategy and analysis. And I was always cool under pressure.

  Together we balanced out each other’s weaknesses and built on each other’s strengths. And we would need all of those strengths if we were to rescue Accalia. Because that had to be the reason the Master was here.

  “I assume you are here not just to inform us of this catastrophe,” I said flatly.

  “No, I am here to ask you to go after my girl and bring her home again. I dare not risk sending an army of gladiators into foreign territory. Relations with Parthia are still tense after Armenia. If I sent all my men into Parthia it would be seen as an act of war, and Nero would have my head.

  “But if that was all I risked, I would do it. However, if such a force was seen by this Prince Arsaces he would kill my girl. That I cannot risk. So, I want to send you four in covertly. You have a better chance of finding her and getting her away from her captors than an army would. You all excel at moving through territory without papers and with no resources. As do all my gladiators. But you four... You will go where other saner men might not. For her. You would do that for her.”