“Take the horses to the stables and stay there until someone comes for you. Forget you ever saw us.”
Trajan stepped back. Like an automaton, the guard took the reins that were dragging on the cobblestone then guided them toward the stables behind the prison. As he walked away, Trajan returned to my side, peering down.
“Remarkable.” He smiled. “Just a few more to go.”
I nodded, charged by the electricity pouring through my veins. Awakening the magic felt like instinct now. I once wondered if it still lived inside me at all, but I thought now it had never left me. It was simply waiting to be revived, reignited. Perhaps that was because my spirit had grown weak, had fallen into a shadowy gloom. But that veil was lifted with my new purpose, with my new path. With Trajan.
Trajan didn’t bring his gladius, but a smaller knife he could hide and wield easily, similar to the dagger he’d given me. I was surprised he’d armed me. Another brick crumbled from the wall I’d built around my heart, daring me to trust this man.
After our encounter in the olive grove, I had begun to believe Trajan might be different than the other Roman men I’d known. I did believe he and his conspirators wanted the power of Rome for themselves, but the idea it would be any different from the empire under Emperor Igniculus was a far-fetched dream to me. Until he handed me a dagger.
Why that moment jarred me beyond others, I wasn’t sure. Perhaps because I’d been kept muzzled like a dog for years, given no freedoms at all. Not even the freedom to open my mouth and speak at will.Trajan had not only handed me a dagger, but he’d offered me his own blood, knowing it was the same as handing me his own life.
I followed him into the dark corridor, a burning excitement lighting me up inside that I had someone on my side. Even if it was only for now in order to get what he wanted, this man would fight for me, protect me.
Torches flickered in sconces on the wall. The dank smell of mold and urine mingled in the air as Trajan took my hand and led me down the hallway. We both held our blades in our free hands, picking our way quietly through the dark, windowless corridor.
Voices echoed up ahead and were coming closer. Trajan quickly pulled me into an alcove, thrusting me behind him and using his black cloak to cover his face. But his knife was at the ready.
“I doubt Caesar makes it to Lupercalia,” said a guard.
“But the soothsayer made his premonition. Caesar always listens to that old goat.”
“Maybe so, but Igniculus needs blood.”
“He’ll find other means to preoccupy himself.”
They laughed as they passed the alcove where we stood.
“That reminds me. I’m heading to visit Lucinda after duty today.”
“Has she got a friend?”
“If you’ve got the coin, she’ll have a friend.”
Their laughter faded as they rounded another corner. Trajan didn’t move, and I waited silently until he stepped out of our hiding spot and back down the corridor.
We passed two empty cells and one where a man in a soiled tunic lay on his side on the stone floor facing the wall, the stench of urine foul here. It wasn’t the Visigoth king. At the end of the hall, there were stone steps leading down. Trajan pointed but said nothing. I nodded, then we moved quietly down the staircase.
When we entered the bottom floor, there seemed to be no onethere. But Trajan pointed to the right then held up one finger. So he believed there was only one guard down here. With his heightened senses, he could smell them or hear their heartbeats.
Following him, we stepped softly along the soiled path. The torchlight lit on bars of a cell up ahead. And right outside, a guard sat on a stone bench. He had his eyes closed, already dozing on duty. Trajan squeezed my hand, telling me to stay. Stealthily, he crept forward.
Right as he reached him, the guard’s eyes snapped open.
“Ah!” he managed to cry out, right before Trajan covered his mouth with one hand, slicing his blade out toward the hand that reached for him.
“Come here,” he whispered urgently.
Instantly, I was there, taking his blade and once again tasting the metallic blood from the steel edge.
“Stop struggling,” I commanded in a soft hush.
The guard went limp. “You do not see us,” I told him. “Now go to sleep.”
He slumped over on his side at once, already snoring by the time Trajan stood back and peered through the bars. I joined him, noting there was a pillar of natural light shining through a hole at the top of the wall. It would’ve been right at street level outside.
We both looked around the large circular cell. It was five times bigger than the smaller ones we passed along the corridor upstairs on the main floor. This was obviously the cell for high-ranking enemies of state. It had to be the one for the Visigoth.
