Free The Gladiator Prince by Minnette Meador Page A

several heartbeats. With a nod, he said, “I will do it. But you owe me a favor, prince.”
    Grabbing his forearm with one hand, Thane clapped the Brit’s shoulder with the other. “It will be my honor to owe you, Brennus. Are you sure of your convictions? If Abella finds out…”
    “I resent that, Prince!” he declared with mock ferocity. “I am known far and wide for my clever imitation of you!” Swinging his arm wide, two of the other gladiators had to duck. “Ask anyone here.”
    Tilting his head, Darweshi searched Brennus’ face. “The beard will have to go…”
    Brennus, apparently realizing for the first time what exactly they were asking him to do, grabbed the three braids and pulled them away from Darweshi’s outstretched hand.
    “Blood will flow, my friend, ere I lose these prides of mine.”
    “I promise you,” said Thane, “if Abella has not cut off your head for imitating me in my absence, I will bring you back magic elixirs from Rome that will grow your precious prides back in less than a season. Agreed?”
    Brennus glanced at the other laughing gladiators. “There may be head chopping?”
    “Not for the best imposter in the land. The others will have your back. When do you fight next?” asked Darweshi.
    “Not until the new year, Doctores . In Londinium.”
    “That should give you ample time to grow back your prides, my friend.”
    Darweshi slammed his stick on the hard ground and called for the end of the meeting. The familia left with Brennus leading them in a bawdy song about a young Briton wife.
    When Thane dumped his cup into the dirt getting up to leave, Darweshi touched his shoulder to stop him and watched until the other men disappeared.
    “You are certain of this?” he asked seriously.
    “Very certain. Brennus will do well. Mind his playfulness in the arena; no one would think I could ever be so jolly.”
    Darweshi nodded. “Have you thought about the markings?”
    For the first time that night, Thane felt a twinge of foreboding. He had completely forgotten about the gladiatorial tattoos that graced his cheek, hands, and legs. Touching the one on his face, he took a step back. “I do not know…”
    “Worry not, my friend,” the Afrikan replied with a deep barreling laugh. “Darweshi knows.”
    From somewhere deep inside his elaborate Afrikan robe, he pulled a clay pot with a corked lid and placed it in Thane’s hands. “That is fat from lion mixed with the flowers of the wild poppy. Powerful magic. Dangerous weapon for him that holds it.” Then a sudden white grin split his face in two, and another rolling laugh filled the chamber. “Also used by my wives to paint their faces. I keep that to Darweshi, yes?”
    Thane took the man’s arm. “I cannot begin to thank you for what you are doing. I promise…”
    “Promise nothing,” Darweshi said holding up a coal black finger. “You return. That is good enough.” He gripped Thane by the shoulders. “Darweshi think this be your destiny, Briton Prince. If I do not see you again, I will sing your bravery to my children and have them sing it to their children, how the gladiator prince took on the mighty red dogs and made them howl in the night.”
    “May the gods bless you, Darweshi.”
    “And she who is all bless you, as well.”
    He bowed low and swept from the room, leaving Thane behind to wonder.
    He trusted the men of his familia completely. He would have lost his life many times, if it had not been for them. He wondered again how long they could hold the ruse. A week? A month? Before long, Abella was going to want audience with Thane for one thing or another.
    Both Darweshi and Thane held the title of
primus palus
, gladiatorial leaders. However, while Darweshi was the head doctores , Thane was in charge of all the new recruits and held the title of doctores secutorum . While Brennus was very close in appearance to Thane, he had actually been trained as a retiarius , a net fighter. Darweshi seemed to think they