“I have been hired to build a warehouse,” Gallus said proudly. “Not a monumental one, of course, but one that will sit directly next to this. An importer wishes to expand and needs more space for the goods.”
Chryseis’s new husband’s father was an importer. Had Chryseis decided to build a warehouse for when Daphnus took over his father’s business? Or was she trying to wrest part of that business from the family by marrying into them?
“What is the name of this importer?” I asked. From Cassia’s expression, she had the same idea.
“Tertius Vestalis Felix.” Gallus chuckled. “His cognomen means luck. I suppose he is to have married so much money.”
Cassia stiffened. The name was familiar to me, but for the moment, I could not place it.
“Does everyone marry for wealth?” I asked distractedly. Rufus had, but also presumably for beauty. My friend Xerxes had found a woman he loved, and though he’d not been able to marry her legally, they’d called each other husband and wife. They’d been together for affection and joy.
Gallus observed me with amusement. “The wealthy do. They must keep all that lovely money in the family. And hire builders to give them more storage space so that they can make more. It will be a large project.” He eyed me in eagerness. “Now, as to what you can do for me. Would you like a place on my construction team? I could use someone who was trained in building. I can try you out, see what you know, perhaps make you a foreman if we rub along well.”
A tingle rushed through my body, one similar to that when I’d waited to step out under the shouting masses and begin a fight, but this one was accompanied by a wave of pleasure. I hadn’t felt such a thing in so long I had to take a step back.
I wanted what Gallus offered more than anything. To be at a building site, helping plan how the work proceeded each day, watching the structure take shape, knowing my hands had guided the stones or laid the brick … It would give me a sense of purpose, fulfill me in a way I hadn’t been in many years. I’d be a real person again.
At the same time, the idea was terrifying. One of the greatest tragedies of my life had occurred at a building site. Another had taken place in an amphitheater, and both times I’d lost someone dear to me.
I wanted what Gallus offered, and at the same time, wanted to thrust it away with dizzying force.
“Do consider it,” Gallus said, noting my hesitation. “I’d be the talk of Rome, with my gladiator who knows all about structural forces.”
“I will think it over.” I swallowed, unable to explain. “When will you start?”
“A few weeks from now. That is, if we can clear the site. There are always complications. Owners not giving permission until the last possible moment, marshy patches that have to be drained, any soft soil dug away, and there is always a spot that is sacred tosomeone, or was sacred to them several hundred years in the past. Not that I want to offend a god or the ancestors.” Gallus touched the wall he stood next to as though to appease any gods hanging about the place.
A few weeks would give me time to ponder. I could see Gallus was disappointed that I did not accept right away, but he didn’t pursue the topic.
“Why are you here, Leonidas?” Gallus asked breezily. “Retrieving a shipment?”
I paused a mere instant before deciding to tell him the truth. Gallus had proved to be trustworthy and helpful in the past. “Discovering if someone was killed here.”
Gallus blinked and then glanced about wildly, as though ready to run. “Killedhere?” He let out a breath. “By the gods, Leonidas, you were looking into a death the first time I met you. Is it your profession now?”
“Gladiators are being hunted. My lanista asked for my help.”
“Gladiators … oh, yes, I heard about the one who was found in the insula. Limbs and blood everywhere. My, my.” Gallus wiped his forehead with the frayed end of his toga. “Too awful for me. It’s one thing for gladiators to battle each other in the games—which I care not to watch—quite another for one to be killed in a person’s home.”
Cassia broke in. “Whatever tale you’ve heard is an exaggeration. There was no blood and the body was quite neat. We are searching for where he actually was killed.”
A man of the Equestrian class could strike a slave for speaking to him without leave, but Gallus only regarded her thoughtfully.
“Why do you search here, young Cassia?” he asked in curiosity. “If murderers are lurking about the Emporium, I hardly want to start work on my site in such a lonely spot.”
Cassia indicated the space around us with a slim hand. “The dead man’s wife owns this warehouse.”
“And you think she killed him? Is that likely?” Gallus scrubbed the top of his head, his toga still clutched in his hand. “A woman could hardly murder a great hulking gladiator, could she?” He shifted his gaze between Cassia and me as though trying to imagine her sending me to the ground.
“Not without help,” I said.
“Or the killers used this warehouse to point at Chryseis,” Cassia supplied in her quiet voice.
“How horrible.” Gallus touched the wall in an appeasing way again. “Have you found anything?”
“Not yet.” I turned away, wanting to finish the search as soon as possible. The air here chilled me and not because of the cool weather outside.
I left Gallus and Cassia and moved to the far end of the warehouse. Its roof had been formed similarly to the one at the Porticus Aemilia—two vaults stepped up the hill, with an open space at the top of the walls of the second vault to provide light.
