He laughed. A warm, hearty laugh.
Marcus stared at him. ‘I know you. I think. I recognize your face.’ Then it struck him. This was the leader of the party who had come to see the gladiator show.
‘We haven’t been formally introduced, my boy. My name is Gaius Julius Caesar.’ He spoke as though the name should mean something to Marcus and his smile faded a little when it provoked no reaction. ‘Anyway, I wanted to be here when you regained consciousness. I wanted to thank you for saving the life of my niece, Portia.’
Marcus closed his eyes briefly and forced himself to concentrate. ‘The girl who fell into the arena?’
‘Yes.’
‘She’s unhurt?’
‘Yes. Quite safe. Porcino’s surgeon has dressed her wound and says she will recover well enough. Thanks to you.’ Caesar leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs. He was wearing a richly embroidered red tunic. ‘This time it was an accident.’ He mused. ‘Next time, who knows?’
‘Next time?’
Caesar stared at Marcus for a moment in silence. ‘I think I may have stayed away from Rome too long. You don’t seem to have heard of me, young man.’
‘No, sir,’ Marcus admitted. A thought struck him and he felt a sudden surge of hope. ‘Do you know General Pompeius?’
‘How could one not know Pompeius? The greatest man in Rome!’
‘Is he a friend of yours?’
‘Pompeius the Great?’ Caesar thought a moment and shrugged. ‘I doubt whether any truly great man can ever have real friends. Enemies, yes.’
Marcus felt the hope drain from his body. ‘Then you are his enemy.’
‘No. It’s just that I do not aspire to be the friend of so great a man. Not yet.’ Caesar eased himself back and sat erect, as if seated on a throne. ‘You have done me a great service, Marcus. Yet I have more use for you. Though you have not heard of me, I have some influence in Rome, and soon I will have far more power. Naturally, that means I will have a growing number of enemies – I and my family. Today’s events have helped me to make a decision. I need a bodyguard for Portia. Someone tough, skilled with weapons and brave – and someone unobtrusive. It would not do to show my enemies that I am afraid of them. No one will pay much attention to a boy your age. That’s why I have decided to make you Portia’s bodyguard. That will be your job, from now on, or until I find other duties for you.’
Marcus’s eyes widened. ‘Me? But, sir, I already have a master. I am owned by Porcino.’
‘Not any more. I bought you this afternoon, while you were asleep. I paid Porcino as good a price as he would get for a fully trained gladiator, so he’s more than happy with the deal. Oh, and from now on, you call me master and not sir. Understand?’
‘Yes… master.’
‘Good!’ Caesar clapped his hands together. ‘That’s dealt with, then. You will rest here until your wounds have healed enough for one of Porcino’s men to escort you to join my household in Rome. Your duties will be explained to you then. How does that sound, Marcus?’
He lowered his gaze from the man and thought for a moment. He would be leaving his few friends behind. The three men in his stall were the closest of his companions and he would miss them, but that was a small price to pay for being brought much closer to Pompeius and what he hoped would be the end of his quest. Marcus looked up at Caesar and nodded. ‘I am honoured, master.’
The man rose to his feet and his expression hardened. ‘I have stated my thanks to you. That is enough. We will not mention the matter again. From this moment never forget that I am your master and you are my slave. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, master.’
‘When we next meet, it will be in Rome. I wish you a swift recovery.’
Without waiting for a reply, Caesar turned and walked out of the room, leaving Marcus to his thoughts. The footsteps receded into the distance and there was silence, apart from the birdsong from the nearby vegetable garden. Marcus was alone. He stared up at the ceiling and felt more hopeful than he had for a long time. Only that morning he had been afraid that he would not live to see another day. Even though he had defeated Ferax, he would have been condemned to continue training as a gladiator, facing the peril of many more fights before he had the chance to win his freedom. Now he would be the guardian of a pampered Roman aristocrat, living in the heart of Rome, with good prospects of finding General Pompeius and presenting his case to him. Yes, he sighed peacefully, life had taken a turn for the better.
‘I’m not disturbing you, am I?’
Marcus quickly turned his head towards the voice and winced as a burning twinge shot through his shoulder.
‘Oh!’ Portia looked at him anxiously from just inside the doorway. ‘I didn’t mean to surprise you. I’m sorry, I should have knocked. Only I didn’t because I don’t think I should be here. Father would disapprove. He’s a friend of Uncle Julius and spends most of his time worrying about appearances.’
As Marcus gritted his teeth and waited for the pain to pass, she came to the side of the bed and stared down at him. ‘You look… dreadful. All covered with bruises and cuts, and your arm in bandages.’
Marcus raised his right hand and gestured towards her. ‘You don’t look too good yourself.’
Besides the dressing on her elbow she had some scratches and grazes on her pale cheeks.
Portia ignored the comment and frowned slightly. ‘Does it hurt much?’
‘Yes.’
‘I see.’ She looked over him and then met his gaze again. ‘I wish I hadn’t fallen over the rail. I wish that you didn’t have to get hurt on my account. I’m sorry.’
‘I would have had to fight the wolves in any case.’ Marcus smiled faintly. ‘I was bound to get injured. In fact, I’m lucky to be alive.’
‘You were very brave,’ she said quietly.
‘I did what I had to.’
‘Yes, I suppose.’ She cocked her head slightly to one side. ‘Do you mind if I ask you something?’
Marcus pursed his lips. ‘No. What is it?’
‘I was wondering, why didn’t you kill that other boy when you had the chance? I could see he hated you. He would not have spared you if the positions had been reversed.’
‘That’s true enough,’ Marcus reflected.
‘So why didn’t you do it?’
‘He was beaten. There was no sense to it. The fight was over. It seemed like a waste to kill him…’ Marcus tried to remember the moment more clearly. ‘I don’t know. I can’t recall it very well. It just didn’t seem… right.’
Portia stared at him and then laughed. ‘You don’t sound like any gladiator I have ever met.’
‘And you’ve met quite a few, then?’ Marcus responded drily.
She stopped laughing. ‘Yes, actually.’
There was a difficult silence and then she continued in a more even tone. ‘It seems that you are to be my bodyguard. Uncle Julius thinks you will be quite formidable. For my part I have only one question to ask of you. Are you prepared to kill anyone who endangers me?’
Marcus thought a moment and nodded. ‘If I have to.’
‘Very well. Then I shall see you later, in Rome, Marcus.’ A smile flickered on her lips as she spoke his name. Then she patted his good arm and hurried to the door. With a furtive look both ways, she stealthily emerged from the room and crept away.
He fell asleep again soon after and woke the next morning with his muscles feeling stiff and bruised. The wound to his arm and the crushing bite from the wolf caused him a great deal of pain and he groaned as he tried to get out of bed. A moment later the gladiator school’s surgeon, Apocrites, hurried into the room.
‘What do you think you are doing? Lie back down, at once. Before you reopen those wounds.’
Marcus did as he was told, and the surgeon quickly inspected his wounds and changed the dressing on his arm. The bites and minor cuts he left uncovered.
‘Best let some fresh air get to them. They’ll heal quickly enough. The arm will take a bit longer. I’ve stitched the wound together. In eight to ten days the stitches can be extracted. Tell that to the surgeon in your new master’s household, assuming there is a surgeon, that is.’