Felix was late for the evening meal by the time he entered the insula courtyard. Darkness had fallen over the city some hours ago. He hadn’t been able to see Adel again. She’d gone with the gladiatrices to eat, and he’d been called to give an account of the medical spending to Jovan. Any further conversation would have to wait.
He took the stairs two at a time and was breathless by the time he reached the apartment on the top floor.
The voices inside were a pot bubbling over, too quick to catch before they were spilling into the hall, wrapping around him in the form of his youngest sister.
“Felix, I’m so glad you’re home!” Oppia threw her arms around his waist. “We’re celebrating—do you know why? Guess! I bet you can’t guess.” She grabbed his arm and tugged his head closer. “Felicia thinks it’s because her blade seller got a job making swords for the ludi, but it’s really because Pater got a job!”
So much for guessing. He tried to untangle the stream of words as Oppia dragged him inside. Pater got a job, and... Ilias was working for the ludi? He’d been successful, then, pitching his collapsing gladius idea to Jovan. A measure of relief accompanied the news. Would that mean fewer injuries, fewer deaths in the future? And Pater. What new venture had he found? Tension accompanied that news but there was no time to wrestle it out. As soon as he stepped into the room, Mater pushed to her feet from where she and the rest of the family lounged around the dining table, chattering.
“We saved you some.”
“Don’t worry about it, Mater. I’ll get it.”
She waved him to the table. “Nonsense. You sit and listen to your pater’s news.”
Cassia and Felicia squished together so Felix could join them at the low table. He nudged a flattened cushion closer and sat.
“You found work?”
“I heard of a need to repair the public latrines around the entertainment district.” Pater slid a cup toward him. “With the games approaching and the emperor’s visit imminent, there is a rush to prepare the city for his arrival. And... perhaps entice him to return permanently.”
Felix nodded and took a drink. He’d noticed a flurry of trash haulers and building scrubbers, at work in the frigid temperatures. Perhaps they weren’t exactlyfrigid, but the cold, dampness of December in Rome had made him miss the drier warmth of Alexandria more than once lately.
“There was a failure in the plumbing from the latrines near the amphitheatre to the sewer, and no one in the city has the exact drainage tiles needed—except for us.” The way he saidus, with a smile that was both welcoming and forgiving, sent a bar of remorse to Felix’s chest. They’d made progress this morning chipping at the strain in their relationship. But how did one make up missing years and broken promises in a matter of hours?
“The Lord always provides,” Mater said, setting a plate of congealed lentils and bread in front of Felix. How was she always so certain? Of Pater’s goodness, of God’s working. Both, when all evidence pointed to the contrary. Her unwavering faith convicted him.
Felix let out a breath. It seemed too good to be true, and he was hesitant to trust it, even as he wished for the weight of worry to tumble from his shoulders, landing at his feet in a cloud of dust.
“So, the creditors...” He hardly dared to hope it.
“Won’t be bothering us anymore—or at least, not after I get the down payment for the project.” Pater tilted his head. “You don’t look happy about it.”
Felix shook his head. “It simply... feels too good to be true.”
“This means you can leave the ludus behind. Work with me until another opportunity arises,” Pater continued.
So that was what theushad been about. An instant uneasiness struck. How could he leave the ludus now? He’d rescued two fighters but therewere dozens of others. Not to mention Adel. She’d only just begun to trust him. Could he simply leave her?
No. Not without carrying the regret with him for the rest of his life.
“I can’t, Pater,” he said quietly.
Pater’s salted eyebrows drew together. “What do you mean?”
His mouth went dry and he pushed away from the table, his thoughts beginning to tumble, pick up speed and shape. “Walk with me?”
They left the apartment, descending the stairs in silence and pausing in the courtyard near the fountain. Felix shared everything. The threat to Rome, the coming games, Telemachus’s plans to return as many Visigoth captives to Alaric as possible. His part in it all.
“And I do not know if I can...” He looked up. “How can I leave them, Pater?”
“I have not asked you why you returned to the ludus because I feared your answer.” Pater blew out a long breath when he finished. “But this sets those fears to rest—and unearths others. You’ve got yourself in a dangerous tangle, son, and if Jovan finds out... he will not be happy, Blandus Albus either, and that is putting it mildly. They are not men to be crossed.”
“In my place, would you abandon your position and leave them to their fate?”
Pater’s lips tugged upward. “Your mater would have a thing or two to say if I did.”
Felix gave a half-hearted smile.
