The Lady Out of Time

9 - Patronized

After that, Agrippa informed Julia that he was leaving her behind in the villa for three days while he went away to attend Lucius’s trial and speak on his behalf. When she vocalized her unrestrained displeasure at this arrangement, he raised an eyebrow and reminded her that neither women nor slaves were permitted to attend. Incidentally, she was both. Unless there was some information to the contrary that she wanted to impart to him?

Julia had declined to answer his pointed, prying question, and although he knew there were ways to get the truth out of her if he was persistent enough, he didn’t want to resort to violence or frighten her. And he didn’t have time to untangle the mystery that Julia was right now anyway - there was a life in the balance. The girl would still be here when he returned.

And when he came back, he promised himself, he would uncover the truth no matter the reason for her continued deception. Why she refused to tell him, he couldn’t fathom - to live life as a willing slave was unthinkable. Why would she want this? Why wouldn’t she leap at the chance for freedom and vindication?

When he returned three nights later, Julia had already retired along with the rest of the slaves who labored during the day. He had no doubt that she had gotten into another vicious argument or ten with Annia in his absence; now that he had returned, some peace should return to the villa. At least she was unharmed. Annia wasn’t above leaving bruises whenever she thought she could get away with it, but Julia being his personal attendant must have afforded her some protection. Good. He would have had to discipline the woman if she had gone too far, regardless of who her father was to him.

He didn’t wake Julia to let her know he had come back, even though the niggling temptation was there. He waited until the morning sun rose and she appeared in front of his room to tell her that Lucius had been acquitted based on the evidence she had found.

“Did you give me credit?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a half-smile. “I told them it was a bright, clever girl who discovered the proof of Lucius’s innocence. But they weren’t inclined to believe me, so you’ll have to receive second hand praise.”

She rolled her eyes. “They didn’t believe that a woman could possibly catch something a man didn’t? As if that hasn’t been happening since the beginning of time.”

“Even so.”

“And it wasn’t because I’m a slave?”

“I’m sure that weighed heavily on their pride as well.”

She rolled her eyes again and got to work slipping a fresh tunic over his head. He continued to watch her as she arranged his toga as well, noting the way her brow furrowed in a distinctly un-childish way. Why was it that everything she did failed to suit her age?

“You did well. Lucius is still in a coma, but because of you, he is recovering slowly instead of being executed in his sleep. Request anything you want of me.”

She stopped and turned a glinting gaze up at him.

“...Within reason,” he added quickly.

She frowned, and he dipped his chin in mock warning. He didn’t know what she would have asked of him if he had truly given her a blank tablet, but that was a mystery he wisely left unanswered.

“Take me out to the city,” she said. “I heard there’s some event happening this week, but I haven’t been allowed to step foot out of here in case you came back early.”

He chuckled at the none too subtle blame and restlessness in her voice. “You are responsible for me, aren’t you?”

“Don’t patronize me! You should have taken me with you to the trial. I could have disguised myself.”

He made a vague humming sound in response, knowing that it would only infuriate her all the more. A riled up Julia was too entertaining.

“So?” she demanded. “Are you going to take me out?”

“This event, you have no idea what it is, do you?”

“No, because no one will stop for long enough to tell me.”

He smiled. “It’s a gladiatorial event. I doubt that you would be able to handle it, much less enjoy it. I suggest you use your one favor on something else.”

Her eyebrows knit together in a fierce scowl. “Handle? A man telling me that I can’t handle - that’s it. I want to go. Take me there.”

Ordinarily, he would have waited until she mellowed with her demanding attitude before giving in, but with the recent newfound knowledge that she should not be a slave at all, it didn’t feel right to treat her as an inferior. With a sigh, he nodded at the door.

“Go, then. Ask one of the women to dress you appropriately, and come meet me at the entrance of the courtyard.”

