Marcianus wiped out the cup and returned it to the shelf. “Hunt for Herakles and the others if you must, Leonidas. But say nothing to Aemil until you find out what they’re up to. No need for him to flog them if they’re only visiting their lovers.”
“I would leave them to it.” I hesitated, wondering why I needed to explain myself to Marcianus. “But I need the fee Aemil has said he’ll pay.”
“Your benefactor hasn’t showered you with riches yet?” Marcianus’s good humor began to return.
“Not yet. If he—or she—ever will.” I had a few ideas about who my anonymous and rather stingy benefactor might be, but so far, I’d found out little. “I haven’t had a job in a few weeks, and if Cassia says our funds are dwindling, I believe her.”
Marcianus’s face softened. “Cassia is a wise young woman. Give her my best, Leonidas.”
Marcianus and Cassia had formed a friendship—both of them spoke fluent Greek and were well-read in the sciences and medicine. I imagined that Cassia found relief in speaking with Marcianus after days of living with an illiterate gladiator.
“I’ll say nothing to Aemil until I know what’s become of them,” I promised. “If they simply show up for training tomorrow, he might go easier on them.”
“Let us hope so. Good day to you, Leonidas.”
I returned the goodbye and left Marcianus, who was always cordial. Behind me, Praxus snored on.
I walked along the colonnade, avoiding my old cell, and departed through the gate. Septimius bade me a good-natured farewell, his annoyance with Regulus gone.
The gate clanged behind me with finality. Inside was a life and routine I’d known for years. Outside was uncertainty, the scramble to make enough money to feed myself and Cassia. My new life, like the one I’d left, could end just as suddenly.
I was not certain which was better.
* * *
I decidedto search for Ajax first, turning my steps toward the brothels of the Subura. I knew the Subura well, having spent plenty of time there at a lupinarius run by a woman called Floriana. That house was empty now, the women gone, but I knew of other places.
The Pons Agrippae was busy as I crossed it, people hurrying both away from Rome or into it, wanting to be indoors when darkness fell. In Februarius, the sun set near the twelfth hour, and by the looks of the sky, it was close to that.
I glanced upstream as I went. Villas lined the Tiber, with terraced gardens flowing down toward the river. Which had Herakles gone to?
The current of Romans took me with them to the Campus Martius. During daylight, I would have simply cut through the Campus to avoid the crowds in the forums, but at night, it was better to stay in more congested areas.
It was already twilight by the time I turned south past the Theatre of Pompey and the Campus Flaminius. I continued with the throng around the Capitoline Hill, the crowd thinning somewhat as I neared the Forum Romanum, as business there had concluded for the day.
Usually, I’d make my way northward from the Forum up the hill to the small lane where I lived. Cassia would be home, laying out things for our supper, making notes on her tablets, singing some ballad under her breath.
Our life had settled into a routine—Cassia fetched water and food for our meals, then spent time after breakfast going through our accounts and deciding how much I needed to charge on my next job. I’d go to the Forum and skulk about, looking for men who might need a guard. Sometimes I was successful, sometimes not. I’d then adjourn to the baths and to exercise to keep myself fit, as I had today, before returning to find Aemil at my table.
I wanted more than anything to go to the apartment now, to eat my lentil stew and greens and any sweet treat Cassia had found on her way home. I’d listen to her talk about who she’d spoken to that day and what was happening in Rome—Cassia always seemed to know.
My compulsion to tramp that way made my limbs ache as I turned away and continued along the base of the Quirinal to the Subura.
Most people feared walking here in the dark, but I’d done so many a night. I passed the building that used to contain Floriana’s lupinarius. Most of the house had been pulled down, and the shops replacing it were still under construction.
Passing Floriana’s made me think of my friend Gnaeus Gallus, anarchitectus. He’d once offered to take me on as his assistant, but I hadn’t accepted. First, because I doubted he could pay more than the bodyguard work, and second, I wasn’t certain about returning to the remnants of my old life—the one before the ludus.Walking onto a building site was bittersweet for me.
A painting of a nude woman pursued by a satyr adorned the wall of the next lupinarius along. Men gathered outside the door, clumping together nervously as they waited their turn.
“Leonidas! Who are you choosing tonight?” A burly man I’d seen many times at Floriana’s hailed me in recognition.
I shrugged, which made him laugh, probably thinking I’d line up the ladies and pick who I wanted. I threaded my way through the men and ducked under the low lintel and inside.
“We’re full.” A woman in a garish red wig, curled like the best patrician matron’s, skewered me with a glare. “Oh, it’s Leonidas. I haven’t seen you in these parts for months. Too good for us now, are you?”
She snapped her retort in all seriousness. I’d been a well-paying customer, though I’d preferred Floriana’s.
“I’m looking for Ajax.” I saw no reason to lead up to my question.
