“Talk to me, Fallon,” he said. “It has been so long. Tell me of yourself.”
Sorcha retreated to the far end of the room with the guard, leaving us alone for a little while. Arviragus was lucid for most of our conversation—which surprised me, considering the amount of wine he imbibed even in that short time. He asked me how I had come to be in Rome. His eyes flicked over to Sorcha when I told him I was now owned by the Ludus Achillea, but he didn’t say anything. I didn’t belabor the point. Sorcha was the only friend he’d had in his captivity, and I wasn’t about to air my resentment in front of him.
When he asked me about the upcoming circuit, I felt the heat of shame creep into my cheeks. The girls of the Ludus Achillea would be competing for a lead role in the Triumphs—the very same celebrations that would see Arviragus paraded through the streets of Rome to be put to death. But the Arverni king was a strategist first and foremost, and he brushed aside talk of his own impending fate to counsel me on mine.
“A role like that’ll carry a hefty purse if you win,” he grunted thoughtfully, scratching at his beard.
“I don’t care about the money!” I scoffed.
“Eh?” Arviragus peered at me through bloodshot eyes. “Why not? Everybody else in the Republic does.”
“I have my honor.” I lifted my chin. “I won’t dress up as some silly spirit of Victory and fight for Caesar like a trained ape.”
“I would.”
I gaped at him.
“I’ve learned a few things over the years, Fallon,” he said. “I told you I was sorry about the world I left behind when I surrendered to Caesar, and I am. You say there was nothing more for me to fight for, and you were right. But you can’t change the ways of the world if you’re no longer a part of it.”
I frowned.
“In your case, money makes you a part of it,” he explained with a grin. “The favor of Caesar makes you a bigger part of it. The ability to one day rid yourself of that collar and all it stands for makes you a force to be reckoned with. Think about that, Fallon. Be an idealist, by all means, but be a pragmatic one.”
“You think I should fight for Caesar?”
“I think you should fight for yourself,” he said. “But those things needn’t be exclusive. Temper passion with control, conviction with cunning. Win, Fallon, the way I didn’t.”
His fingers fumbled as he reached for the wine jug, almost spilling it. I took it from him and poured another measure into his cup. He nodded his thanks and drank deeply.
“In the arena,” he continued, “it won’t be enough just to fight your best. It’s never enough to simply win the battle. What you have to win is their hearts. Caesar’s heart. Charm them, beguile them, seduce the mob. That will make him fall in love with you. Because unless Caesar loves you, you cannot truly claim Victory.”
I heard the sound of someone discreetly clearing her throat, and I looked up to see that Sorcha had returned. She nodded toward the door. Arviragus grunted, tossing the rest of the wine down his throat in one gulp, and waved for me to go with her. My heart hurt at the thought of never seeing him alive again. As I turned to leave, he called out to me one last time.
“Be brave, gladiatrix,” he said. “And be wary. Bright things beget treachery. Beautiful things breed envy. Once you win Caesar’s love, you’ll earn his enemies’ hate.”
“The Morrigan keep you, Arviragus,” I said.
He laughed at that. “She won’t have much choice, soon.”
? ? ?
As Kronos drove me and Sorcha back to the Ludus Achillea, I watched the six new chariot horses trotting behind us down the road, tethered on a line. They seemed to me to be creatures that embodied the perfect balance between spirited and obedient. Passion and control, like Arviragus had said.
I turned to Sorcha. “Why did you take me to see him?”
“To show you why I did what I did,” she said. “To help you understand why I came here to Rome and fought for Caesar and never went home again.”
“You did it because of Arviragus?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I did it because of Father. And you.”
“I don’t understand—”
“I wasn’t captured, Fallon!” Sorcha exclaimed.
Of course she was captured. My sister wouldn’t have surrendered. Ever.
She sighed.
“When I left Durovernum for the last time,” she continued, “I knew I wouldn’t ever go back. I had Olun cast the auguries for my fortune, and they told me so, unequivocally. I thought it was because I would die in battle, but that wasn’t it. There was a battle, to be sure. It began that evening and carried on into the night, and Caesar saw me fighting in the field. He discovered who I was and understood why I was there: to free Father.”