Gladiatrix, by Russell Whitfield.
Lysandra is, or was, a mission Priestess of Athena from the fallen city-state of Sparta, in the reign of Domitian in the Roman Empire. Now, after a shipwreck, she is not only a slave, but is being trained as a female gladiator. Thus, she embodies eponymous title of the novel, along with a group of other women also condemned to the same fate.
Gladiatrix shows us her story, starting in medias res, revealing how she was captured, and follows her story as she rises in the stable, develops relationships with her fellow gladiatrices, and finally has a knock down, drag out final combat with her greatest rival, after the love of her life dies.
On the surface, the novel is well paced, exciting, the clash of blades, the savagery and power of life in the Roman world on display and seen through the eyes of an outsider who is now the lowest of the low. Casual readers will likely enjoy it for exactly those reasons.
For me, however, I found it wanting. I know too much.
I may not be a Classical scholar (and the author doesn't profess to be one either, just an interested amateur), but I found the novel and the heroine's actions and life highly improbable and worse, "written to cinema". Some of the pattern of the story follows, to an extent, part of the arc of the movie Gladiator, and not to its credit. I just couldn't buy, even with the fig leaf of an Athene priest hired and brought in to convince Lysandra, that a female spartan would ever, in the end, accept her fate enough to actually embrace her role as a gladiatrix. It broke the character that had been building--even if, I recognize, it was the only way to get the story forward. I think that the author simply wanted a female Spartan gladiator, even if large implausibilities were the only way to get there.
An additional cinematic and not-very-realistic addition in the plot is the love affair between Lysandra and Eirinawen. I never really bought it as more than the author wishing for Lysandra to have a homoerotic relationship with one of her fellow gladiatrices. It never felt natural to me to her character, or Eirinawen's, for that matter. Now, the consequences of the pursuit of that relationship, as it ties into Lysandra's rival Sorina, that I admit was handled much better. But I never really bought the creation of the relationship in the first place.
I almost wish that Whitfield had decided to write this novel in an invented world of his own. Perhaps with the freedom to make a Roman-like, rather than a strictly Roman Empire world, I would have been far more forgiving of the implausibilities of the characters and simply went along for the ride. As it was, I was in the end, underwhelmed.