I’d learned the back ways to most places, convenient for avoiding crowds or moving about without notice. I found the entrances to underground spaces I’d discovered months ago while aiding a man to disappear, and with Cassia’s help, explored them a bit more. Cassia did not share my loathing of closed-in spaces—she viewed such things with a practicality I envied—and taught me how to navigate them. We now each carried keys so we could get into and out of these spaces if need be.
Rising from the table, I fetched my strigil and made for the door, telling Cassia I’d go out as usual. She barely acknowledged me as she read through a scroll, pausing to frown over a passage before she reached for the next papyrus.
I walked out into sunshine that had grown hotter. April was a month that could bring cool rain then abruptly become sunny and warm. Today it had decided to do both.
I turned my steps to seek the Aventine Hill and the baths on the Clivus Publicius.
Vibius had probably already finished his bath and departed for home, but I decided to go on the off chance he’d still be there. I would have to work with him, and I was too grateful to Gallus to make him waste time making peace between his assistants.
I had no idea to befriend the man. At the ludus, friendships were hazardous, because any one of us could be killed in a match or abruptly sold to a far corner of the empire. I’d broken my rule with Xerxes, the closest friend I’d ever had, and paid the price.
The bath complex I reached was larger than expected. A wide entrance hall with groin vaults rendered the interior cool after the warm sun. I had to give over an as to the doorman, as these were not public baths, which were free to all.
Whoever had built this complex had tried to rival the works of Agrippa and Nero. The floor was paved with mosaics depicting Neptune and his chariot pulled by giant seahorses, usual for baths. Multicolored marble faced the walls, with columns of porphyry topped with well-carved capitals leading the way down the halls.
A side passageway took me to the changing room, where niches marked by various shell mosaics waited to receive clothes. I slipped the attendant an extra coin to make certain no one stole my tunic while I bathed.
I saw no sign of Vibius as I made my way to the exercise yard. This was also large, with a high wall shielding it from the noisy street outside. I began my usual muscle drilling routine, instilled in me by years of training with Aemil. As hard a man as Aemilianus was, he’d taught me well.
Several men paused to watch me, both fascinated and unsure about a gladiator in their midst. One bold young man asked if I’d show him some of the exercises, so I did an impromptu class there in the yard.
Finished, I sought an attendant with my strigil, my students thanking me profusely. I left them to practice the moves, had my body scraped down, then took myself to the frigidarium. Since most at the bath today were boiling themselves in the caldarium, I had the cold pool almost to myself.
One man with dark hair and a beefy body lounged on the side of the wide bath, idly picking at a scab on his arm. He glanced at me but didn’t seem to recognize me.
I plunged into the pool, letting the cool water soothe my body. I ducked under, scrubbing my hair, then resurfaced.
“Do you know a man called Vibius?” I asked the other inhabitant. He’d given up on the scab and simply lounged against the wall, eyes closed.
“Titianus Vibius?” the man answered without opening his eyes. “Thin man, looks stretched?”
“That’s him,” I answered.
“Pompous sort, isn’t he? For an Equestrian. Why do you want him?”
I shrugged though the man with closed eyes wouldn’t see the gesture. “I met him today. He invited me to join him here.”
One brown eye cracked open, regarded me narrowly, then closed again. “Do not raise your hopes. He only likes women.”
This was said with scorn. “I believe he invited me as a friend.” Though in truth, I had no idea why Vibius asked me here, except maybe to keep track of or to try to take the ring.
The man snorted. “Again, do not raise your hopes. He has no friends.”
That seemed unlikely. “No?”
“As I say, he is pompous, conceited, and believes himself a genius. He is a barely competent builder’s assistant and that is all.”
I subsided, keeping my thoughts to myself. I wondered why this man disliked Vibius—the waves of his aversion rolled to me across the pool. I doubted Gallus would hire anyone only barely competent, though I admitted he’d taken a chance on me. Perhaps Gallus had been kind to Vibius as well.
The man gave me no more information. From time to time, he raised his eyelids and regarded me, as though puzzled about my connection to Vibius, but mostly, he ignored me.
I rested in the pool for a while, pretending to ignore the other man in return. Not much later, the water rocked as he heaved himself from the pool and bade me a terse farewell. I soaked for a bit longer, then left the bath, dried myself with the towel I’d hired, then dressed and left the complex, my pouch several ases lighter.
I never saw Vibius. I suspected he’d finished his bathing and gone home long before I arrived.
The Forum Romanum was quiet when I reached it, as the majority of orators, magistrates, and senators had retired to the baths for the afternoon. The streets beyond were emptying, Romans finishing business for the day and seeking rest or food.
As I climbed the stairs above the winery, I heard voices from our apartment.
