He had succeeded in bringing Volusia home. She was safe, reunited with her family. Their families no longer thought they were dead. Everything, for a moment at least, was all right.
Two things still nagged at him. Firstly, there was the matter of Elephant. He needed to find his horse. If he were Glabrio, and found himself with an extra horse, what would he do?
Sell herwas the likely answer. Anxiety swelled in his chest at the thought of Elephant being thrust into unknown hands. If he was lucky, Glabrio had waited until they reached Rome to sell her, rather than passing her off somewhere along the journey. Max would have to visit every horse dealer he could find and ask if they’d seen her. Luckily, Elephant was a fine horse, and would have fetched a good price. The dealers would remember her.
He felt better once he’d made a plan to find Elephant, but the other thing that bothered him was not so easy to resolve. His feelings for Volusia had become impossible to ignore, and he could no longer tell himself it had just been a childhood infatuation. He had to hope his feelings would fade once they were no longer bound together by danger.
But the ache under his ribs made him fear she wouldn’t be so easy to leave behind. Despite the stress of their journey, he missed the nights they’d spent together snuggled in an uncomfortable bed at an inn or a pile of straw in a barn. He already missed her constant presence at his side.
He wondered if she had spared him a thought after returning home. No doubt she was entirely focused on her son, as she should be. He should do the same, and set his feelings for her aside.
Water splashed as the man on the other side of the pool climbed out. Max glanced over. Lamplight caught the man’s face, and Max squinted. He looked uncannily like…
“Silvanus?” Max’s voice echoed around the room.
The man grabbed his towel, threw it around his waist, and hurried from the room. Max settled back into the pool. His eyes were playing tricks on him in the dim light. Avitus’s secretary had stayed in Narbo. His mind was too full with thoughts of Volusia.
Once his skin was pink with heat, he rose out of the bath, wrapping a towel around his waist, and moved into the next room, the frigidarium. A dome rose over the large, deep pool, and windows high in the walls let in shafts of light, shimmering on the water. He tossed the towel onto a bench, held his breath, and plunged into the freezing water.
The shock of the cold consumed him for an exhilarating instant. He rose, gasping, and slicked back his hair, wishing the water could wash away his fruitless longing for Volusia.
Chapter 20
Volusiawokeinasoft bed. For the first time in weeks, there was no smell of a campfire or snuffling of animals or hard ground beneath her…or Max’s arms around her. The bed linens smelled of lavender, and the house was blissfully quiet.
For a moment, she was disoriented, thinking herself back in her house in Narbo. Then, as she sat up and squinted around the half-lit room, she remembered. Max had brought her home yesterday.
It was strange to wake alone after so long by his side. She felt a tug of longing for the steady comfort of his presence, but shook it off. She could dwell on her feelings for him later, but for now, she had a mission.
She swung her legs out of bed and wrapped a shawl around her shoulders. Her trunk rested against the wall of her bedroom. Glabrio’s men had delivered it when bringing the news of Volusia’s apparent death, and her parents had stowed it in her old bedroom without touching it.
She unfastened the metal clasp and heaved the lid open. She sifted through layers of clothes, shoes, hair ornaments, cosmetics, and other personal effects, which all now seemed like relics of another life.
In the middle, wrapped in a square of fabric, she found the tablet with her only evidence against Petronax. She remembered giving this to Iris when they were packing to leave Narbo. Another pang of bittersweet sadness passed through her. She missed Iris, but hoped she’d found a new life for herself with her family in Gaul.
She opened the tablet to ensure it hadn’t been damaged in the journey, then laid it on her bed while she dressed and brushed her hair, braiding it as best she could. She would need to find another maid soon, but she feared no one could replace Iris.
Volusia took the tablet and went to her stepfather’s study. He often woke early to handle correspondence before breakfast.
As she expected, Rufus was seated behind his desk, stylus poised over a tablet. He glanced up when she crossed the threshold, his face brightening into a smile. “My dear, you look rested. Are you hungry? I can send for some breakfast.”
“Soon, Father, but there’s something I wanted to discuss with you first.” She sat in the chair opposite his desk and slid the tablet toward him. “This tablet contains evidence of Avitus’s suspicions against Petronax. That he was overtaxing the population and pocketing the province’s income for his own gain.”
Rufus frowned and picked up the tablet, squinting at the barely-there words. “I see.”
“Yesterday you said you wanted to see the men who did this brought to justice. Will you help me bring this evidence against Petronax?”
His frown deepened. “Certainly I’ll see the centurion and those who followed his orders dismissed from the army in disgrace. But bringing charges of murdering a governor against a legionary commander is quite a different matter. There is still a civil war going on. Petronax has a whole legion of men loyal to him. If he decided to take up arms against the Republic and join Sextus Pompeius, it could go very badly.”
Volusia leaned forward. “But I have evidence of his treachery.”
Rufus set the tablet down. “You have some partially-erased speculation. I’m afraid this will not be seen as solid proof.”
Volusia clasped her hands together, fingers twisting. “Isn’t the fact that Petronax ordered me killed proof that he was up to something?”
Her stepfather’s lips tightened. “Petronax will deny giving such an order. The centurion will take the blame.”
In a surge of frustration, she rose to her feet and paced the small length of the study. “So you’re saying I have nothing. My husband was murdered, and you think I should let the killer get away with it?”
