“As I climbed the stairs, a young man slammed into me,” Drusus said. He watched as Cassia made quick notes, as though he’d doubted her ability to write. “I did not notice at the time, but when I reached my seat, I realized my purse was missing. I had twenty aurei in it.”
Cassia raised her head, surprise making her forget to be servile. Even the lictors’ eyes widened.
An aureus was a gold coin worth twenty-five denarii or one hundred sestertii. A flask of wine cost one sestertius, the rent for our apartment, one denarius a month. The gold pin I wanted to buy Cassia was two denarii.
Twenty aurei was a fortune. The gold in the coins alone would bring whoever had stolen them a hefty profit.
Why Drusus would wander about Rome with so much money on him was more of mystery than who had taken it. Cutpurses were rife on Rome’s streets, and brigands could wait in narrow, shadowy lanes for potential victims, not stopping at murder to relieve them of their valuables. Most people weren’t foolish enough to carry so much wealth on their person.
Drusus not only carried too much money, but he wore plenty of gold on wrists and fingers. He’d also brought only these two lictors to guard him instead of a hefty fighter to deter robbers.
“Did you see the thief, sir?” I asked. “He brushed by you. Do you recall what he looked like?”
“No,” Drusus snapped. “I wasn’t noticing who was in my way.” He hesitated, as though a memory came to him. “He was small. Short and slim. Had a thick head of straight black hair, or would have been black if it hadn’t been so dusty.”
The description could match that of many men and boys in Rome. The thief could also have been a girl or small woman Drusus had mistaken for a male.
“What sort of tunic?” Cassia asked in her quiet voice.
Drusus shrugged. “Short. Dirty. A slave’s tunic.” His eyes narrowed. A slave stealing from him was not only a crime but a grave insult.
“Did he run out of the arena?” was Cassia’s next question. “Or into the seats?”
“Out, I think.” Drusus jerked his attention back to me. “Find him. Shake the money out of him before he spends it. And then bring the slave to me, not to the princeps.” He nearly spat the title. “We can never know if Nero will crucify a thief or turn him into a musician to accompany him. Or a lover.”
The curl of Drusus’s lip showed his contempt of Nero’s habit of trusting slaves and freedmen over his senators and advisors.
Cassia ducked her head again. I noticed she did not promise what she would do when she found the thief.
If we ever could. Rome thronged with revelers at Saturnalia, and more men than Drusus would be robbed this day. Almost every citizen could turn thief if given the opportunity.
Drusus was finished with us. He turned his back, as he’d done to Nero, and marched off into the crowds still streaming into the games. The lictors hastily fell into step behind him.
A sudden roar lifted inside the arena. A gladiator had either scored a good hit or gone down. No deaths yet. The first matches were to warm up the crowd. Then would come the executions, the animal hunts, and finally the bouts between famous gladiators.
Gladiators could die in exhibitions as well, when a sword slipped, as had happened to Xerxes, or a blunt weapon cracked too hard against a skull.
The sharp scent of blood came to me, scattering my earlier ease. My chest constricted and I heard a strange buzzing in my head.
A light touch cut through the darkness, as though I’d stepped into a tranquil garden bathed by a fountain and soft breeze. I drew a long breath.
Cassia studied me in understanding, her brown eyes gentle. I nodded and let her lead me from the arena, back into the streets of Rome.
The Circus Gai lay a little way from the Tiber, with few buildings near it. A narrow road led us toward the river and the Pons Agrippae, which would take us to the heart of the city.
Most people on the road were headed for the Circus, looking forward to a day out at the games. We fought our way against this current, having to twist and turn to seep through the revelers.
I was not in the best of humors. We’d rushed away before I’d secured payment from Aemil, and I knew him well enough to guess that he’d find ways to keep his money to himself.
Without the payment, it would take me much longer to find the money for Cassia’s gift. Saturnalia might be over before I’d gathered enough.
“How will we track down one thief in all of Rome?” I asked testily, once Cassia and I were able to walk side by side. The crowd thinned as we neared the river, most of those attending the games having reached the Circus by now.
“He’ll be a particularly rich thief,” Cassia pointed out with a touch of humor. “I doubt he knew exactly how much was in the senator’s purse.”
“Why did Drusus carry that much money with him? The man is a fool. Especially if he planned to attend the games.”
“He might have meant to place a large bet,” Cassia suggested. “Or to purchase something.”
