“How is Laurentius?” I asked him in a mild tone.
I named an actor Regulus had taken a liking to, a cheerful young man whose position in society was little better than that of a slave. Actors were regarded as below even gladiators.
Regulus deepened his scowl and did not answer.
“The games begin in two days’ time,” Aemil said to me. “Be at the ludus in the first hour of the morning. You’ll get your payment after the parade.”
I knew that Cassia would prefer half the payment up front and half on completion, which was what she negotiated for bodyguard work, but I also knew I could push Aemil only so far.
I agreed to his terms, and he took his leave from me. Regulus sent me a belligerent look before he followed Aemil down the crowded street.
I’d have to be careful of Regulus, I decided as I watched them go. I couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t try to kill me at the games, whether Aemil agreed to it or not.
I studied Decimus’s shop for some time before I turned away and made for the Quirinal Hill and my apartment on its lower slope.
Chapter 2
Cassia expressed disappointment, when I reached home, that I had not coerced Aemil into paying me something today, but she agreed that the entire fee would be welcome.
“Make sure he gives it to you,” she said darkly as she noted the transaction on her wax tablet.
“He’s paid us before.” I hung my cloak next to hers, noting how much care she took of the garment.
“Only after he tried to argue his way out of it,” Cassia reminded me.
Cassia’s dark hair was in place in its usual knot at the base of her neck. Her tunic flowed in soft folds from her shoulders, the fabric whole and unstained. She wore no jewelry, but her hands were as clean and neat as her clothing, her nails trimmed.
She was always tidy, in contrast to me, dusty from my days at the building sites where I worked with an architectus, and from Rome’s general grime.
“Why did you agree?” Cassia asked me in curiosity.
I shrugged, avoiding her penetrating gaze. “For the money. I thought you’d be pleased.”
“Income is always welcome, yes.” Cassia removed her scrutiny and made another mark in her tablet. “But you vowed never to return to the arena.”
True, I had said this many times. As I did not want to tell her why I was willing to face my darkness and take Aemil’s fee, I shrugged again.
“I’m not fighting in the games. I will walk in the parade, stand in place for a few minutes, and then depart.”
I moved to the shelf that had been in the apartment when we’d moved here, where my rudis lay, a reminder that I was truly a freedman. I’d never been given a freedman’s cap or the banquet for my luck at gaining my liberty, but I hadn’t minded. The rudis was the only symbol I needed.
I heard a whisper of cloth, a soft footfall, and Cassia was next to me.
She reached up and laid a finger on the rudis. “We should have a stand made for this. To display it with honor.”
“It is no trouble,” I answered.
I didn’t need to exhibit the wooden sword as a trophy. I only wanted it nearby to reassure myself that my days of desperation and ruthlessness were over.
I lifted the rudis from the shelf. I hadn’t touched it much since Cassia had pried it from my hand the day we’d first entered this apartment. Before that, I hadn’t been able loosen my hold and let it go.
My hand threatened to cramp around the hilt once more. I forced my fingers to relax, while I waited for darkness to pour at me, the black mindlessness that took me over whenever I fought. I became a deadly machine, efficiently breaking my opponent until he was dead or severely wounded at my feet.
Nothing happened. The chill winter breeze crept through cracks in the shutters, and the oil lamp Cassia had lit in the gloom flickered.
She stood close to me, unafraid. I could turn on her, snap her slender neck without much trouble, and leave her mangled on the floor. The trained gladiator in me knew exactly how to do it.
But I never would. Cassia watched me, unaware of the danger next to her, confidence in her eyes.
