by Carol Ashby
When Marcus stepped out behind him, his head bounced back. Three quality horses stood before him with the blankets and sacks tied at the rear of their saddles while Africanus stroked the neck of a proud gray stallion.
A smile spread across the gladiator’s face. “I told you I might find something that took longer than three and a half days to get back to Rome.” The smile turned into a grin. “But I don’t think you’ll mind the extra three days.”
Marcus crossed his arms. “You spent a lot of money on these.”
“And Master Brutus will sell them for twice what I paid when we get to Rome.” Africanus shrugged.
“No wonder he trusts you to take care of business for him.” Marcus tipped his head to acknowledge Africanus’s thoughtfulness.
Aulus appeared at his side. “Let’s go eat so we can get started. The sooner we reach Rome, the sooner we find Julia.”
Aulus entered the inn ahead of him. As Marcus followed, he paused in the doorway and turned.
Africanus glanced across his shoulder and smiled. Marcus responded in kind. Even if the gladiator sometimes forgot his place, it was good to have him along.
Alsium, north of Roma, Day 43
When Aulus jerked awake, his eyes took a few moments to adjust to the darkness. The soft sound of Marcus’s breathing came from the bed above him. But between him and the stars outside the window was the large form of Africanus. The gladiator stood with arms crossed, leaning against the window frame.
Aulus slipped from his bed and joined him. “Something wrong?” He whispered so he wouldn’t awaken Marcus.
A cloud blocked the moonlight, but Africanus’s white tunic kept him from disappearing in the shadow.
“No. I like watching clouds cross the moon.” For such a big man, his whisper seemed oddly quiet.
“We’re almost back to Rome. I bet your family will be glad to see you. I’m sorry we’ve kept you away so long.”
“Sometimes I’m gone for three or four months when Master Brutus visits his Germanic estate. But it will be good to get home.”
“Does he always take you?”
“Yes, and often Rufus goes as well.”
“Traveling so much together―is that how you became his friend?”
The cloud cleared the moon, and in its pale light, Aulus could see Africanus smile.
“Friendship grows out of respect. Antonius Brutus is a man anyone would respect. Honorable to the core. Devoted husband, fair master. Brave and generous. He takes care of those he can…like helping you with your problem.”
“He respects you.” Aulus massaged his neck. “Except for Father, you deserve more respect than any man I know. Brutus is lucky to have you as a friend. I’d like to count you as one of mine, too.”
Africanus’s smile broadened. “You can.” He glanced at the sleeping Marcus. “A loyal friend―a man can’t set a price on that. But a wise man still looks closely at what his friend values. Even the most loyal friend can tell you to do something that isn’t honorable, meaning it for good but causing bad.”
Aulus’s gaze settled on Marcus. “Like staging a fake kidnapping so I wouldn’t have to tell Father the truth.” His focus returned to Africanus. “I know I should never have agreed to the scheme. I should have just told Father and faced the anger I deserved. Marcus tried to get his father to give me the money, and when he refused, what started as a joke about faking my kidnapping turned into faking Julia’s. We never thought through what could happen. But even if it had gone as planned, it would still have been wrong to lie that way.”
Africanus placed his hand on Aulus’s shoulder. “Wisdom comes from experience, and sometimes experience comes from mistakes. A good man learns to think first so he doesn’t make those mistakes again.” He slapped Aulus’s arm. “You’ll grow into a good man, Aulus Secundus.” He glanced at Marcus. “And there’s still time for Marcus Drusus to change into a good man, too.”
Marcus stirred, and Aulus crept back to his bed. It creaked when he lowered himself onto it, but Marcus’s breathing stayed steady. As he pulled the sheet back over himself, Aulus’s gaze rested on Africanus, still watching the moon.
Loyalty and honor. Some men had both in abundance, and that was the kind of man he wanted to be.
