He gave me a salute and strolled away to resume his duties, chuckling as he went.
The sun was setting by the time I spied Cassia walking sedately along the outside wall. She hadn’t exited by the main gate, which I had been glaring at, but a side door, probably shown out by the servants of the house.
I pushed myself from the wall and strode to her, which earned me a surprised look.
“I thought you’d have gone,” Cassia said as we started down the hill. “Or would be rushing to make certain Priscus was well.”
“Not until he let you go.” I was relieved to see her palla was as neatly placed as ever, her face serene. “What happened?”
“Nothing. He sang me several ballads, and we discussed them. When he grew bored, he rang for a servant who showed me out.”
I released a breath. We tramped down the hill, skirting the Forum Romanum and its crowds. We moved past vendors and shops on the way to the base of the Quirinal, but when Cassia wanted to linger to look over wares, I pulled her on.
I did not stop until we climbed up to our small apartment and I shut the door.
After the lofty domus of Nero, the apartment felt tiny and closed in, but I preferred it. A small space I could call my own, where I could shut out the world, suited me better than soaring courtyards and vast fountains.
Cassia unwound her cloak and hung it on its peg, adjusting her stolla on her shoulders. “If you are worried that Nero demanded I ... service him, he did not.” She cleared her throat, uncomfortable. “I believe he was happy to find an audience not impatient with his offering. And he is quite good.”
“Is he?” The release of being home, with Cassia safe, on top of the shock of Floriana’s death, and Nero’s strange request that we look after Priscus, was making me sleepy again. It was a reaction I often had when faced with too many worries. “I thought the pieces long and tedious. The one in Greek I didn’t understand at all.”
“He is skilled—has been well trained. I believe he’d be much happier as a musician than the princeps. The songs are complex and take a schooled ear to understand.”
I sat down heavily on a stool and removed my sandals, which were full of grit. I wanted another bath.
“And you have a schooled ear?”
“My mistress sent a tutor to teach me music when I was very young, so that I could play and entertain the family. Made a savings on hiring musicians. The music master not only taught me to play but gave me lessons on music history and theory. Pythagoras and Aristotle and so forth. I found it fascinating.”
I felt like a mongrel dog who’d been placed in a kennel with a well-bred hunter or a sleek, exotic cat. I wondered if our benefactor, whoever he might be, had planned this, and was amused by it.
Instead of bathing or sleeping, I led Cassia to the Esquiline Hill to check on Priscus. He was home, Celnus told us when he came outside to speak to us, tending Decimus. Neither father nor son had been out since we’d returned from Ostia.
Celnus refused to let us in, but he agreed with us that Priscus and Decimus should stay indoors and safe. Priscus himself hardly wanted to risk Decimus’s life again, Celnus said, and so was keeping his son home with him.
Short of forcing my way in, I had to be satisfied with this. I bade Celnus not to let them stir, or to send for me to guard them if they insisted. Celnus answered with a curl of his lip, but I saw that he was worried enough to do so.
When we reached home again, my fatigue swamped me, and I sought my bed. I noticed, as I laid down again, that my bed had grown more comfortable. I had a warmer blanket, a cushion for my head, and a small table on which to set a cup of wine.
I was heavily asleep when Cassia yelped in fear.
I came off my pallet as an intruder pushed his way past the door and had him by the neck in the matter of a few breaths. He poked a short sword into my ribs, the scratch stinging my skin.
The next instant, he landed against the wall, and the sword was in my hand, aimed at his throat.