My pulse leaped. “What do you mean?”
Appius gestured toward the Temple of Vesta. “You know Caesar won’t go against his soothsayer, which means he won’t kill the barbarian until after Lupercalia, rather than at the triumph.”
“I thought they killed the king of the Visigoths already,” I snapped.
“No.” Grandfather frowned. “You know Igniculus would only want a public slaying. And by his own hands. He always likes to kill the kings himself if his legions capture one alive. Why did you think he was dead?”
I couldn’t admit to him that I’d been to the palace and Caesar had threatened his life while he piled up bodies in his courtyard. I also couldn’t confess that I’d murdered one of them and added to the heap, thinking their Visigoth king was somewhere at the bottom of it.
“I was mistaken,” I said, shaking my head. “But this is good news. Or at least, it could be.”
“How?” asked Appius.
My hunch could be totally wrong, but Julian and I had both thought otherwise. While in Moesia, we’d predicted that the Germanic king was indeed a dragon. Julian swore by it after their combat, which left him with a poisoned gash in his side. We’d deduced that the only way the barbarian’s army could’ve escaped that fiery forest was in dragon form.
“I think the virgin goddess Vesta may be on our side.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Grandfather.
“She has stayed the emperor’s hand. And this Visigoth king has an army we can use.”
“Had,” corrected Appius. “Drussus’s army wiped them all out.”
“No. I heard Drussus say himself that he’d be returning to Thrace to kill the rest.”
“Even if he does have an army left, what good will it do you with a dead king?”
“He won’t be dead if I help him escape.”
They both gaped at me, Grandfather then glancing around to be sure no one had wandered too close.
“Don’t be foolish, Trajan. That’s impossible,” he said. “You’d be caught.”
“No, I wouldn’t. I know a way.” I gripped my grandfather’s shoulder. “Just trust me. And set up the meeting with the others for the night of the triumph. All of Palatine Hill will be having parties to celebrate. It will be the perfect time to have a meeting of our own.”
“Just don’t do anything rash until we’ve met after the triumph.”
I nodded to them both, knowing I was lying, then headed toward the bathhouse where I planned to meet Koska and hopefully get news about Fausta. But my mind was already back home on Lela. I knew exactly what I was going to ask for my favor.
XIIILELA
It was late. The moon was high, and the grass was cool beneath my bare feet. The house had been quiet for some time, and Trajan hadn’t returned home. Closing my eyes, I walked in a small circle within the olive grove trees, imagining I was far away in a free land.
“What are you doing?”
I gasped. Trajan stood beneath a tree. Pieces of moonlight filteredthrough the branches and dappled his face, highlighting his stern expression.
“What are you doing outside?” he accused, stalking closer.
“Everyone is asleep.”
“How do you know that?”
“Am I wrong?” I asked, knowing he came through the house near the servants’ quarters.
“No,” he bit out, now standing beneath the same tree I was, a mere step away. “But that’s not the point. What if someone came outside and caught you?”
“They wouldn’t.” I shrugged. “I’ve watched the comings and goings here for the past three days. There are two servant women who come out the same time every afternoon with baskets to harvest the ripe olives. No one comes out here at night.”