Rome
It was midafternoon when Aulus and his companions rode across the Tiber on the Pons Aemilanus to reach the marble-and-concrete center of Rome. Less than a quarter hour, and they would reach Brutus’s ludus. Then, with what they’d learned from Callidus, Brutus and Africanus could decide what to do next.
He glanced at Marcus. He was certain to have his own ideas on the best next step, but Aulus could get him to agree to the better plan. Since Africanus bought the horses, his friend had stopped the snide comments about Brutus’s favorite slave. With Brutus’s sage advice and the three of them working as a team, surely they’d find Julia, and he could finally bring her home.
“Secundus.” The voice of authority in the body of Titianus rang out behind him. As he reined his horse to face the approaching tribune, Aulus’s eyes sought Marcus. His friend read his plea and moved his own horse between them.
The tribune, in full armor with his red-plumed helmet on his head, held up his hand, and the eight soldiers stopped behind him.
“Secundus. Drusus.” Titianus nodded toward each in turn. Then his gaze measured the three horses, and his eyes narrowed. “It’s not often I see such fine horses with bridles and saddles fit for a slave.” He glanced at Africanus before focusing again on Aulus. “Far below your usual standards.”
“They belong to Antonius Brutus.” Marcus’s voice sounded relaxed. “We were just borrowing them.”
The tribune’s head cocked. “Where have you been with them?”
Marcus patted his horse’s neck. “We went down to Brutus’s wine agent in Ostia to see if the special vintage from his Liternum estate is worth its high price.”
“Is it?” Titianus’s mouth smiled, but his eyes didn’t. “My uncle, Quintus Sabinus, always serves the best. He’ll want some if it is.”
“It is, indeed.” Marcus’s fake smile looked more genuine.
As Titianus’s head tilted, his smile faded. “That would account for one, maybe two days of your absence from Rome, but not the ten days you’ve been gone. Where else have you been?”
Marcus straightened in the saddle. “Why are you wasting your time worrying about where we are and what we’re doing? You should be looking for Julia, not watching us.”
Aulus nudged his horse to join Marcus. Africanus reached over and gripped a rein. One shake of his head, and Aulus reined in.
Titianus’s head tipped back as his gaze swung from Marcus to Africanus. “Brutus’s man still with you? You’ve had more than enough time to find your own bodyguard.” He rubbed his jaw. “I haven’t seen this one with Brutus for at least ten days. He’s been going around Rome with a red-haired bodyguard instead. Highly unusual for him.”
Marcus shrugged. “You’ll have to ask Brutus why he chooses one bodyguard over another. Africanus went with us to make sure we could find the wine agent.”
Titianus’s eyes bored into Aulus, but he tried not to fidget as he returned a relaxed smile.
“I may do that.” He flicked his hand and moved off with his men following.
Marcus reined back beside Aulus, and the three continued their ride toward the Ludus Bruti.
Africanus’s gaze locked on Marcus, and Marcus returned it.
“What are you looking at?”
Africanus’s brow furrowed. “You lie easily. It almost sounds like the truth.”
“But it was the truth.” Marcus shrugged. “You did take us to Brutus’s wine agent, and these are his horses. I just didn’t tell him the rest of it. There’s no reason for him to know. It wouldn’t help him find Julia.”
Africanus drew a breath and held it before responding. “Truth has value for its own sake.”
“And it’s b
est kept to yourself if telling it could get someone hurt. Like you said, Callidus is a slave now, and Titianus would interrogate with torture. He tried to keep Julia from being kidnapped, and he doesn’t deserve that.”
“If he did, I’d agree. But I don’t believe him.”
“Well, I do, and that’s enough for all of us.” Marcus kicked his horse and moved ahead.
When Africanus tightened his lips and shook his head, Aulus’s gaze bounced between the two of them. Truth did have value in itself. Father and Africanus agreed on that, and perhaps it was time he joined them.
Ludus Bruti
The stable slave started over as soon as Aulus and his companions entered the gate, then froze with a furrowed brow.
“Our horses are with Galbius in Ostia. You can get them tomorrow.” Africanus swung his leg over his horse’s neck and slid off. “Is the master in his office?”
