Page 2 of Thawed Gladiator: Cassius (Awakened From the Ice #3)

Chapter Two

D iana

The sprawling compound looms ahead, a clash of construction equipment next to an amazing old house complete with two turrets and a wraparound porch. My beat-up Chevy rumbles down the long gravel driveway, kicking up dust that swirls in my rearview mirror. With each bump and jostle, my stomach does somersaults—partly from nerves, partly from the potholes I’m too anxious to dodge properly.

This is it. My shot at… well, everything.

As I park near the old farmhouse, my gaze darts around, taking in every detail. To my left, a massive structure is under the final stages of construction. It must be a barracks. The sounds of power tools and shouted instructions fill the air. To my right, a corral stands empty, waiting. And there, just beyond, is a beautiful red barn that makes my heart skip a beat.

No horses yet. But soon, maybe?

Taking a deep breath, I smooth my blouse—the nicest one I own, bought secondhand but carefully pressed this morning. My fingers brush against the scar on my lip, a habit I can’t seem to break. Quickly, I drop my hand. No use drawing attention to it.

“You’ve got this, Diana,” I mutter, giving myself a quick pep talk in the rearview mirror. The face that stares back is familiar, filled with imperfections—hazel eyes too wide because of my growing anxiety, skin pale despite my best efforts with makeup. My broken nose, never set properly, seems more prominent than ever.

Shaking off my doubts, I step out of the car. The gravel crunches under my feet as I make my way to the farmhouse door. Each step feels monumental. This isn’t just a job interview—it’s a lifeline. A chance to leave behind double shifts at the Waffle House, the constant struggle to make rent, and the lingering shame of my past.

And the gladiators? The thought sends excitement flashing through me. Ancient warriors, transported to the future. It sounds like something out of a sci-fi novel. Part of me is terrified. But another part? Thrilled at the possibility of meeting them, of coming face to face with pieces of the past that have come alive like characters stepping out of a storybook.

Before I can second-guess myself, I knock on the door. It swings open almost immediately, revealing a blonde woman with kind eyes and an air of quiet authority. “Diana?” she asks, smiling. “I’m Laura. Welcome to Second Chance. Come in.”

The farmhouse interior is cozy, all warm woods and earth-tone fabrics. As Laura leads me to a small office, I notice the decorating scheme, if you can call it that. Modern tech mixes with antique furniture and books stacked everywhere. It’s an odd combination, but somehow it seems comfy, inviting.

“Have a seat,” Laura says, gesturing to a comfortable-looking chair in an office off the main foyer. Although there are pocket doors, she leaves them open as she ushers me into the welcoming space. “Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?”

“Water would be great, thanks.” My voice just wavered. But maybe she didn’t notice it.

As Laura goes to the kitchen for water, I take a moment to collect myself. You can do this, Diana. Just be honest. Show her what you can bring to the table.

“So.” Laura hands me a glass of ice water and, rather than pulling a power move and sitting behind her desk, she settles into a nearby chair. I like her already.

“Tell me about yourself, Diana. Why did you answer our ad?”

Taking a sip to buy time, I consider my words carefully. “Well, I’ve always loved horses. They’ve been… a constant for me, I guess. Even when everything else was chaos.”

Laura nods encouragingly, and suddenly the words come tumbling out. Why should I lie? I imagine she already did a background check on me. After all, these gladiators are the biggest news story of the century. If she researched me, she probably knows more about me than my parents do. I might as well put my own spin on what she’s already read.

“I grew up in the foster system. Bounced around a lot. But when I was fourteen, I ended up in a group home that had this amazing equine therapy program. It was such a lucky break. It changed everything for me.” I pause as I remember how it opened a whole new world. I’m still grateful I got picked for that program.

As I speak, memories flood back. The first time I touched a horse’s velvety nose. The sense of peace that washed over me when I learned to groom their coats and braid their manes. The pride I felt when I mastered the art of keeping my seat through a trot and then a gallop.

“After I aged out of the system, I got a job with a therapeutic riding program,” I continue. “It was incredible, watching as the horses helped kids like me. I worked my way up from a grunt, doing little more than grooming horses and shoveling manure, to working directly with our clients. But then…” I swallow hard. “The funding got cut. I’ve been waiting tables at the Waffle House in town, but…”

“But it’s not where your heart is,” Laura finishes softly.

“Exactly.” Relief washes over me. She gets it.

