Blood of a Gladiator - Ashley Gardner Page 0,49

annoyance that I’d been called in before him. Taking poison meant for another would make a person feel he had certain privileges.

“You believe he was saved by the gods as well,” I said.

“I truly do, Leonidas. I am not the most pious of men—I saw too much in the battlefield to believe that supplication to the gods is helpful. While we believe Mars or Jupiter to be on our side, those we fight think the same gods are helping them. Both can’t be true. But what besides the gods can explain my good fortune?”

“Your son was kidnapped,” I pointed out. “Hardly good fortune.”

“But he was not murdered, or even much hurt. Whoever was after my money obtained none of it. The second casket was delivered to this house yesterday.”

I blinked. “Someone returned it?”

“Yes. Which reinforces my belief in intervention by the divine. Why else would the casket have been found by an honest person willing to send it back to me anonymously, asking no reward? I must conclude that Fortuna favors me.”

It seemed she did. I was no stranger to luck—a misstep or a change in wind could mean the difference between me winning a fight or falling—but I also knew that months and years of training beat luck every time.

“I was there to make sure you weren’t hurt and your son was returned,” I said. “Another stroke of luck?”

“It seems so. I thought of you as soon as Celnus and Kephalos insisted I be guarded. How fortunate, was it not, that you’d been freed the day before? Kephalos went to the Forum and found Cassia right away.”

Cassia had told me she’d heard via servants’ gossip that Priscus wanted to hire me, and had gone searching for Kephalos. Good fortune again?

Or was there another hand? Someone had decided to free me and sponsor me while keeping their identity secret. Was that person also watching out for Priscus? And why?

My head was beginning to ache.

“At this moment, I can only be grateful. Decimus is home and safe.” Priscus’s smile lit the gray day.

“Should you stay in Rome?” I thought of Cassia wondering why Priscus did not retreat to the countryside. “Those wishing to harm you or your son might try again.”

Priscus returned to his plants, scissors poised. “We seem to be protected no matter where we live, so it makes no difference. Of course, I am keeping my son close to home.” He shot me a wry glance. “Which is difficult, as he is robust. Decimus already speaks of returning to Antioch and continuing expanding our business there. I might accompany him when he does. This is a big house, and lonely.” He trailed off, the last word quiet.

He missed his wife acutely, I could see. Before I could offer sympathy, he brightened, and handed his basket and shears to the now-awake gardener.

“Come. I want to reward you for your help, yours and Cassia’s.”

He headed across the garden, and I followed. “You’ve already paid us,” I said.

“I know, but I want to give you something special.” Priscus led me to the tablinium, his office, which we reached by stepping up from the garden and inside.

A cabinet filled with small items, some of which flashed gold in the dim light, held seniority on the longest wall. I saw ivory vessels, figures carved in bright blue stone, thin gold bracelets, Greek pots with red and black paintings, a bronze sculpture of a young man plucking a thorn from his foot, and strange pair of flat hands made of bronze, studded with tiny gold ingots.

“Etruscan,” Priscus said when I bent to gaze at them. “Quite ancient, I’ve been told. As ancient as the Egyptians, though I am not certain I believe it.”

He reached in and brought out a pair of gold loops, thin and exquisitely made. “These are Egyptian. Give them to Cassia. They will look pretty on her.”

I stared at him in bafflement. Cassia was a slave, and most men didn’t reward slaves with earrings of beaten gold.

“And for you.” He brought out one of the bronze hands. “Why don’t you take this? You are as intrigued by it as I am. I’ll always have the second one.”

His generosity was astonishing. For a moment, I couldn’t speak, the skeptical side of me wondering what he’d want from me in return.

Priscus simply waited, no guile in his eyes. I realized he’d be offended if I refused, so I accepted and thanked him. Priscus sent for Celnus and told him to wrap the gifts carefully