The stableman took his reins. “Yes, Africanus.”
Africanus led them past the cells and small arenas to Brutus’s office. When they entered the room, he stepped back against the wall and motioned them toward the two chairs in front of the desk.
With a snap, Brutus closed the wax tablet he was reading. “Was your trip successful?”
Aulus glanced at Marcus as he settled into a chair. “Mostly. We found Callidus in Luna, and he told us what happened. Her litter slave, Dacius, took her. Callidus tried to follow and get her back. He failed, but he did tell us where they disappeared, so we can start looking there.”
Brutus shifted his gaze to Africanus and raised his eyebrows.
The gladiator’s deep voice came from behind them. “Callidus only answered the questions when warned about torture, and what he did tell us was partly true, at best. He claimed her slave killed the escort and defeated him in a fight.” A soft snort punctuated his words. “Even if her bearer had killed the old man, no legionary who could fight like he did would lose to a man not trained for battle.”
He crossed his arms. “Her slave probably took her, but Callidus admitted she went willingly. So, was he kidnapper or protector?”
“Kidnapper.” Marcus leaned forward. “The other bearers said he followed her into the house, and they never came back out. He must have been one of the kidnappers.”
“But Taurus questioned that.” Aulus rubbed his lip. “He’s her regular litter escort, and he didn’t think Dacius would do anything to hurt her.”
With his elbow resting on the desk, Brutus rubbed his forehead. “Whatever his motive was doesn’t matter. What matters is whether you have enough information to start the search here in Rome.”
Aulus nodded. “We do, if we assume Callidus did chase them and try to catch them.”
Brutus’s eyes turned on Africanus again. “Your thoughts?”
“He would have chased them even if he was the kidnapper himself. She’d be worth a lot of money…a strong temptation for a man desperate enough to sell himself into the arena.” Africanus tipped his head and nodded. “But what he said about where he chased them…it might be true. It’s worth starting the hunt there.”
“So, we will assume it’s true and try to pick up their trail.” Brutus’s eyes focused on Aulus. “Is there any reason why she might be afraid to go home if her slave was only protecting her?”
Aulus sucked air between his teeth and looked at Marcus. “Dacius was bought to train my stallion. Marcus and I discussed the plan once when we thought no one was in the stable. If he was in one of the stalls…”
“And if he told her, they’d have good reason to be hiding until your father comes home.” Brutus picked up a stylus and tapped the desk with it. “But you can set that straight when you find her, and if she’s with him, she should be safe until you do.”
He stood. “We’ll keep checking the special dealers in case she shows up there, and tomorrow you three will start looking for someone who might know where they went.”
“Something you should know.” Africanus’s words drew Brutus’s instant attention. “Tribune Titianus of the Urban Cohort stopped us and asked where we’d been for ten days. He questioned why I hadn’t been guarding you. He might come here.”
“If he comes, I’ll tell him the truth.” Brutus shrugged. “I’ve lent you to Aulus until the matter of Julia’s disappearance is resolved. You’ve been told to help in any way possible. That should satisfy him.”
Brutus stepped past his desk and placed one hand on Aulus’s shoulder and the other on Marcus. “Go home. Get a good night’s rest, and come back early. Tomorrow you hunt, and when you find Julia, we’ll celebrate.”
Marcus left the office and headed down the hallway, but Aulus paused at the door. Brutus and Africanus were seated opposite each other at the desk, and Brutus was filling two silver goblets from a small, cream-colored jug.
Aulus’s lips curved into a smile. If anyone deserved Brutus’s best vintage, it was the man any Roman should be proud to call friend.
Chapter 55: Too Hard to Bear
Gaius’s farm, evening of Day 44
Leander poured the last bucket of water into the mules’ trough and hung it on the gatepost. When he turned, Calantha waited for him, elbow on the table, chin in her hand. For the last week, she’d insisted they watch the setting sun before retiring.