Laura leans forward, her expression thoughtful. “Diana, I’ll be honest. This job won’t be easy. We’re dealing with a unique situation here, as I’m sure you’ve heard. Our… residents… have special needs. It will take patience, understanding, and a lot of hard work.”

Laura’s eyes take on a distant look, as if gazing beyond the walls of her cozy office. “Over a year ago, I started an expedition, just looking for artifacts—pieces of history to study and preserve.” She pauses a moment, and it looks as though she’s making up her mind about something. Perhaps because I laid my cards on the table, she’s decided to share a bit of herself with me.

“And yeah, I’ll admit, I wanted the world to know I’d found the wreck of the Fortuna . It had gone undiscovered for almost two thousand years. Most people chalked it up to myth rather than fact. But through years of research, learning to read and speak Latin, and earning a Master’s degree in archaeology, against all odds, I found it.”

Her chin lifts as a small smile spreads over her face. She’s proud of her accomplishments. I don’t blame her.

“Imagine how shocking it was when I discovered not just artifacts, but living, breathing people who’d been frozen beneath the Norwegian Sea for all those years.” She shakes her head as though she’s still astonished, although she has living proof.

“They’ve been medically thawed overseas and are now here in the compound we’ve created to keep them safe while they acclimate to a new world. I feel a tremendous responsibility to them. These men have lost everything they’ve ever known. They need more than just a place to stay—they need a purpose, a chance to build new lives, and all the support we can throw at them.”

She leans forward, her gaze intense. “That’s why this compound in rural Missouri is so important. It’s not just about preserving history. It’s about helping these men find their place in our world, about giving them a future.”

Her gaze travels to the big picture window, and beyond.

“Varro, the first to be revived, and the man I love, lives in this old farmhouse with me. We’ve built the barracks you passed as you drove in. There is a large dining hall, schoolrooms, and room to sprawl when we decide what other projects we want to take on.”

Now she looks at me, her gaze piercing through me as though she’s known me for a long time. “And that’s where you come in, Diana. Your work with the horses could be exactly what some of these men need so they can heal and adjust.”

I nod, letting the full weight of her words sink in. This isn’t just a job—it’s a mission, a chance to be part of something truly extraordinary. Thinking about how much equine therapy helped me, I can only imagine how powerful it could be for these men who have so little to ground them.

“I understand, Ms. Turner. I’m not afraid of hard work. And as for patience? Well, I’ve spent the last six months dealing with truckers who think 3 AM is the perfect time to critique my coffee-pouring technique. I think after that I can tolerate just about anything.”

Laura laughs, a warm, genuine sound that puts me more at ease. “Fair point. But before we go any further, I think you should understand exactly what you’re getting into here. There’s been a lot of misinformation floating around and to be honest, we haven’t tried to correct the speculation. Let me give you the full story from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.”

As I laugh at her lame joke, my heart races as I nod, eager to hear the truth without the filter of Internet misinformation. The gossip I’ve found has been wild, to say the least.

“I told you how we found the gladiators off the coast of Norway. They were thawed and brought back to life in a Swiss facility, but I thought they would be better off in a private sanctuary here in the States. Here, we can pretty much keep them out of the public eye until they’re more comfortable with their… circumstances.”

Her gaze flicks to a photo on her credenza. It’s of her and Varro. I’ve crawled through the Internet enough to know him on sight. He’s the only gladiator whose picture has been released to the public.

“We have fourteen men here,” Laura continues. “Most are still in a state of shock, trying to adapt to a world that’s utterly foreign to them. It’s not just the technology that’s overwhelming—it’s everything. Imagine the time they came from—no electricity, no plastic, nothing was made by machines. Hell, they didn’t know the earth was round, didn’t have soap; they thought their pantheon of gods managed the weather. We’ve come a long way, especially in how we treat each other.”

I nod, imagining how terrifying it must be to have everything you’ve ever believed disproved right before your eyes.

“How do you communicate with them?”

Laura taps her ear. “We’ve developed a real-time translation device. Because of my studies and all the Latin texts I read tracking down the Fortuna , I’m fluent in Latin. But you’ll need to wear one at all times when interacting with the gladiators. It’s not perfect, but it works, and Skye, Thrax’s partner, is constantly improving the software.”

She leans forward, her expression earnest. “Diana, in full disclosure, you need to know that these men may sometimes act in ways that seem… inappropriate by our standards. They don’t know our social norms. They might stare, or stand too close, or say things that sound offensive. It’s not out of malice—they’re learning, but it’s a slow process.”

