Balbus clapped his hands and ordered slaves to bring wine. If she was at all taken aback by this show of hospitality, she gave no sign. Her cold gaze did not leave him and, though he could not be certain, Balbus thought there was the merest hint of an ironic half-smile playing about her lips. ‘You have been fighting extremely well,’ he told her as they sipped the local vintage.
Lysandra shrugged at the compliment. ‘Of course. I hope to be matched against more competent opponents. These we face currently are somewhat beneath me.’
Balbus resisted the urge to laugh at her casual arrogance. Or, he mused, was it more than mere superciliousness. He had the distinct impression that Lysandra’s bluster was heartfelt. ‘You underestimate the other schools, Lysandra,’ he offered. ‘There are some good fighters out there.’
‘I underestimate nothing, Lucius Balbus,’ she said. ‘That is folly.
However, I am aware of my own skills and have seen nothing in this competition to trouble me.’
‘You have not yet seen Sorina take to the sands.’ Balbus wanted to know just what Lysandra thought of his Gladiatrix Prima.
‘That is not a concern. We will not fight each other in these games. If the gods will that we are to meet on some other occasion, I shall have no compunction in sending your most profitable asset to Hades. But,’ she added, ‘you have not summoned me here to discuss my opinions on the games.’
‘No,’ Balbus agreed. There was little point in stalling matters any further. ‘The governor is quite taken with you,’ he went on.
‘He wants to meet you.’
‘He is an admirer of gladiatrices? Of women fighters?’ Lysandra raised a quizzical brow.
‘Well, as you say,’ Balbus smiled at her, ‘you are extremely good.’
Lysandra seemed to mull that over for a few moments. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘That would be most pleasant. I fail to see why Frontinus would want a slave at his dinner table, however.’ She said this with a sarcastic lilt in her voice.
‘Well…’ Balbus spread his hands. ‘Everybody loves the games.
Frontinus is a connoisseur and his position affords him the opportunity to meet the best fighters. You should be honoured,’ he added, appealing to her ego.
‘Slaves have no honour, Balbus,’ she told him mildly.
‘Yes, well,’ he brushed over that. ‘Have a good time.’
Lysandra rose to her feet and made to go to the door. She paused, and turned back to him. ‘Balbus… the governor wishes to talk to me. And that is all?’
Balbus sighed. He wanted to lie to her, but he realised that if Lysandra went into the situation unknowing, her reaction to wandering hands from Frontinus could be violent, as she had proven when Nastasen had manhandled her. That would certainly spell death for her, and a mountain of trouble for him and the repercussions. ‘You had better sit down,’ he said. He watched her return to her seat, wondering how she was going to react to the unspoken truth. ‘Lysandra. It may be that he wants more than talk.’
‘I will not lay with him,’ she affirmed, ice in her voice. ‘We are not whores, I have told you this. I am, or was, a Priestess of Athene. It is forbidden for me to be known by a man.’
Balbus had not known that, but part of the girl’s enigma was revealed to him; this, then, was why she reacted so to Nastasen’s attentions. ‘Look, I said it may be that he wants to…’ the lanista cleared his throat, ‘you know. Do it. But maybe not. I just thought I would say something in case he… you know…’ Balbus trailed off, feeling somewhat like a mouse under the gaze of a snake.
‘In that case, it is impossible for me to attend. Balbus, you must tell him I am unwell.’
‘Lysandra, you cannot refuse a summons from the governor.’
The lanista hated to implore, but the ramifications of snubbing an influential man like Frontinus would be huge.
‘No.’
‘Look.’ Balbus became all business. ‘I’ll make it worth your while.’
‘There is nothing you can offer me that will make me change my mind.’ Lysandra said loftily. ‘Unless you offer me freedom, which I sincerely doubt.’
‘No, I can’t offer you that,’ he agreed. ‘But I can cancel the twenty lashes you are to receive when you return to the ludus.
And,’ he added, ‘I can also forget about the complaints from the surgeon that you knocked him out cold to steal drugs for an already dead companion.’
‘I am used to the lash, Balbus. It was common to receive it in the agoge. Or have you failed to notice how much my back is scarred already?’
‘I can also have you and your Greeks moved from the barracks cells into the houses,’ Balbus offered, his eyes not leaving hers.
She wavered, he could see it. ‘And ensure that Nastasen is assigned duties that keep him away from you.’ He pressed his advantage.
‘In effect, you would be responsible for training the Greek women.
Though of course, you would have to muster with the others.
You must have seen that the more senior gladiatrices do not have the same regime as you currently do. I can elevate you and your women,’ he snapped his fingers, ‘like that.’
‘ If I go.’
‘Yes. If you go.’
Lysandra got to her feet and commenced pacing up and down her arms folded across her chest, finger tapping her chin. Balbus watched, fancying he could read her thoughts by her expression. Intelligent she may be, but he was the master of making deals, his experience spanning years. She stopped suddenly. ‘Very well. I shall go, if you swear that you will not renege on your promise.’
‘I swear,’ Balbus said at once, raising his hands piously.
Lysandra rolled her eyes. ‘You make oaths too swiftly, Balbus.’
‘I am a religious man,’ he retorted. ‘You may not think it, but it is the truth.’ Lysandra stared at him for too long and Balbus had to fight down the urge to fidget under her cold, ice coloured gaze. There was something commanding about her, he realised.
Guile she may not possess, but nevertheless she would be a formidable woman in years to come.
‘I hope matters do not transpire as you have foreseen,’ she said quietly. ‘But if the lives of my sister Hellenes can be made better by my…’ she trailed off. ‘By my giving myself to this man, then it shall be done.’
‘I hope so too.’ Balbus was surprised that he actually meant it. He did, however, feel no guilt that he had bargained with gifts that Lysandra and her women had earned already. Their performances had warranted that they be elevated, but it would have been senseless to let her know that. Better to let her think that her self-sacrifice was duly noble.
And he was pleased that, along with their toughness, Spartan gullibility was no myth either.
Lysandra returned to the amphitheatre, her face a controlled mask.
Inside she was in turmoil, her stomach in knots at what she may have to do. But it would be churlish of her to burden the women with her concerns. She desperately wanted to see Eirianwen, to seek her counsel, but there was no time. Balbus had instructed her to go straight to the baths and have herself ‘made present-able’ for Frontinus, but she felt she must share her news, at least the good part of it, with her confederates.
‘What happened?’ Thebe was full of concern when she entered the cell.
‘It is nothing bad.’ Lysandra forced herself to smile. ‘In fact, it is all good,’ she went on. ‘As the best amongst you, I have been asked to attend a dinner tonight held by the governor of all Asia Minor. It seems that Sextus Julius Frontinus is an admirer of mine and the lanista is keen to pander to his whims.’ Lysandra assumed that Thebe’s roll of the eyes and sour expression was pure jealousy; little did the Corinthian know that more than dinner would be on Frontinus’s menu. ‘The other news,’ she continued, ‘concerns us all. Balbus is impressed with us and has ordered that, on our return from the games, we are to be elevated from the novice class.’ This was greeted by nods and grins from the women. ‘We are to be moved from our cells to the main houses. I shall be in command, of course.’