Blood of a Gladiator - Ashley Gardner Page 0,44

name in my head.

I followed Gallus as he wandered from room to room, looking over walls, studying cracks in the ceiling, clicking his tongue in disapproval. The silence of the place unnerved me. I was used to the laughter of men and women, squeals of pleasure real or feigned, voices arguing, joking, or simply conversing.

The house was empty, bedding gone, no possessions left behind. Someone had cleared it out quickly. I thought of Lucia, terrified, fleeing the city, carrying little. What had happened to Floriana’s things, and her money?

These questions flitted through my head as I followed Gallus about. Toting the box, watching Gallus test the solidness of a door frame or examine cracks in the ceiling, brought back a long-forgotten time. I was a youth again, listening to my master growl, “Hand me that leveler, and be quick about it.”

He’d been impatient, brusque, hard, and brilliant. Dead now, buried under one of his own creations, and I’d been sentenced to the games for it.

Gallus finished his tour of Floriana’s domain and gazed down the hall from the front door. “Much work to be done, but it can be managed. Livius might want the whole thing pulled down, but I think the walls are sound.”

I agreed. If the beams were reinforced, the roof could be saved as well.

“Thank you for your assistance, Leonidas.” Gallus retrieved the box from my big hands. “Was I right that you are a gladiator?”

“Was.”

“Ah. What will you do now that you no longer bash other gladiators?”

“Bodyguard,” I said at once.

“Pity. If you’ve been trained by a master builder, I might have a place for you, depending on what you learned from him. You’ve helped me well today, and you know about the business. Consider it.”

I could only stare at him. Gallus had no duplicity in his eyes, and he threw out the suggestion offhand. Very few talked to me as he’d done today, about ordinary things, builder’s things. We’d fallen easily into conversation when he’d asked my opinion on the straightness of a wall, or cracks in the floor.

He might only want me to fetch and carry for him, but the thought of working once more on a builder’s site was mixed. On the one hand, I longed for it. On the other, it terrified me.

Gallus waited for my answer, so I nodded. “I will consider.”

“Excellent. Good day, Leonidas. You’ll find my shop on the Clivus Pullius.”

He waved and breezed out, leaving me alone and troubled.

I pondered what to do next. I’d instructed Celnus not to let Priscus or his son leave his house without summoning me. Celnus did not like me, it was apparent, but he did see that I was useful in protecting his master.

I’d not be protecting him, however, if Regulus whipped up the rumor that I’d murdered Floriana. I needed a way to prove without doubt I did not.

Thoughts spun in my head, and no solutions put themselves forward. Regulus had derided my new life—So this is freedom? he’d said.

At the ludus, things had been simple. I trained, ate, slept, did what I was told, and was allowed out on a limited basis, and then only after I’d proved my reliability.

Now I had to worry about too many things at once—who had murdered Floriana, and would I be blamed? Who’d endangered Priscus, and would they try again? How could I, one man, keep him safe? If Nero was so worried, why not send a contingent of Praetorians to watch his every move?

Cassia had told me to ask questions, but ask them of whom? I wanted to hunt up the vigile who’d invaded our house and demand he tell me what he knew—he must have hovered near Floriana’s that morning for a reason.

I also remembered the Praetorian Guard I’d spoken to on the Palatine—Severus Tullius. He’d been friendly, and he might know details about Floriana’s murder, or be able to find out. The Praetorians closely watched all that happened in Rome in order to keep the imperial family safe.

After this inner debate, which came to no conclusion, I decided to walk through the rain to the Aventine, taking streets that skirted the Oppian and Caelian hills, past the great valley of the Circus Maximus, and to the narrow streets at the bottom of the Aventine Hill. I regretted not bringing the cloak now as I constantly wiped rain out of my eyes.

When I reached a fountain where three bronze fish shot water into a broad pool, I turned to a tiny lane