Cassia deflated. “Perhaps his hired man mistook Rufus for Herakles.”
“But Vestalis knows Herakles, who has become Domitiana’s lover. He’d have pointed out the right man. Herakles and Rufus are nothing alike, we’ve just decided.”
“True,” Cassia conceded.
“And why is Regulus gone? He’s from Etruria and had started at the ludus well before Aemil acquired Ajax and Herakles.”
“There is no reason to believe Regulus has been taken,” Cassia said. “He might simply be out enjoying himself. You say he is good at freeing himself from confinement.”
“Doesn’t like to be ordered about, no.”
“I suppose we can’t know if Ajax or Herakles had anything to do with Vestalis’s wife.” Cassia let out a little sigh. “They might have been on the same raiding party, but nowhere near Vestalis’s family. Or in another raiding party altogether. Or have been captured in an entirely different part of Pannonia.”
I rose to my feet, the stool skittering away. “Wecanknow. I will go ask Herakles right now.”
“It’s dark,” Cassia said with an apprehensive glance at the balcony.
“None will waylay me.” I could not wait tamely until morning to discover answers.
“Take your cloak.” Cassia’s soft voice touched me. “It’s gone chilly.”
Somewhere under my anger and impatience, I felt a sense of wonderment. I’d never had someone worry, for my own sake, whether I’d take cold or return home unhurt.
I lifted the cloak she’d neatly hung on a peg and went out the door.
* * *
When I reachedthe gate of the ludus, Septimius admitted me without hesitation. Aemil, emerging from a line of cells, strode to meet me.
“We found it,” he said grimly. “The curse.”
I’d forgotten I’d suggested he search for a curse. Perhaps it was to blame for all the trouble, and Cassia and I had been rushing about Rome for no reason.
“It was in Rufus’s cell.” Aemil’s face was hard. “A bit of leather rolled up, inscribed with a venomous spell.”
“Wishing his death?” I asked quickly.
“Wishing him misfortune. Boils on his body. Breaking a leg. The usual thing to keep a gladiator out of the ring. But it worked all too well, didn’t it?”
“What did you do with it?”
“Took it over the bridge to the temple of Hercules at the Circus. Had the curse neutralized and the leather burned.” Aemil’s anger had stamped weary lines on his face.
“Who had a chance to put it in his cell?”
“Anyone.” Aemil waved his arms. “Another of the gladiators. I’ve threatened to flog the whole lot, but none will confess. His bitch of a wife. A fan of a rival ludus.”
I readjusted my conclusions. The curse could have lain in Rufus’s cell for a long time, and true, his wife might have put it there so he’d be injured or die in the arena, and she’d be free to marry Daphnus. Daphnus himself could have had it smuggled in to make Chryseis a widow.
None of which had anything to do with Ajax.
“Where is Herakles?” I returned to my original purpose.
“Dining. Do you have Regulus? I thought you knew where he’d gone.”
I couldn’t find the words to explain, so I strode past Aemil and into the long room where the gladiators took their evening meal. New gladiators weren’t allowed to eat there until they’d proved they’d accepted their fate, and those who caused trouble at training were locked away to consume their meals alone. The rest gathered around a communal dining table.
Praxus, who’d obviously won Aemil’s trust, busily shoveled food into his mouth with his good hand, the other still in the sling. “Leonidas,” he sang out when he saw me. “Too bad you aren’t allowed to join us. Aemil’s a stingy bastard and won’t let us share.”