* * * * *

Julia had forgotten that the Colosseum of Ancient Rome was never built until well into the Common Era. She had been entertaining excited thoughts about entering the grand amphitheater that she had only ever explored in its ruined state - real history! And while she desperately wanted to figure out how to return to the present while not getting herself killed in the process, she couldn’t pass up on the chance to make Agrippa take her out on a bona fide date. He didn’t know it was one, of course, but men were oblivious anyway. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

And if she was good, maybe he would even wine and dine her later...She had always appreciated the way a good Armani suit fit a man’s body, but Agrippa looked all kinds of delectable in his upper-class attire.

Maybe the time travel hallucinatory dream had truly addled her mind, but even if that were the case, she was going to appreciate whatever historic landmarks she came across, whether that was the grand Colosseum or Agrippa’s fine biceps peeking out through the fabric of his toga.

Except the Colosseum didn’t exist yet, and she stared instead at a massive U-shaped building that she couldn’t seem to place in her memory. It was still a massive structure, but longer than it was tall or wide.

“What is this place?” she asked when Agrippa’s carriage dropped them off at one of the archway entrances toward the end of the long building.

“This is the Circus Maximus. It looks like we’re in time for the second round of the fights.”

She followed him in, and several minutes later, they were in one of the front row seats of the building. She peered down the way, noting how similar this place looked to a horse racetrack. But they were at the narrow, flat end of the building’s seating; wasn’t it too far to see the fight from here if it took place in the middle of the stadium?

She looked to her right to see Agrippa taking a seat behind her, and a male slave held wine and a platter of grapes by his hand. She wondered if that was supposed to be her job, but hey, if she wasn’t being prompted to do so…

She glanced around and noted the few other patrons in this section. Wealthy men. Very wealthy. So wait - was this seating not so bad after all? Compared to the other areas, it was almost as if this part was cordoned off and specially reserved for the men of highest stature like Agrippa.

Of course. She kept forgetting that the general for all his stoic, graceful ways was still second in power only to Augustus. Even the other patrons greeted him with overly fawning words and then kept a respectful distance.

Hm. She ought to utilize this more, she thought privately. She didn’t know what for yet, but it was a waste to not exploit her personal relationship with such an influential man. Maybe that was the answer to getting bac home, too.

But minutes later, she was no longer thinking about going home or exploiting Agrippa. Instead, she was staring with her hands over her mouth as two men in leather armor just several feet away on the other side of the stone barrier began to tear at each other with their short swords. Grunts of pain and animalistic rage, the sound of metal striking metal or slicing into flesh - the gladiators weren’t fighting in the middle of the arena at all. They were so close to this end of the stadium that they might as well have been putting on a show specifically for Agrippa.

It was nothing like she had imagined. Julia was no stranger to the aftermath of violence - she had done her time as a public defender, after all, as well as represented women who had been heavily abused by their husbands, but this…

Suddenly, one of the fighters struck out and cleaved straight through the other man’s neck, severing an artery and sending a fountain of blood jettisoning out in a fierce spray. Before Julia could scramble away to safety, the blood arced through the air and splashed her clothes in a crimson splatter.

Her face paled, but instead of screaming, she clamped her mouth shut and turned around to stagger back toward Agrippa. She couldn’t meet his eyes as she moved to stand behind the high back of his chair, hiding from the agonized screams of the dying man.

“Are you afraid?”

She knew he was craning his neck around to look at her, but still she avoided his eyes.

“No,” she answered. “I think some of it got in my face. I’m just wiping -”

“Acting so calm. You should be more truthful. If you’re afraid, you should say so.”

But she refused, and with an indulgent sigh, Agrippa rose from his chair and took her by the arm.”It looks like the tigress isn’t always so fierce after all,” he said. “Come. We’ll go somewhere else today.”

When she began to hear what sounded like the repeated stabbing of flesh and a renewed train of sobbing moans, her face twisted into a pained grimace. There were people cheering. The other men nearby were shaking their fists and urging the gladiator on to brutalize his enemy even more with blood thirsty cries. How could they do that? What an uncivilized, sickening, savage world -

With warm, large hands that brought her momentary relief through distraction, Agrippa covered her ears and guided her out of the stadium.