Champion in Love (bxb)

CHAPTER 22. An Unforeseen Complication

Rufius Fulgentius belly-ached over the major quad fights for no reason.

I shield-walled the first one, Laurentius' thigh healed by the second—that barbarian constitution at work, though nothing like Victor's miraculous recovery. I entered as his sword-master in that and the two consequent fights, rotating Junius, Didius, Probius and Valentine as my partners. Quintus and Valentine alternated as our tricksters. Maybe, I should have put Quintus in every time to take the edge off his newfound aggression, but that was minor.

Alas, a major complication wasn't long in coming, and it hit from an unexpected quarter. I admitted as much to Rufius Fulgentius in his office, where I didn't end up there by choice. I was trying to sneak past it to the dormitory and sleep the above-mentioned complication off, when he bolted out and crooked his finger at me. "Maximus, get your sorry butt in here."

'Sorry butt' was an understatement, and my rear end was getting unhappier by the moment. I stretched out my right leg at a weird angle to soothe the throbbing. I coached my ribs with both of my arms, though it only hurt on the right. I squirmed, trying to find a position where I could breathe without a phantom dagger stabbing me with each attempt to draw air in or out. It was all a waste of time.

My owner dabbed his sweating, reddening bald spot. "What happened?"

"I didn't expect the private duels to be an issue," I said through gritted teeth.

"That's so?" he whined, then dipped his hand into a small money-chest on his desk. He brought up a handful of silver coins, then let them spill back between his fingers. The sestertii made a lovely jingling sound as they fell onto the pile.

I gritted my teeth louder. "Normally, the one-on-ones are just for show, you know that! Nobody gets hurt, let alone die... Fortuna dropped a cow patty under our feet, but I'm sure I can walk it off."

"Fortuna," Rufius Fulgentius repeated after me in a flat tone.

I licked my lips and leaned to the right. Pain jolted through me like a scream of 'bad idea! Abort, abort, abort!' Blinking sunbursts out of my vision, I conceded his point. "Maybe... maybe it wasn't simply bad luck."

He dropped the lid on his money-chest with a thud. Fine, fine... I'd think this through.

Primo: our were being booked by the most powerful families among the political elite.

Secundo: they feasted Messalina Augusta every time I was confirmed.

Now, Fortuna's whims are epic, but every damn time? Not a chance. On top of it, the patrons paid huge bonuses to fight in rare styles, each one more inventive than the next—and we basically eliminated a coincidence. I was this season's fad, as the aristocracy competed to please their Empress.

"I wouldn't have been banged up, if it was the usual thing." I curled my left leg under the chair, because I could. "Naked fisticuffs, you know? Been there, done that, and returned with a shiner. But fighting naked, with a shield of six talons along its rim and a hooked dagger? What in Mithras's name was that?"

Rufius Fulgentius sighed. "Old dogs, new tricks... a terrible mix."

"The dagger wasn't bad. It was the cursed shield that got me in the ribs." And that was why I was spending my afternoon with Rufius Fulgentius instead of Victor. My ribs hated me. If the freaky talons had rusted, even a glancing cut could inflame, and then I really had something to look forward to. But were I too senile to learn on my feet, I'd have been gutted like a trout. "The bottom line is, I won. "

"He won.... Viva, Maximus!" This was the grouchiest 'viva' I'd heard in my life. He grumbled 'he won' a few times, then lifted the lid on his chest to slam it down again. "We're still screwed."