In contrast with the worn elegance of Cloelius’s home, all here was either new or had been cared for with diligence. Everything gleamed—from the floor tile to the carved wooden furnishings to the gilding on table legs to the polished bronze braziers, empty now in the warming day.
Unlike in Cloelius’s domus, I did not have to wait to be summoned to the tablinum. Livius himself strode out from the back of the house, the gold on his wrists as polished as his furniture.
“Leonidas.” A smile lit his face. “You are most welcome.”
Livius spread his arms like he’d embrace me but lowered them again as though thinking better of it.
“I’ve brought … news.” I hesitated over saying bad news, because I was not certain what kind of information it was.
Livius lost his smile but not his polite manner. “Then let us discuss it somewhere brighter. Come.”
He started off into the shadows, expecting me to follow. The gladiator guard fell into step behind me like a rearguard as I hastened after Livius.
We entered another peristyle garden, this one in the middle of the house as was customary, but it was no less lavish than the one outside. It wasn’t much smaller, either. Somewhere in the distance must be the kitchen where a cook worked to fill Livius’s tables and servants to keep this extensive villa clean.
Spring green filled the space around the rectangular fountain, and new flowers poked up in the beds. I didn’t know what the flowers were called, but I’d seen similar ones work their way through the earth even around our practice ring at the ludus.
The gladiator did not leave us alone, even when Livius turned to me expectantly.
I didn’t blame the guard. I could do anything from knocking Livius down and stealing his jewelry to abducting him to hold for ransom. Livius might trust me, but his men did not.
“We found a body at your warehouse site,” I began. As Livius’s brows climbed, I related everything, from me coming across the ring, to Nero’s instruction, to my itching feeling this morning that we should dig up the foundation stones.
Livius did not recoil or begin begging the gods for intervention, as Gallus had done. His expression changed from uncertainty to fascination to intrigue as I spoke.
“Poor fellow,” he said when I finished. “Any idea who he is?”
“None. I found only a piece of leather with him, but everything else was either stolen or rotten away.”
“And your medicus is examining him?”
“With great interest.” I imagined Marcianus even now picking over the bones, his expression eager, while Marcia held a lamp or handed him tools.
“Well.” Livius rocked on the heels of his well-made shoes, dark brows drawing together.
I was abruptly struck by how much he resembled his father, a retired senator who’d sired him long ago. The same frown, the same bend of head as he contemplated a problem. Livius’s hair was dark brown, his father’s gray, but it had the same wiriness and curl.
“Will you shut down the site?” I asked when he didn’t speak. I tried to sound casual, but my trepidation was high.
Livius blinked, pulled back from wherever his thoughts had taken him. “No. Why would I?”
I shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. “A dead body, his ghost, bad luck? He might have cursed the place as he died. Or the killer might have.”
To my surprise, Livius burst out laughing. “My friend, if I were to turn my back on every opportunity because of a curse or bad luck, I’d have become a bankrupt many years ago.”
Chapter 16
Livius’s laughter uncoiled something inside me. The thought of going back to being a bodyguard, or giving in to train gladiators for Aemil, had disheartened me, as though the gods would never let me escape my gladiator past.
“Gallus might disagree,” I said, trying to stem my hopes. I worked for Gallus, not Livius.
“I believe Gallus would be perked up by a monetary award,” Livius answered, his good humor returning. “You say Vibius’s wife can lift any curse?”
“He thinks so.” Vibius had been most confident.
“Is she a witch?” Livius scratched his nose. “I think I’d rather deal with a possible curse than a live witch.”
“I’ve met her—Aelia Cloelia. I thought her kind and sensible.”