He wasn’t sorry. The chirps of the crickets, the whisper of a gentle breeze stirring the carob leaves overhead―that was almost as enjoyable as the faint scent of roses from the perfumed oil that Calantha and Marcella had made together.
He breathed deep when she sat close, and with his eyes closed, he could once more see his mother’s back as she gathered some blooms in her rose garden. But every time his mother turned, it was Calantha’s teasing eyes that met his.
Calantha always worked a little rose oil into her hair when she let it down. It hung halfway down her back. Too long to comb herself, so Marcella helped her.
Marcella’s hair was just as long, but Calantha didn’t help her brush it. Gaius reserved that privilege for himself, and love flowed between them with each stroke. She’d tease him about pulling it, and he’d insist she needed a kiss to make up for that.
Calantha would laugh, and then she’d cast a glance his way, and that slow smile would curve her lips, and…then he had to look away before she could see her kind affection trigger his regret that the dreams of a slave remained only that…dreams.
Tonight, she patted the bench beside her, and he had just seated himself when Publius crested the hill.
Publius kept his mule at a trot and reined in beside them. “Lucillia sent me. Petronia’s baby is coming early, and her mother won’t be here for almost a week. She said I should fetch Calantha to help right away. Lucillia can take care of the delivery, but she needs to get back to the taberna soon. The little ones need someone to watch them, and Petronia could use a woman’s help until her mother comes.”
Calantha rose. “I’d love to help. I’ll get a few things from the house, and we can go right now.”
As she hurried toward the house, Publius slid off his mule. “I’ll help you hitch the team and show you the way to their farm.” He looked to the east and smiled. “Clear sky and the moon is rising, so we’ll have plenty of light. A moonlight drive with a pretty young woman…I would have enjoyed that at your age.”
“It’s not that way with us.”
Speaking that truth pricked his heart. But life was what it was. He was Dacius the slave, not Leander the free man. It was only play-acting, and the play would end when he took her home.
Publius’s smile broadened. “Maybe not now, but things can change.” The smile grew into a grin. “Lucillia likes delivering babies. Maybe soon she can deliver yours.”
Marcella’s farewell reached Leander’s ears, and he turned to see Calantha hurrying toward them with something draped over her arm. Part looked like Marcella’s cloak but the other…
She reached him. “Here.” She offered what she’d been weaving since the d
ay after she chose her false name and renamed him. “I made it to keep you warm.”
He took it, then stood staring at it as he stroked the soft fabric. He opened his mouth, but the words didn’t come.
That triggered her soft laugh. “This is the second time I’ve seen you at a loss for words. But maybe you’ll have figured out what to say by the time I finish the tunic I’m making you.”
“You should wear this. I won’t feel the cold.” Not with her sitting so close beside him.
“But I made it for you, and I want the pleasure of seeing you wear it. I have Marcella’s.”
“If you find pleasure in something, then I’ll do it.” He stroked the soft wool.
So many hours, so many days she’d put into making it…for him. But that could only be her way of thanking him one more time.
The music of her laughter drew his smile. “I won’t forget my lion made that promise, and I’ll hold you to it.”
She lifted it from his hands and shook it open. Stepping close, she reached around his neck to catch one corner of it. Then she drew it around his shoulders and pinned it with one of the gold pins from the shoulder of her fancy tunic. When she patted the pin where it rested on his good shoulder, she left her other hand resting on his chest.
“It looks good on my lion.”
Her hand―it was right above his heart. Surely, she must feel his heart rate rising beneath it. “Thank you. It does feel warm.”
He stepped back. “Babies don’t wait. Time to leave.” He lifted her into the wagon, climbed aboard himself, and slapped the mules with the reins. The wagon jerked, and he followed Publius out of the farm yard.
He looked at Calantha so close beside him, and her excited smile lit her eyes as she returned his gaze.
Publius, Sextus, the women…they all expected a future he knew would never come.
It was not that way with them, and it never could be.
He turned his face away. What could he say if she asked about the heartache behind his smile?