Free The Gladiator Prince by Minnette Meador Page B

could handle it. Since members of the familia were also the gladiatorial guards, they had little worries about the evenings; Abella never came to the ludus after dark. However, he often came down to watch the training. Thane was trusting that the men could handle this as well. If the Brit wore his helmet, they could keep up the disguise, as long as Abella did not look too closely. He took comfort in the fact that the Lanista had not said more than a word to him in almost nine months, and usually talked to Darweshi about the men.
    Putting his fate in the company’s hands, Thane took the torch and headed for his chambers to grab the last of his provisions.

 
     
     
     
    Chapter IX
     
     
    Bahar rushed her through the woods in her nightgown, having thrown an old cloak over her shoulders that he had stolen from the line of slave clothes outside the house. Once Bahar accepted the inevitable, he had been a marvel at getting everything organized quickly. Phaedra knew he had made provisions long ago for a quick departure from Abella; it was something that Althea had drilled into both of them from very early on. Now, Phaedra was frightened; it was happening too quickly. She had had little time to think things through. Protesting that they needed to return to the house so she could get her things, Bahar only shook his head then got insistent.
    She was thankful for the sandals she had on, but the bottom of her best linen synthesis was probably ruined. To make matters worse, she was famished; there had been no time for dinner in all the excitement, and Bahar would not let her stop in town on their way out. He had given her an apple, but it was small and tart, probably a native. It did nothing more than make her stomach cramp.
    He threatened her with a gag if she did not stop complaining, so Phaedra tried to concentrate on making it through the town without anyone seeing them, dressed the way she was. It was very late, so there was no one on the streets, but she had no idea where Bahar was taking her.
    When they passed through the city gates, the guards glanced at the young pair and went back to their game, since Bahar and Phaedra were leaving the city. Bahar steered her toward an old cottage along the main road and knocked on the door.
    An orange light brightened beneath the door, and Phaedra could hear a man’s voice then a woman’s. The sound of a bolt sliding then the door screeching open sent shivers down Phaedra’s back, but the old man holding up a lantern seemed harmless enough. Winkles creased his bulbous cheeks and hanging jowls. His smell stung her eyes.
    “Oh, it is you,” he stated gruffly. Bahar glanced behind them and pushed the man back through the door, closing it quickly when they were in.
    Taking off his hood, he nodded to the old man. “I need my things.”
    The hut stank of animal feces and garbage, making Phaedra put her fingers to her nose, but Bahar hit her hard with his elbow and she instantly lowered them. Apparently, they needed this man, whoever he was. Phaedra swallowed, clinging to the fabric of Bahar’s tunic.
    Setting the lantern down on a rough table hacked from a stump, the man scurried an old woman through a primitive door then closed it. He then grunted and grabbed a heavier lantern from the wall, which he lit with a tallow candle.
    “This way,” he wheezed pointing to another door at the back of the small home.
    Once outside, Phaedra breathed a little easier but had to watch where she was stepping since the ground was littered with horse, sheep and goat droppings. She slipped more than once and immediately wished she had stayed home.
    The man opened a large door of an out building and guided them inside.
    Leather tack jingled from the ceiling, grazing their faces like spider webs as they moved forward. Chills scattered through Phaedra’s back whenever they touched her face. On the right wall, farming instruments hung in sharp suspended confusion intermixed with weapons, pots, and a