“I understand.” My mind is already whirling with the implications. “I’ve worked with people from all walks of life and ability levels. I know how to be patient.”

She smiles approvingly. “That’s exactly the attitude we need. Now, about the horses, you’ll have to tell me how many we’ll n—”

“Wait,” I interrupt, my heart pounding. “Does this mean… do I have the job?” Am I reading too much into this? Have I overstepped? It couldn’t be this easy, right?

Laura’s smile widens. “Yes, Diana. If you want it, the position is yours. I think you’ll be a perfect fit for our unique situation here.”

I’d figured landing this job was a longshot, so for a moment, I’m speechless. Then a grin spreads across my face. “Yes! Absolutely, yes. Thank you so much, Ms. Turner. I won’t let you down.”

“I’m sure you won’t,” Laura says warmly, “and call me Laura. There will be non-disclosure agreements to sign. As you know, the world is interested in everything about these men, from their measurements to what toothpaste they use.”

I put up my hand as I shake my head. “Wait, please.” I place my hand on my chest as I try to gather my racing thoughts. “I haven’t quite caught up with the news that I just landed my dream job.”

She smiles and takes a sip of her coffee while I calm my racing thoughts.

“Okay, Laura. Full speed ahead.” Now that I’m thinking clearly, I’m totally embarrassed.

“You’re going to do well here, Diana. It’s that type of enthusiasm I was hoping for.”

She launches into explaining how easy it would be to exploit these men with a little “harmless” interview with a gossip magazine, how it would erode the trust and privacy that these men desperately need.

“I understand.”

“And to underscore how serious this is, Diana, I’ll tell you that one of our men was kidnapped before we left Switzerland to come to the States.”

My mouth drops open in surprise. They’ve managed to keep this news top secret. There wasn’t even a whisper about it on the Internet.

“Victor was stolen out of our hospital facility under our noses by our head of security. We’ve got private security teams searching for him and Interpol is on it, but the trail is cold.”

She pauses, perhaps to let me imagine how horrible it would be to wake up two thousand years in the future in the hands of criminals who want to use you—maybe worse.

“That’s awful.”

“Yes, we’re all broken up about it. The news is, of course, top secret. I tell you so you know just how much is at stake here.”

As I let this information sink in, she steps out for a moment, brings a plate of home-baked cookies, and sets them next to me.

“Now that you know what you’ll be dealing with, what kind of program would you envision here?”

As I launch into my ideas—a mix of therapeutic riding techniques and more traditional horsemanship—I feel the last of my nerves melting away. This is what I know. This is where I shine.

“…and of course, we’ll need to start with the right horses,” I finish, realizing I’ve been talking for several minutes straight. “Sorry, I got a bit carried away there.”

“Don’t apologize,” Laura says, her eyes twinkling. “Passion is exactly what we’re looking for. In fact, I’d like you to help choose our first two horses. We have connections with some excellent breeders, but I want someone who knows what we need for this program.”

For a moment, I’m speechless. Choose the horses? It’s like every dream I’ve ever had is suddenly within reach. “I… yes. Absolutely. I’d be honored. Just let me know the budget.” Budget, goodness knows I hate that word; it rules my world.

“The Fortuna wasn’t just carrying human cargo, Diana. It had two large chests of gold. We’re not strapped for cash.”

For a moment, my mind spins with pictures of expensive horseflesh, but I immediately come back to Earth. “We don’t need costly horses. In fact, just the opposite will be better. A little older, a little calmer, a little slower—that’s what we need for therapy horses.”

Laura smiles. “See? I knew you’d fit right in. Substance is always more important than looks, right?”

Is she referring to my nose? My lips? It takes all my self-control not to touch my mouth to hide the scar that slashes from above my top lip through the bottom one. One look at her, though, with her compassionate brown eyes, reassures me there was no hidden meaning in her statement.

She stands and extends her hand. “Welcome aboard, Diana. I think you’re going to fit in just fine here.”

As I shake her hand, a wave of emotion washes over me. This is it. A new beginning. Not just a job, but a chance to make a difference, to be part of something bigger than myself.

Walking out of the farmhouse, I take a deep breath of the clean Missouri air. The empty corral no longer looks lonely—instead, it’s full of possibility. I can almost see the horses grazing and hear the sound of hooves stomping on soft earth.

This is my chance to make a difference. And I’m going to give it everything I’ve got.