A sick feeling sank his gut. He’d be here paying off bit by bit for years. He slid a few coins back into his purse for partial rent and food for the month, and pushed the remainder toward the clerk.
“Is this enough to buy me a month without your guardians?”
“Mater, we can’t stay here.” The apartment door clattered against the wall as Felix burst inside.
Mater and the girls startled from where they’d been chattering and paring their fingernails with the kitchen knives. If he wasn’t short on money, he’d be willing to bet they were newly sharpened.
“Felix!” Mater straightened and crossed the room toward him, arms outstretched for a hug.
“The creditors met me today. I had to give them nearly everything.” Felix lowered his voice as she drew him into a quick embrace. “They threatened the girls if I cannot pay the rest.”
Mater drew back, her smile tight. “We will speak of this later.” Her gaze darted toward the girls and back to him.
“It cannot wait until later. If the girls are in danger, they need to know.”
“What danger?” Cassia appeared at Mater’s elbow, brown eyes large and serious.
“The creditors are still being a bit of a bother,” Mater explained in an oddly soothing tone.
Felix crossed his arms. “Threatening to sell the girls is a far cry worse thana bit of a bother.”
A small hand wedged itself into the knot of his folded arms, searching for his hand. “I could tell them Felicia’s bald.”
Felix took Oppia’s hand and gave it a squeeze, his youngest sister never failing to bring a smile. “If ever there was a time for that, Oppia, it would be now.”
“What can we do to help?” Felicia slanted a mischievous glance at their youngest sister. “I mean, if we cannot sell Oppia right away.”
“Mater!”
Mater placed a calming hand atop Oppia’s head and lifted her chin to Felix. “Have you spoken to Jovan about this?”
Felix shrugged. “At the beginning, yes. He knows I’m desperate to repay Pater’s debts. He hired me out of pity, and I doubt they can afford to pay me more. Blandus Albus made him sell several of their best gladiators recently. It smells of money trouble.” He dropped onto a stool and ran a hand through his hair. “Doesn’t everything?” The downturn of Rome’s economy was not surprising, given the evacuation of the emperor.
“We can bring our extra clothes, and furniture and things, to the secondhand shop,” Cassia suggested. Sensible as always, that one. “It’s close, and we know the owner. Mater brought them food when his wife was ill. He’ll help us.”
“Oh, I love that shop!” Oppia bounced on her toes. “They had a necklace there last week and it had a beetle stuck in glass!”
“Sounds... lovely.” Felix scratched his head. “And I’ll speak with the landlord. Perhaps we can move to a higher room. We can’t afford ground level anymore. If he agrees, it will mean you four moving the few things we can’t sell.”
Mater gave a single nod.
Oppia stilled. “We can’t leave. How will Pater know where to find us when he comes home?”
Felix took a breath, but Mater beat him to a response. “He will find us, dearest. Never fear.”
Not the response he would have given. “Let’s sort through all we can tonight then.”
IX
21 NOVEMBER, AD 403
“Go get a drink.”
Ignacio barked the command and all the fighting pairs of gladiatrices broke apart. Adel’s wooden rudis hit the dirt in a puff of dust. She gripped her knees, breathing hard as the others headed toward the fountain at the edge of the courtyard. The break had not come a moment too soon. With each strike her injured arm had begun to throb, a heartbeat that shot jarring pain to her bones. She scooped up the sword and dropped it into a rack before angling for the stone fountain at the edge of the courtyard. Hanging back at the edge of the group, she propped her hands on her hips and waited her turn. The air was cool and crisp, and she tilted her face to the sun, relishing the mix of the two. The fountain cleared and Adel rested her hands on the smooth stone lip, then ducked her whole head under. In an instant, the shock of cool water brought her home, running over forested hills, leaping into the shadows of a cold river in the heat of summer, water closing overhead, muffling her sisters’ laughter as they leaped in beside her.
A heavy hand pressed the back of her head, pushing her forehead to the bottom of the fountain. She rammed an elbow backward, making contact somewhere that made the hand disappear. She jerked upright, swinging before she could see clearly. The hand caught her wrist, staying the blow as laughter erupted.
“Come now, it was only a joke.” The words struck her ears in Visigoth instead of Latin, carried by a voice like a mine. Deep and cold. Wulfula raised an arm across his dark eyes as if to shield his face as she spun.
