The shopkeeper, a wiry man with shrewd eyes, looked her over with an evaluating gaze which lingered on the incongruity of her dirty clothing and expensive jewelry. His gaze then moved to Max, who loomed at her elbow. Iris stood behind them, arms crossed over her chest.
The shopkeeper picked up the bracelet and inspected it. He laid it on a scale and stacked counterweights on the other side. “May I ask where you came by this piece, lady?”
Likely he thought it was stolen. “It was a gift from my husband, of course.”
The shopkeeper’s gaze returned to Max. “Is this your husband?”
She shook her head. “I’m a widow.” The words sent a pang through her.
Max rested his palms on the counter, leaning forward so his shoulders seemed even broader. “I’m merely responsible for the lady’s protection. And to see that she gets a fair price for her jewels.”
The shopkeeper finished weighing the bracelet. “My condolences on the loss of your husband, lady. This is a beautiful piece, but these stones are glass. I’ll give you thirty denarii for the gold.”
Volusia bristled. “Those are rubies, sir.”
The shopkeeper shrugged. “I’m sure that’s what your husband told you.”
He was trying to shortchange her, and she would not allow it. After all she had been through, a shifty shopkeeper would not stand in her way. “Max, give me your knife.”
Max removed his short blade from its sheath and handed it to her. She reversed her grip on it and brought the hilt smashing down onto one of the rubies as hard as she could. The table shuddered.
Volusia held up the unharmed bracelet. “If that had been glass, that stone would have shattered. But as you can see, there is not a scratch on it.”
The shopkeeper took the bracelet and inspected it, his mouth twisting into a frown.
“My husband paid six hundred for it, but I’m willing to part with it for five hundred, given that we have immediate need of the coin.” In truth, she had no idea how much Avitus had paid for the bracelet, but it was a good enough guess. “You can sell it to the right buyer for seven hundred, no doubt.” Luckily, Genua was a big enough town with plenty of trade going in and out that there would be a market for expensive goods such as this.
The man gave the bracelet another appraising glance, then a short nod. “All right. Five hundred.” He disappeared into a back room for a few moments, emerging with a small wooden box full of coins. He emptied the silver coins onto the scale, weighed them to the correct amount, then swept them into a leather sack, which he handed to Max.
“Wait,” Volusia said as Max turned to leave. “I want to sell these as well.” She removed the gold and pearl earrings that had somehow survived the ordeal and placed them on the counter.
“We have enough,” Max said in a low voice. “There’s no need to part with your earrings.”
Volusia cast a glance at Iris, lurking by the door to the shop. “I have another use in mind for the money.” The events of the past few days had renewed her thoughts of freeing Iris, and she didn’t want to send her off empty-handed.
The shopkeeper examined the earrings and this time, gave them a good price without having to haggle.
They took the money, gave him the jewelry, and left the shop.
“Are you sure it’s enough?” Volusia asked anxiously. She used to monitor the household accounts, so knew how much wine, food, or fabric cost, but had little concept of what something like a room at an inn or a horse would set them back.
Max hefted the bag of coin. “It will get us a room and some meals. And two decent horses, I’d say. We’ll have to take turns walking.”
That was enough. Volusia’s wrist and ears felt strangely light without the jewelry, but she would have traded the pieces a hundred times over for the certainty of a hot meal and a bed that wasn’t rocky dirt.
They found a tavern that looked clean enough, and Max handed over a handful of coins to secure a room upstairs, a vat of hot water for a bath, and a meal for the three of them.
They sat at a rickety table in the cramped dining room. The wooden stool was held together with twine, and the legs were uneven, but sitting on a chair after nothing but rocks and grass felt like the highest luxury.
A few other travelers eyed them curiously, no doubt wondering at their disheveled state. Despite all they had been through, Volusia couldn’t suppress a flush of embarrassment at appearing in public like this. She tried to comb her fingers through her hair and rub the dirt from her face. Max, for his part, seemed entirely unbothered, though she noticed that he did position his bulky frame to block her from view of the other travelers as much as possible.
The food that arrived consisted of lumpy porridge topped with a few paltry pieces of gristly, under-seasoned meat, with a pitcher of sour, watery wine on the side. They devoured every bite. The food that Max had foraged on their journey had kept them from starvation, but Volusia still felt as if she hadn’t eaten in days.
Once her belly was full, Volusia reached across the table to take Iris’s hand. “There’s something I’ve been thinking about these past few days.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t think you should return to Rome with us, Iris.”
Confusion flickered across Iris’s face. “What do you mean? Not—” Her mouth dropped open. “Please don’t sell me. I know you need the money for another horse, but—”
“Of course I’m not going to sell you!” Volusia squeezed her hand. “No, Iris, I want tofreeyou. I know we discussed waiting until we reached Rome, but I’m afraid you’ll be dragged into all this mess. More than you already have been. If you return to Rome with me, you’ll be questioned once we bring these accusations against Petronax. I don’t want to risk that.”
