Free Heart of the Gladiator (Affairs of the Arena Book 1) by Lydia Pax Page B

for extra money, she would set herself back to basket weaving, which was a skill she learned as a slave and which she had used to help pay for her freedom at a young age. Caius had donated his winnings to her to make up the remainder when she came close to the requisite sum.
    The two had been separated at a young age when Caius was sent to the mines. She thought him dead for years, and only discovered that he lived after his fifth year of victories in the arena.
    In that way, if nothing else, Caius had to be grateful for the arena. It had reunited him with his family.
    Seneca, gray-haired and shorter than most men, worked as a barber. The shop he operated was, covertly, a front to bring in more income for a Puteoli nobleman (who, due to his noble status, was not allowed to own any businesses himself).
    Unfortunately, the noble was not a fan of Caius, having lost several million sestercii by betting against him. A job there for Caius had been out of the question.
    For a few moments, Caius held Fabia still, enjoying her warmth against him. Gods, but she was a bright sight for his eyes! His daughter would no doubt grow into the spitting image of her mother. She had the same serious dark eyes, the same wild black hair that refused all attempts to tame it.
    His first instinct was to scold his family for coming to this terrible place—an instinct which he knew was wrong. Better to find out the whole story first.
    “I’m so glad to see you, little one.” He hugged Fabia again. “But what are you doing here?” The question was directed now to Seneca and Camilla. “I thought we had discussed how it was best for me to see my tenure through without visitations.”
    “Aye,” said Seneca. “You did at that.”
    His eyes flitted nervously from Camilla to Caius. Despite never having spared a harsh word in Seneca’s direction, Caius knew the older man was deathly afraid of him. As if, because he was a gladiator, his rage could be unleashed at any moment.
    Caius couldn’t blame him. He knew men like that. He trained with them every day, in fact.
    “We wouldn’t have come, Caius,” said Camilla. “Except that...we thought you should know what’s happened.”
    “And what’s that?”
    “The money from your sale. It’s wonderful. But two nights past...” she drifted. “We would have come sooner, but everything had to be set in order.”
    Caius recognized the worry in his sister’s face. “What are you talking about?”
    “There was a collapse,” said Seneca. “At our house. Everyone is fine, don't worry. It started next door, actually. Their roof caved in all the way through and the weight folded the house in. That house fell into ours and brought everything down. They’re not fine, the neighbors. But, we are. As I said. But the house is gone. And I can’t have my children living in the streets.”
    “No.” A slow, cold realization slipped over Caius. “No, you can’t.”
    “I should go,” said Aeliana. “I’m going to go.”
    Caius shook his head. He gestured for her to enter his cell completely. “No. Please. Stay.”
    A deep look of embarrassment flashed in her gray eyes, but it was replaced quickly with compassion. She smiled and sat catty-cornered to him on the cot.
    “Now, I can take a loan out from an equestrian or two I know. But they believe very mightily in interest, and—”
    “The money from my sale would make your lives simpler. And less dangerous for not owing money.”
    Seneca and Camilla exchanged a glance. “Yes,” said Camilla. “But it would mean that the money would not go to your intended purpose.”
    For returning to the arena, Rufus had arranged for Caius to be paid a hefty sum. Caius was an investment for Rufus, one that he could earn quite a lot of money for by booking at arenas around the peninsula.
    That money had been intended to pay for schooling for Fabia. Nice clothes. Proper food to eat. She was not to be a financial burden on their family. They would do what they could,