by Carol Ashby
Still bent at the waist, the boy scurried from the room.
Marcus’s mouth curved into a satisfied smile. “I knew Brutus would be able to find her.”
“I hope you’re right. But wouldn’t he have said if he had?”
Marcus’s eyebrows lowered. “Well, yes, but he must at least have a lead for us to follow. That’s a good start.” He slapped Aulus’s arm. “The sooner we get to Ludus Bruti, the sooner we find her and bring her home.”
With Marcus striding before him, Aulus headed toward the stable. Bring good horses? A strange instruction if Julia was in Rome. And if she wasn’t, where could she be?
Ludus Bruti
When Aulus and Marcus rode through the gate into the stable yard at the ludus, two quality horses stood saddled and waiting. Big horses, ready to carry big men.
A slave scurried over to take Aulus’s mare as he slid off. “Master Brutus is waiting for you in his office.”
Marcus walked at his side as they passed through narrow hallways lined with cells and training areas to reach Brutus’s office.
When they entered, Brutus looked up from a wax tablet that lay open on his desk. His hand swept toward the two chairs that sat opposite his own. “Take a seat, boys.”
Aulus scooted to the front of the chair as soon as his seat hit the wood. “Did you find her?”
Brutus’s smiling frown was more smile than frown. “Perhaps.”
Aulus leaned closer. “Perhaps? Either you did or you didn’t.”
“I might have found where she was, and I have an idea where she might be if I’m right.”
“Where?”
Brutus closed the tablet and leaned back in his chair. “Remember I told you there were private dealers who handled special slaves at special prices? Some are scrupulously honest, and some are not. I did some shopping yesterday at some I suspect of occasionally accepting forged papers for unusual slaves.”
Brutus looked past Aulus toward the door. “Come in.”
Aulus turned to see Africanus and Rufus, another of Brutus’s top fighters, enter and take positions against the wall.
“I was shopping for a pretty young woman educated to be able to converse with equestrians and senators on many topics and with manners that would make her suitable as a companion at a formal banquet. I found one.”
Aulus could scarcely stay seated. “Was it her?”
“I don’t know. The dealer said those were very hard to find, and he’d just sold the only one he had the day before.”
Aulus’s shoulders slumped; then he straightened. “But we can get her from whoever bought her.”
“Perhaps. At first, he didn’t want to tell me who that was, but I offered him a pass to join my fighters at the next dinner I hold the night before the games.” The corner of his mouth lifted and ended in a wry smile. “Those are coveted by many more than I usually allow to attend, and he leaped at the chance to dine and talk with my men before their day on the sand.”
A deep breath was followed by Aulus’s huge sigh of relief. “Let’s go get her.”
Brutus leaned forward. He rested an elbow on the desk and rubbed his lips. “The problem is the man who bought her.”
Marcus inhaled sharply beside Aulus. “Too politically well connected? Or too low class but wealthy enough to want that kind of woman?”
“More the latter. His name is Claudius Ursus. His father was an imperial freedman who amassed a fortune after Emperor Claudius freed him. Ursus has at least doubled that fortune, and he has no qualms about how he spends it.”
“So, what do we do?” Aulus hovered between relief and worry.
“You and Marcus will go to see if it’s Julia, and if so, you’ll ask him to release her.”
“Where is he? We’ll go right now.”
Brutus cradled his chin, his hand over his mouth. When he pulled it aside, he was frowning. “The dealer said she was loaded into a raeda and taken south to Ursus’s villa. It’s on the coast, about two miles west of Ardeo.”
Aulus stood. “That’s not too far. If we leave now, we can get there before nightfall. He’ll have to release her when he knows who she is.”
Brutus’s frown shifted toward a smile. “I knew you’d be eager, but you underestimate the man. He’s not to be trusted, and I’m not sending you there without some protection. Africanus and Rufus will go as your bodyguards.” He smiled at Africanus, who returned a nod. “Africanus will also guide you in how to deal with him if your reasonable request is denied.”
Brutus stood. “I’ve had my cook pack rolls, cheese, and fruit for your meals so you won’t have to stop before Ardeo. Spend the night there, and go to see Ursus tomorrow morning.”
He tossed a purse to Africanus. “Take care of the local arrangements.”
Africanus snatched the purse from the air and nodded.
Brutus came around the desk and rested one hand on Aulus’s and Marcus’s shoulders. “May Fortuna smile on your journey and bring your sister home safely with you.”
Rufus and Africanus left the room, with Africanus pausing in the doorway. “Let’s go.”
Brutus flicked his hand toward the door, and Aulus and Marcus followed the gladiators to the stable yard.
When Aulus took the reins and prepared to mount his mare, Africanus approached. “We have a long way to ride before nightfall.” His voice was deep and unexpectedly quiet for such a big man. His eyes scanned Marcus’s stallion and lingered on Aulus’s mare. “You ride her long distances?”
“No. Mostly a few miles to Marcus’s townhouse and some other friends’ estates around Rome.”
A frown barely formed before Africanus straightened his mouth. He pointed to one of the waiting horses. “You’ll take mine.”
