Vestalis let out a rasping shout and rushed for the door, no doubt to summon help.
“No you don’t, old man,” Regulus growled. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Regulus grip Vestalis by the tunic, his hand even in a paralyzed body strong enough to halt the elderly man’s steps.
That left me to grapple with Silvanus. I could have bested him at my full strength, but while my arms mostly worked, I was still immobile, and he had command of all his limbs.
I twisted his wrist as he reached for a weapon, found the knife in his belt, and closed my hand around it. Silvanus jerked wildly in my grasp and the knife, coming free, fell from my still-clumsy fingers, clattering to the floor. Regulus jeered.
I grabbed Silvanus before he could dive for the knife. I yanked him across my body, twisting him around to lock my arm around his neck. He flailed and struck out, and I began to squeeze.
Silvanus coughed and swore as the crook of my arm cut off his air. I wasn’t certain what to do next though, because my entire strength had not returned. Silvanus might faint, but I still could not move enough to get off the slab and carry Regulus out with me. Vestalis was yelling hoarsely, and it was only a matter of time before other servants heard and investigated.
Silvanus beat my torso with one fist. He got in a lucky blow high on my abdomen, whooshing air out of me.
I was transported back to a bout more than five years ago, in a time when I was still gaining my prowess. A myrmillo had knocked me to the ground, his foot connecting with my stomach, sending all breath from me. I’d been almost as transfixed, there on the hot sand, as I was now.
I saw the myrmillo standing over me, gloating, ready to kick me again, his sword rising for the killing blow to my exposed chest.
My instincts took over. I rolled on the sand, tangling my legs with his, sweeping him from his feet. The myrmillo tried to retain his balance but fell heavily, arm out to stop himself. The arm broke, and I barreled him to the ground to the screaming delight of the crowd.
My shoulder met solid ground as I fell from the bunk, wrenching me back to the present. Silvanus came down with me, and I felt the knife cold beneath my side. I rolled again in the tight space, my hand landing on the knife just as a panting Silvanus’s did.
A sudden bright light showed me the bronze knife blade rising high, both of our hands clenching it, the blade heading straight for my chest.
Chapter 25
The cell filled with noise. I managed to deflect the blow from the startled Silvanus, but the blade sliced my skin, and blood ran from the wound.
Silvanus was ripped from me by a pair of enormously strong, weathered, and rock-hard hands, accompanied by a snarl of rage.
I knew those hands, and that snarl. Aemilianus, who’d terrified the condemned youth I’d been long ago, held the tall Silvanus in his hard grip, and began bashing the man’s head against the ceiling.
Regulus roared with laughter. “About time you got here.”
Vestalis was weeping, surrounded by people I couldn’t make out. One slipped past him and flung herself onto me.
I was half on my side on the floor, my legs knotted in the small space, back jammed against the stone bunk. Now a woman in a woolen cloak clung to me, her shoulders shaking as her hair spilled to my face.
“What are you doing here?” I managed to croak.
Cassia raised her head, her cheeks damp in the glow of too much lamplight. “You didn’t come home. I went to the ludus …”
“By yourself?” I asked in alarm.
“No, no. I found help. At the ludus Septimius said you rushed off toward the Aventine, and that you’d been asking questions about the lady of the Caelian Hill. I told Aemilianus you were in grave danger.”
Aemil was busy bashing Silvanus’s head into the bricks, the tall Silvanus slumped and groaning.
“Be careful,” I called to Aemil. “He carries poison.”
“Has he poisoned you?” The voice of Nonus Marcianus came around Aemil, and the thin man stepped into the light. “With what?” His tone held eager curiosity.
“I don’t know.” I lay in a tangle, stroking Cassia’s hair to soothe her. I noted that it was soft and warm. “I can’t get up. Regulus can’t either.”
“Interesting.” Marcianus bent over me, touching my legs with a professional hand. I felt only a tingle.
“Interesting, is it?” Regulus still had hold of Vestalis, who hung dejectedly in his grasp. “What about a cure? Don’t you have some vial of a potion that will let me move again?”
“Not until I know the exact nature of the poison. How was it administered?”
