The Slave's Gladiator

Chapter 7: Awaken

Her eyes flickered open. What? A shudder wrecked through her body, forcing another cough free. Where am I? Dusty, clay bricks surrounded her. She tried to sit up, but her body refused. This isn't my shack.

Movement turned her head. Her eyes barely saw through the shadows of early dawn. "Who are you?" She croaked. Each word felt like thousands of sand pebbles rubbing against her throat.

The figure moved toward her. With each step, empty eyes stared back at her. Slowly, they shifted from her masters' to Varinius' to Agustin' and finally to Gamba'. She tried to move again. Her body had turned to stone.

Its hand rose, revealing the silver glow of the dagger.

"No." She thrashed around. "No!" She screamed as it plugged toward her chest.

"No!" She shot up. Stars burst across her vision as the room turned again. Something grabbed onto her wrist. A scream burst from her lips.

"Valeria." Hands grabbed her thrashing body. "Valeria, it's me." His dark eyes softened. "It's me." Hadriana blinked. Gamba.

Leaning forehead, his forehead touched hers. Her eyes closed, taking in the warmth of his touch. Another shudder wreck through her body. A groan left her lips as she doubled over. Her stomach churned. Ugh, I don't feel soo-

Bile spewed from her lips, right into a bowl Gamba grabbed in time. "It's alright." His hand massaged her back before brushing her hair back. "You're alright." Weakly, Hadriana pushed the bowl away. Out her peripheral vision, various supplies laid along the ground: bottles, bowls, rags and even vinegar.

Her eyes snapped shut when the room began to spin again. What is wrong with me? Exhaustion weighed down on her body, pulling her into sleep again.

Time, in a state of sickness, is a concept that made no sense. Seconds became minutes and minutes became hours when Hadriana finally opened her eyes again. Moonlight streamed through the single window, before snoring shifted her gaze.

He was curled in a fetal position. Soft snores left his lips while his chest rose and fell in steady slumber. Despite his large, foreboding figure, there was something peaceful about the scene before her. There was a leather bound object under his hand.

A journal? What would a gladiator do with such a luxury item? Did he win it in a fight? Twitching fingers snapped her gaze back to his face. His eyebrows furrowed together as his lips pressed into a sleeping pout. Was he having a nightmare?

His widening eyes answered her question. His gaze snapped around, before they landed on her. His fearful expression softened to relief. "You're awake."

"I am."

He pushed himself up. "How are you feeling?" He moved closer. His gaze searched her face frantically just in case he had missed any pain. She swallowed, reigniting the scratchy fire in her throat. "Water?" She croaked.

The mug was in front of her instantly. "Here." The liquid of life coated her lips and mouth, soothing the dryness that claimed them. With each gulp, a fire of thirst reawakened inside. Her hands gripped the mug like it was life and death.

A tug wrestled it free. He held the mug up and away from her grabby hands. "You're going to make yourself sick again if you keep drinking that fast." He slowly moved the mug back to her lips. "Sips, Valeria."

Her hands tightened around the mug again. Don't let go! He's just going to take it from you again. Hadriana swallowed. No, Gamba would never do that. Meeting his dark gaze, her heart warmed. He would never do that.