the city, while others had been arrested for crimes real and imagined, and executed.
“Why is Priscus still alive then?” I watched Cassia ladle out the lentil stew and lay the bread in the middle of the table.
“Who can say? I’ve heard little about him except that he has vast wealth and spends much time reading and gardening. He did not have a lot of power in the senate, though many friends.”
And he had money, I finished silently. A man would be respected for that alone, if only in the hope that some of his wealth would fall to those ingratiating themselves with him.
“Maybe we should have asked for a higher price,” I half joked as I seated myself and lifted a spoon.
Cassia rewarded me with a fleeting smile. She quickly lost it and retreated to the other side of the table. This time she didn’t wait to be asked to join in the meal, but she did not take her first bite until I’d shoved some stew into my mouth.
“No garum today,” I said after I swallowed.
Another brief smile, then Cassia nervously opened her tablet. “A savings.”
I noisily ate stew, mopping it up with bread. I found a pebble inside the bread, larger than most, and spit it onto the floor. The grit from grinding mills didn’t always come out of the flour before the bread went into the oven.
“I need to pay Floriana for Lucia,” I said after the silence had stretched. “I’ve been to her twice.”
I thought to set her at her ease, but she gave me another worried look. “I see.”
“Though most nights I only sleep.”
Many believed gladiators lived to enjoy sticking themselves into any woman or man available, but we spent the bulk of our time training or recovering from injuries. Carnal relief was an occasional indulgence, not a way of life, and most of us had our favorites for that. When I was younger I hadn’t been as discriminate, but as I matured, I kept to the woman I liked. Marcianus had explained to me about catching diseases from being too promiscuous, and I needed to be strong to stay alive in the arena. Also, Aemil would turn out a man too sick to fight.
I don’t know if Cassia understood but she bent her head over her tablet and ceased speaking.
I left the apartment after our supper and walked to Floriana’s to see how that lady fared. Young Marcia was there to care for her, but Lucia had gone out.
Floriana was better, Marcia told me, though weak. Marcia still didn’t understand how Floriana had eaten the rhubarb leaves, because no one had found any remains of them in the house.
I looked into Floriana’s cell to see her sleeping, and snoring, and departed. “Tell her I’ll pay her when I return from Ostia.”
Marcia only nodded and went back to Floriana.
Rome was shutting down for the night, the sun setting. Shops had closed long before, and even the baths were emptying now. At night all would grow pitch dark, and the wise were indoors by then. Shopkeepers would stay awake, awaiting deliveries, which were only allowed at night, and the rest of us would sleep until dawn.
I heard footsteps behind me as I made my way to what was now my home. I tensed as the footfalls matched mine and kept pace with me—this was not someone simply going the same way as I did in the dusk.
I turned a corner and halted, putting myself against a wall. My follower came around the same corner but stopped before he blundered through and sprang my trap.
He was a man, but that was all I could see in the deepening darkness. He wore a cloak, a fold of which was draped over his head, like a priest, but I doubted he was one. A priest had no reason to follow me so stealthily.
With a roar, I charged him. If he were a robber or assassin, I’d make him fight for his spoils.
The man spun to meet me, competent on his feet. I had no weapon, but I knew how to fight without one, my fists and kicks as powerful as any sword blow.
I swung my giant fist, but hit empty air. The man melted back into the shadows, avoiding my attack, and then he fled. I heard his boots click on the stones, the sound dissipating.
I shook out my hand, puzzled. Why follow me and then run? Maybe he’d thought he’d found an easy mark to rob and then