“You are familiar with me and more observant than most, I am coming to understand.”
I shoveled stew into my mouth and washed it down with wine.This was a smoother vintage than what we’d drunk before—Cassia was putting Priscus’s coins to good use.
“I’m a gladiator.”I tapped my knuckles to my head.“Nothing in here.”
“You are a gladiator who won thirty fights with eight draws and only two losses.I have seen the notices on the streets.You must be a very observant man, and a quick thinker, to do that.”
I won because I’d trained unceasingly for my bouts, but it was true I never knew what would happen in the amphitheatre.I had to react to the smallest moves my opponent made—or decide not to react.I let my instincts rule, but instinct wasn’t always correct and had to be tempered with experience.
“Winning a match is not the same thing as living everyday life,” I said.
“It can be.”Cassia traced the glazed pattern on her wine cup.“I’m sorry Lucia had to leave.I know you are fond of her.”
I shrugged.I liked Lucia, but I had no illusion about who she was or how many other men she pleasured.“She is not my paramour, as you declared.Will she be truly well in this house you sent her to?”
“Indeed, yes.My mistress stayed there several times when she traveled between Campania and Rome, and I came to know it well.Thedomusis run by priestesses of Ceres, and no man may darken its door.Lucia might have to work for her keep, but they will keep danger away.”
Did I see a glint of satisfaction in her eyes when she mentioned Lucia would have to work?I wondered if, when Lucia was told she’d have to scrub floors or haul water, she’d stay.Even Floriana’s brothel had employed slaves to do the menial tasks for them.
“Who was your mistress?”I asked in curiosity.Cassia knew much about me—most of my career as a gladiator covered the walls in Rome for all to see—but I knew so little about her.
“Glaucia Rufinus.”Cassia waited for my reaction, but I’d never heard of the woman.“Her husband, Gaius Petinus, was a consul some years back, very wealthy.He moved to a villa in Campania after his consulship to raise grapes.The villa is beautiful, with a view of the sea.”
“You father was this Petinus’s scribe?”
“Scribe, secretary, accountant.”As before when she’d spoken of her father, Cassia’s voice went sad, and she quickly bent to her food.
“I am sorry.”I laid down my spoon and wiped my mouth on the napkin she’d provided.“I had a friend called Xerxes.I never had a brother, but it was like that.He was killed in the games.”
Cassia looked up, lips parted.“Oh.”
“It was very hard to live after that,” I finished.
“Yes.”The word was soft.“My life changed when my father died.I never realized how much he protected me.”
“They sold you?”
Cassia’s eyes flickered.“My mistress did.She had me brought to the slave market here in Rome.Hesiodos purchased me.I thought I would be working for him, assisting him in his scribal duties, but then he said I’d suit you.I still don’t understand why.”
I imagined Cassia, afraid and alone, standing in the slave market, a sign around her neck proclaiming what she did.They might have let her wear a stolla, or she might have been only in a loincloth, or naked, so those who shopped for a new servant would have a look at what they were getting.
My anger stirred at her former mistress, at the slave traders, and even at her father for dying and leaving her alone.
I drained my wine cup, lifted the flask, and poured more.I filled Cassia’s cup as well.I steadied my voice as I answered her, “I don’t understand why either.”
Cassia lifted her cup, the humiliation of her ordeal fading from her eyes.She was with me now, and safe.
“We will simply have to find out,” she said.
I slept heavily that night,oblivious to the noise in the streets as wagons and carts delivered goods, including wine to the merchant downstairs.My dreams, what there were of them, flitted through my head like ghosts.Xerxes appeared in one, laughing at me from the Elysium fields and raising his wine glass to me as Cassia had done at supper.
A poke in my side made Xerxes dissolve, his grin fading.
I pried open my eyes to see Cassia at the end of a slim stick.She was learning.
Her thick tail of hair tumbled over her shoulder, a black streak on her pale stolla.Her eyes were wide with worry.
“Hesiodos is here,” she said in a hoarse whisper.“He says he’s come to take you to the Palatine.Nero has asked to see you.”
