Losing Cassia, I realized, would bore a hole in my life I could never refill. A few months ago, I’d not known this woman existed, and now, in a brief time, she’d become an anchor in my existence. I’d been cast adrift, but she’d reached out a hand to steady me.
The first day I’d met her, she’d opened my cramped fingers when I’d been unable to let go of the rudis—the wooden sword that had meant my freedom. I’d somehow feared that releasing it would leave me floundering in a world I didn’t know. Since then, I’d learned that Cassia would never let me drown.
She’d left the rudis where I could see it every day, to remind myself that I was free and whole. It was Cassia who had balanced me since that day and taught me how to live again.
Maybe someday I could do this without her. But not now. Not today.
I pressed my lips to her hair, as the rage that I’d almost lost her reared up and kicked me like Regulus in a temper. I’d take her out of here alive, and then I’d murder the man who’d put her in danger.
Cassia, unaware of my turmoil, gently disentangled herself and climbed to her feet.
“Thank you, Leonidas. Do you think that hole is large enough to climb out of?”
Cassia, ever practical. I rose, coughing with the dust that hung in the air. It coated Cassia’s face, lightening her dark hair, and plastered itself to my sweating skin.
Late afternoon sunshine poured through the gap at the top of the rubble. Smoke dimmed that sunshine, but there was less smoke than I’d feared.
Cassia was already contemplating the climb. It would be difficult, the rubble filling almost half the room but not quite reaching the hole in the top of the wall.
Without changing expression, Cassia picked up the ropes she’d retrieved along with her bag from the falling debris, and began to tie them together.
I took the ropes from her and fixed hard knots in the cords until we had a length of about ten feet long. I slung that over my shoulder, gave Cassia a warning look to stay put, and scrambled up the ramp of fallen concrete.
The pile shifted and rolled under my weight. I paused to pack the rubble down in places, wishing I had a cluster of Roman legionaries with their tamping poles to fix it into a solid ramp.
I continued to climb, being careful not to dislodge too many pebbles. Cassia stood with her back to the far wall, wise enough to stay out of the way.
At the top of the pile, I heaved my head and shoulders out of the hole and gazed around me.
The cistern rose above the buildings on either side of it, the roof of the insula next door about a dozen feet below me. We’d have to swing out to make sure we fell on it instead of twice that distance to the street.
This hole was in the rear of the tower, and a quick glance showed no signs of fire below. The blaze had been built in front of the door, but it hadn’t spread. Our captor had likely intended to kill us with the smoke instead of setting the whole neighborhood alight. An experienced vigile would know how to contain a fire.
I unwound the rope and sought a place to tie it off. I found nothing up here but the old pipes—no convenient hook sticking out from the roof for me to use. I wasn’t certain the pipes would hold our weight, since they’d so easily come out of their shafts.
I tied the rope to my waist instead and tossed the end down behind me.
“Climb up here. I’ll hold you steady.”
Cassia eyed me in uncertainty but nodded. Before she caught the rope, she shouldered her bag and tugged her cloak from the crack under the door. I could imagine her reasoning that she’d not want the expense of replacing a good cloak.
Smoke poured in under the door. Cassia rushed to the ramp I’d created, climbing her way to clearer air. The smoke followed her, both of us coughing as I lifted her across me and pushed her out through the gap.
“You’ll have to go there.” I pointed to the roof below us and to the right. Not too far, but a slip on the rope or a bad foothold would send her to the ground.
I tied the rope around her, under her arms, using the leather scroll bag she would not relinquish to help anchor it in place. The space was tight, and she was pressed against me, Cassia who didn’t much like to be touched. She bore it, and I tried to keep my fingers from shaking as I brushed her warm skin.
I balled up her cloak and tossed it to the roof below. It fell into the muddy dust there but might give her a soft place to land.
I lifted Cassia to the edge of the hole. She was terrified, clinging tightly to the rope, eyes wide. But she drew a long breath and swung her legs around, preparing for the descent, her jaw set with determination. Cassia possessed more courage than many gladiators I’d known.
I kept a firm hold of the rope, while Cassia’s feet scrabbled for hold on the wall as I lowered her. She made noises of distress as she half climbed, half slid downward, but she competently pushed herself to the right, aiming for the insula’s roof.
The rope dug into my waist, abrading me through my thin tunic, but I grimly held it steady. After what seemed a very long time, Cassia’s shoes finally touched the solid roof of the insula below. She released her clutch on the rope and pressed her hands to her face, her chest heaving with relief.
“How will you get down?” Cassia called up to me as she untied the knots around her. “What will hold you?”
I was improvising, so I didn’t answer. I’d have to jump and hope I landed in the right place.