A flick of his hand summoned the stable slave. “Saddle the master’s stallion for me.” He walked away to exchange soft words with Rufus that Aulus couldn’t catch.
Marcus came to his side. “Amazing. No slave of mine would presume to take my horse without asking.”
Aulus shrugged. “No one seems surprised, so Brutus must not mind.”
As soon as Brutus’s solid black stallion was saddled, they all mounted. Africanus rode first through the gate. He led them past the Amphitheater and the end of the Circus Maximus to pass through the city wall at the Porta Naevia.
He reined in just past the gate. “It’s about twenty-four milia passuum to Ardeo down the Via Ardeotina. We’ll stop half way to rest the horses a while.”
Before Aulus could respond, the big Nubian kicked Brutus’s horse into a trot and headed south.
Aulus followed, and the feeling of a stallion’s power between his legs drew a smile. The black stallion he’d bought three weeks earlier would someday give him the same pleasure as this animal…if someone ever finished gentling it.
He hadn’t seen the stable slave who was making good progress with that for several days. Vilicus must have him working somewhere else. But after Julia was safely back home, he’d tell the overseer to leave that slave in the stable until the stallion was tamed enough for him to ride. What good was it having a slave who was skilled with horses if he never did the job for which he’d been bought?
Ardeo, south of Rome
It was late afternoon when Aulus and his party rode into Ardeo. It was barely more than a village, much smaller than Aulus expected. Africanus reined in and scanned the small shops that lined the road.
Aulus rode up beside him. “How do we find Ursus’s villa?”
Africanus swung his leg across his horse’s neck and slid off. “Leave that to me.”
He handed his reins to Rufus and strolled over to the nearest shop. Aulus couldn’t hear his words, but whatever Africanus asked, it made the man nervous. Africanus moved from shop to shop, and at each, the shopkeeper looked like he wished he hadn’t been questioned.
There were some children playing with a ball in a grassy area across a low stone wall. Africanus vaulted the wal
l and approached them, his movements relaxed and his lips smiling.
He crouched down beside a small girl who stood watching the older boys toss the ball. “Is one your brother?”
His voice carried a fatherly warmth with it. Not what Aulus expected from one of Brutus's best fighters.
She nodded and pointed to the biggest one.
“He’s good with the ball. Has he taught you?”
She nodded. “He says I’m too little when he plays with his friends, but when it’s just us…” She shrugged.
“You might not be as big, but I bet you watch things better. I bet you see things he doesn’t even notice.”
She smiled as her head bobbed up and down.
“We’re trying to catch up with someone who drove a carriage through here yesterday. Did you see them?”
She tipped her head as the smile faded.
“I’m looking for a friend who might have been in that carriage. Did you see anyone inside it?”
“Maybe.” She shifted her feet.
“Maybe is good. Tell me what you saw, and maybe I can tell you if it’s her.”
“Her?”
“Yes. A young woman, maybe three times as old as you. She’s pretty like you, and very nice.”
The smile disappeared from her lips, and she dropped her eyes to look at the ground.
“She’s the daughter of a friend, and he’s sick with worry that something bad might have happened to her. Did you maybe see her?”
Her eyes turned up, and she bit her lip.
“Your father would feel sick if you’d gone away and he couldn’t find you. He’d be afraid you were in trouble and needed his help. Can you help me find her? She might be hurt and need help really bad.”
“I did see someone. In the big carriage from the villa west of here. She leaned out the window and asked for help. But a man covered her mouth and pulled her back in. Then the curtain dropped, and I couldn’t see her anymore.”
Africanus’s eyes warmed as his smile returned. “That’s her. She’ll be so grateful to know that you told me so I can help her get home to her father.” His index finger pressed against his lips. “But let’s keep it a secret between you and me, what you just told me. Secret friends who help each other are the best kind.”
Her shy smile and quick nod broadened his smile.
“Is there an inn where we can stable our horses and find a good dinner tonight?”
She pointed down the street.
Africanus stood. “Thank you for my friend and for her. I’ll tell her you’re her secret friend now.”
A bright smile, and the girl turned back to watch the boys.
Africanus vaulted the wall and took his reins from Rufus. A quick jump, and he threw his leg across the stallion’s rump to land in the saddle.
When he nudged the horse into a walk and headed for the inn, Aulus rode up beside him. “Why aren’t we going to get Julia?”
“It’s not the right time.”
Marcus nudged his horse to come up on the other side of Africanus. “Of course it’s the right time. Why would we wait?”
Africanus looked at Marcus but turned his face toward Aulus before answering. “We wouldn’t be allowed close enough to the villa to see anything this late, let alone to do anything. We’ll go in the morning during the salutation time. As the son of an ex-consul, you’ll request an audience with Ursus. Your family name will be recognized instantly, and you’ll be granted admittance.”
“But we know she’s there now.” Aulus’s breaths came faster. “What if he does something to Julia tonight?”
Africanus rested his hand on Aulus’s shoulder. “I understand men like this one. Nothing will happen tonight that didn’t happen already. Tomorrow we won’t just find her. We’ll take her home.”
