Page 81 of Brother at Arms

I ignored Aemil, who came growling to meet me, Regulus and his usual glare, and the gladiators who’d known Xerxes gaping at Lucius in shock.

I passed them all to stride down the line of cells until I reached the one that had been mine. Regulus now slept in it, and he charged after me, demanding to know what I was doing.

I yanked open the cell’s door and went inside, halting to stare up at the ceiling. All the cells on this corridor were basically small vaults, and while the ceiling in this one didn’t soar, it was high enough for me to stand upright and reach my arms above my head.

The vaults were made of plain stone, hewn and fitted together by some long-ago slave. Xerxes had once sketched erotic figures on the ceiling above my bed, to startle me when I laid down to sleep. I could still hear his laughter ringing down the arcade.

Aemil had gouged out most of the drawings, telling me they hadn’t been meant for Regulus, who’d taken over the cell of the primus palus when I’d departed.

I stepped on top of the bunk and studied the faint markings that remained.

“Leonidas, get out of there before I pull your arms off,” Regulus growled. “And who is this man with Xerxes’s ugly face? If it’s his ghost, I expected it to smell better.”

Lucius laughed, an echo of Xerxes’s. Aemil and those who’d known Xerxes went still at the sound.

“Someone bring me a chisel,” I commanded.

No one moved. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cassia, who’d followed me into the cell, draw a breath to give orders, but before she could say anything, hurried footsteps sounded.

“Here.” Agapios pushed through the gladiators and handed me a chisel with a small hammer to go with it.

I took both with a nod of thanks, then I put the chisel next to the exaggerated naked male figure Xerxes had drawn and banged it into the stone.

Regulus snarled, and Aemil snapped out of his daze.

“If you bring my ludus down around us, you’ll pay for the rest of your life,” he threatened.

I continued to pound. Dust and stones rained onto the bed and the floor, driving Regulus and Aemil out of the cell. Cassia wound her cloak around her head and backed away but remained.

“What are you doing?” Lucius asked in curiosity from behind Aemil.

I didn’t spare breath to answer. My body was sore and exhausted from the poison and the struggle with Aulus, and only a strange fire drove me to carry out my task.

I found nothing behind the first stone, or the second, or the third. Regulus had just declared he would drag me out and beat me when the chisel went through mortar and into empty air.

Another rude figure, its lines almost gone, filled this stone, a drawing of a man doing impossible things with his own body. I cut through him, prying out the large chunk of stone with the iron chisel.

The stone came free. Five leather bags about the size of my palm fell from the opening behind it, the bags clinking as they landed on the bunk at my feet.

I leapt down and caught them up before Regulus could push in. Cassia managed to wedge her way next to me as I opened the bags.

Coins, many of them gold, lay inside, shining out at me in untarnished wonder.

“Oh,” Cassia whispered.

“That clever bastard,” Lucius said. “He left them to you, Leonidas, obviously.”

“He knew they’d be safe with me.” I closed the bags. “He didn’t realize I would be freed and leave the ludus behind.”

“Then they’re mine,” Regulus declared, blocking our way out. “This is my cell now.”

“You mean mine,” Aemil contradicted. “This is my ludus.”

I hugged the bags to my chest and shoved Regulus aside with one blow of my shoulder. Cassia hastened out through the hole I made.

“No.” I faced Aemil and spoke so only he would hear. “They belong to Marcella.”

Aemil glared at me a long moment, then he nodded. I left him resigned, Regulus enraged, and Agapios delighted, and led Cassia and Lucius back to the street.