“Why?” I demanded. “What difference does it make whether Cassia belongs to me or whoever is this benefactor?”
Hesiodos moved his slim shoulders in a shrug. “I did not ask his reasons. I only do what I am told.”
He was the perfect servant, having no questions or curiosity beyond what he was ordered to do. My fury rose.
“When will he reveal whatever it is he wants of us?” I asked in a harsh voice. “And once he does, and I do what he wishes, will we then be dust to him?”
Again the shrug. “That I cannot say, because I do not know.” To his credit, Hesiodos’s expression held some sympathy. “Until that day, Cassia is to look after you, and you, her.”
I glanced at Cassia, waiting for me near an arch in the colonnade, her cloak wrapped about her, her inquisitive eyes on me. She was interested in everything around her, always, no matter what she had gone through.
“Which I will do,” I told Hesiodos. “But he had better reveal himself soon.”
Hesiodos fixed me with a stern gaze. “Do not confront him or defy him, Leonidas. I warn you for your own good. And for Cassia’s. Be patient. That is the best thing.”
I tamped down my anger with effort. If this benefactor decided to punish me, it was true that Cassia would share the punishment. At best, she’d be sold again, to who knew what sort of man.
I gave Hesiodos a final scowl, then turned and left him.
Chapter 26
We were not allowed to lock ourselves into our apartment and recover from what happened—I badly wanted to down a flask of wine and fall asleep—because Cassia’s retinue waited for us there.
After Cassia told them about what had happened on the Palatine, Martolia danced in triumph that Rufus’s murder would have justice, the bells on her ankles ringing frenziedly. Gaius drummed with enthusiasm, and Merope happily twirled her sister out onto the balcony. I remembered that Martolia with Gaius had been hired to dance at a house on the Caelian, which explained how Martolia had reached Vestalis’s so quickly. She and Gaius must have noted Aemil and the others rushing to the villa.
Sextus Livius had withdrawn his guards when the Praetorians had come, not wanting to be anywhere near Nero’s functionaries. He’d also sought our rooms and now thumped me on the shoulder, holding a cup of the wine he’d brought with him for all.
“I was happy to help, Leonidas,” he said when I thanked him. “As I stated, you have done me a good turn. I admit I worried much for you when I received Cassia’s message.”
“Your arrival was timely. He’d have killed me.”
Livius sobered. “No doubt. I can supply a guard for you always if you need it. My men are well-trained and loyal.”
His men looked like bandits turned partly civilized, but this was not unusual. Many mercenaries took on bodyguard work when there were no wars to fight or cities to raid.
“You are kind,” I said. “But I am supposed to be doing the guard work.”
Livius chuckled. “That is true. However, if you continue to hunt killers through the streets, you will need help. My offer stands.”
I thanked him again, having no intention of tracking any more murderers. I would seek Gallus and become a builder, leaving death and murder behind me.
Livius finished his cup of wine then departed, his men closing around him as they marched off into the darkness. I listened to their tramp of feet fading, Livius never having to fear the Roman night.
Marcianus had arrived to make certain the poison had worn through me. He gave me a thorough examination, peering into my mouth and eyes, sniffing my breath. This to the fascination of Helvius, who’d also turned up.
When Marcianus finished with me, I took Helvius aside.
“Thank you,” I said. “For helping Cassia. And me.”
Helvius ducked his head. “I’d do anything for her.” He glanced at Cassia, resignation in his eyes. “But I know she won’t have me.” He sighed. “We’ve been friends for years, and I will take that bond if I can have no other. I will always make certain she is well, even if she can’t give me what I want.”
I clasped Helvius’s shoulder in new respect. Of all the players in this drama, Helvius probably possessed morevirtusthan any of the others.
Aemil had come with Marcianus, who’d been at the ludus when a frantic Cassia and Helvius had arrived.
“Always glad to see you back from the Palatine in one piece,” Aemil said, lifting his cup to me. “And this time, the Caelian.” He frowned. “But I can’t believe that a former proconsul of Vestalis’s prestige bothered to slip a curse into Rufus’s cell. He hadn’t even planned to kill him, had he? That was his servant’s idea.”
“I believe the curse came from Daphnus, Chryseis’s new husband,” I said with conviction. “Maybe he paid someone to tuck it there, or maybe he pretended to be an admirer and gave it to Rufus himself, telling him it was a good-luck charm. If I see Daphnus again, I will ask him.”