As much as Aulus hated to wait, the calm certainty in the gladiator’s eyes persuaded him. He drew a deep breath, and as he slowly released it, he could see the wisdom in Africanus’s plan.
Tomorrow they would find Julia, and then he would bring her home.
Chapter 33: Life Was Good
Gaius’s Farm, Day 23
It was mid-morning, and Leander’s eyes kept drifting to Mistress Calantha as she worked at the big loom. Tying the warp yarns to the hanging weights, weaving the shuttle back and forth through them, tapping the yarn with a comb to push it up against the last strand to make the fabric―there was something both fascinating and soothing about the way her hands moved. When his mother and Ariana worked at the loom, he’d loved watching when he was a child.
His lips tightened. That had been so long ago, and he’d forgotten so much. But sometimes memories of what had been lost hurt too much to hold onto them.
Then, as if she felt his eyes upon her, she turned, and her smile lit the room. She placed the shuttle on the small shelf at the top of the loom and came to the bedside. He shifted to make more room, and she sat beside him.
“You look like something’s hurting. Can I get you anything?”
He forced a smile. “No, but thank you.”
“Are you feeling better today?”
“Yes, mistress. Much better.”
Her eyebrows arched. “Be more careful what you say. Don’t forget I’m Calantha now, and you’re Leander.” Her eyes warmed. “What’s my name?”
“Calantha.” It was becoming too easy to say it.
“That’s right. And you are…”
“Leander.”
She pushed his hair back from his forehead. “Tawny like a lion, but I wouldn’t dare do this if you really were one.”
His lips twitched, and then a real smile leaked out. She could charm a lion into letting her pet it like a house cat.
She rose and pulled up the blanket to cover his chest. After running her fingers through his hair one more time, she returned to the loom.
The mistress started humming, and he closed his eyes. As the music wrapped around him, he drifted off to sleep.
When Marcella came into the cottage carrying a bucket of water, Calantha placed the shuttle on the shelf and joined her at the counter.
“I never spent any time in our kitchen. I know almost nothing about cooking, but may I help?”
As Marcella poured some water into a large bowl, the corners of her mouth curved. “My girls loved watching when they were little. When they got big enough to help, they weren’t quite as eager to keep me company.”
She picked up the pot she’d filled with lentils and water at lunch time. “While I drain and rinse these, you can wash the carrots.”
When Marcella returned, Calantha had the purple carrots cleaned and lined up on the countertop. Marcella lifted a cutting board from a peg on the wall. Then she took a carrot and cut a few slices. “For the stew, this is the way you want to cut them.”
Calantha looked over her shoulder at Leander. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and regular.
“It’s a good thing he’s sleeping.” She silenced the chuckle that wanted to escape. “What he doesn’t see, he can’t tell me his mistress shouldn’t be doing for him.”
Marcella’s smile broadened. “Sometimes it’s better if my man doesn’t know what I’m doing, too.”
She handed her knife to Calantha and took another from the rack on the wall. “I’m glad you want to help. Many hands make for light labor.”
“I’d love to help and learn all I can. If I’m pretending to be Calantha, I need to know how.”
Marcella slipped her arm around Calantha’s shoulders and gave her a quick hug. “And I’ll enjoy every moment of teaching you.”
As they worked together, their knives tapped out a rhythm against the cutting board. It was like music washing over Calantha. It was almost a month until Father would come back from Sicilia and she could return to Rome, but every day with Marcella made this cottage feel more like home.
It was early evening and almost time to eat. As Leander watched Marcella and Mistress Cala
ntha getting the supper ready to serve, memories kept floating up from where he’d left them long ago. Memories of his mother’s gentle instructions and Ariana’s laughter when she tried something for the first time and it didn’t turn out as she’d hoped.
Sweet memories of the happy times before the legions came and everything he’d known was destroyed. When everyone he’d loved was killed or dragged off to fates maybe worse than death.
So many times, he’d asked God why, and he never got an answer. But even though the questions remained, God’s warm presence never faded. God was there in the dark hold of the slave ship that carried Leander to Rome. He was there at the auction where Leander was bought by the Crassus estate. God was there through the years of working with the Crassus horses, when being a slave had let him do what he loved most and he could almost feel free.
An even though he never would have prayed for any of what had happened the past three weeks, God’s hand was still upon him.
His gaze settled on Mistress Calantha’s beaming smile as Marcella wrapped her arm around the mistress’s shoulders and hugged her.
Thank you, Lord, for putting me where I could save her from Ariana’s fate.
Gaius came through the door and straight to his bedside. “You’re looking much better. Ready to join us at the table tonight?”
“More than ready.”
Marcella joined her husband. “But first I need to rig a sling for that arm. It’s too soon for you to be using it.”
She disappeared down the hallway and returned with a folded piece of fabric. Gaius helped him sit up, and Marcella draped it around his neck and tied a knot. Then she slipped his arm into the loop. “How’s that?”
“Just right.”
She patted his good shoulder. “Please bring our young man to the table, Gaius.”
Leander stood, and with Gaius as his crutch, he hobbled over and sank into a chair.
Mistress Calantha brought the blanket from the bed and folded it in half before wrapping it around his shoulders. “We don’t want you getting cold.”