of exercises a gladiator would do. I lifted various weighted stones, which had been carved to be easy to grip. I followed this with kicks and lunges, plus arm swings I’d done to warm my body before sword training. Younger men studied me carefully, and when I quit the yard, began to copy my movements.
I handed my strigil to another attendant, who used it to scrape sweat and sand from my body, then I plunged straight into the cold water without bothering with the hot or tepid. This bathhouse had a room even hotter than the caldarium, where people went for extra sweating to cleanse their bodies, but the heat of that made me too sleepy.
The cold bath, on the other hand reinvigorated me. The water in the large pools was constantly replenished by a fountain flowing out of the wall in the shape of a fish’s gaping mouth. The excess overflowed the sides, running down into the drains to the great system of sewers beneath the city.
When I emerged from the bath, I noticed I’d drawn a crowd there too. Pretending to ignore the spindly men who watched me, I dried myself, dressed, and departed.
I’d once used a niche for my clothes instead of paying an attendant to care for them, and an enterprising thief had stolen every stitch, knowing that the used garments of a gladiator would fetch a huge price. My friend Xerxes had rescued me, arriving with a tunic in response to my summons, so I wouldn’t have to trudge naked across the cold city. He’d laughed so hard he could barely walk as we’d made our way back to the ludus.
I missed Xerxes with an acuteness that jabbed my gut.
As I emerged onto the street, a woman ran straight into me. She was wrapped in a cloak against the chilling wind, and she clutched at me, out of breath. A fold of cloak fell, revealing overly bright red hair.
“Lucia,” I said in surprise.
“Leonidas. I’ve been looking for you for days. You weren’t home.”
“Had to go to Ostia. Job.” Not unusual for me.
Lucia gulped a sob. “Floriana. She’s dead.”
Dead? I seized Lucia by the arm and pulled her with me down the hill and through the side street to my new abode. I tugged her inside.
“What happened?” I demanded as we climbed the stairs. “I thought Marcianus cured Floriana of the poison.”
Marcianus could work miracles. If he said the woman would recover, she should have.
“He did. She was healing.” We reached the apartment, which was empty, Cassia nowhere in sight. “She felt well enough to go out again. There was a fog, a heavy one—oh, five days ago. Someone stuck a knife into her. Leonidas, I’m so afraid.”
I sat down heavily. The morning we’d left Rome, six days ago, the fog had been dense, opaque, typical. “What happened? Who did this?”
Lucia hadn’t bothered with cosmetics today, and her face was blotchy, her eyes red-rimmed where they were usually lined with kohl. “They will kill me next. Where can I hide, Leonidas? You are free now. Take me away from here.” Her panic was true.
I grasped her wrist, trying to calm her. “Who are they? And why would anyone want to kill you?”
“Whores know secrets.” Lucia’s lips twisted. “At least, people think they do.”
“What secrets?”
Lucia pulled from my hold. “I don’t know. But they will think she told me. All the girls have fled. Marcia ran off to find that medicus of yours—I don’t know what good that will do her. I thought of you, but you weren’t here.”
She began to weep, sobs jerking her body. Lucia folded her arms over her stomach, trembling in her frayed linen gown.
I rose and drew her into my arms. Lucia did not embrace me but leaned against me, as though taking comfort in my strength.
Cassia found us like this, me stroking Lucia’s hair and trying to quiet her. Cassia set down the basket of bread and the clay pot that smelled of stew and turned to me inquisitively.
“This is Lucia,” I told her.
“Ah.” The word was quiet but held understanding.
Lucia jerked from me in alarm. When she saw Cassia she relaxed, as though dismissing her as unthreatening.
“Give Lucia some of the money,” I ordered. “She needs to leave Rome. Floriana is dead.”
Cassia made no move to obey. “Dead? But …”
“Stabbed. The morning we left. Lucia is afraid. She must go.”
Cassia regarded Lucia dubiously, and Lucia frowned. “Do not stand there gaping at your betters, girl,” Lucia snapped. “Do as he