house.”
“Puzzling. When you find him again, you must not let him go until he has a better explanation for himself.”
I intended to squeeze every bit of truth out of Avitus, even if he had nothing to do with Floriana or the attacks on me.
“Shall we have a repast?” Cassia reached for her cloak. “We can think better when we are not hungry.”
She’d said “we” again. I decided, as I wrapped my cloak around me and ushered her out, that I did not mind this. I’d always been alone. Now I was part of “us.”
For the next two days, I searched for Avitus with no luck. Even positioning myself outside the house where his squad lodged did not help. He seemed to have taken some leave.
Likewise, I hunted for Lucia, or at least the woman we thought was Lucia. Why she’d returned to Rome when she could have been safe in Capua, I didn’t know. Then again, the woman might not be Lucia at all. Whoever she was, she kept her distance.
I also saw no sign of Regulus. Aemil had a rigid training schedule that even the primus palus had to follow. From early morning to late afternoon most days, Regulus would be locked in practice or helping to train other fighters.
In the meantime, a man came from Priscus’s house, delivering the gifts he’d generously bestowed on us. The messenger obviously thought his master mad, but he left us the box and departed quickly. I wondered why the things had taken days to reach us, but of course, we were not important people in Priscus’s life. Perhaps Celnus had delayed the delivery, maybe trying to dissuade Priscus into giving the things to us at all.
Cassia expressed no such doubts. She delighted in the earrings, and we set the gold-studded bronze hand on the shelf alongside my rudis.
Using the excuse of thanking Priscus for the gifts, Cassia decided to visit his domus and have her talk with Kephalos. She returned home that afternoon, a smile on her wind-chilled face.
“Kephalos is a snake,” she said as she patted her already neat hair into place. “He and Celnus have been taking money from poor Priscus for years, even before his wife passed away.”
“How do you know this? Did you see the ledgers?”
“Unfortunately, no. Kephalos keeps them hidden, and I knew within moments that he would never show them to me. But I learned much by flattering his intelligence, and he revealed things without meaning to. Celnus is a harder nut, but even he let down his guard. Priscus’s wife trusted both of them too much, although they were more careful when she was alive and overseeing the accounts. Priscus does not bother, the foolish man.”
None of this surprised me much, though I admired how Cassia had pried the information out of the two disdainful servants. “Priscus likes to remind people he is a soldier with no head for finance,” I said. “An easy man to take advantage of.”
“He is kind as well.” Cassia settled herself at the table and opened her tablets. Their number had grown, and I suspected she spent plenty of our earnings on them. “Kephalos told me that long ago, Priscus set a boy in the household free and placed him with a family to raise. Said he saw great potential in him.”
“What happened to this boy?” I asked with interest. Sometimes a kind deed could go wrong, the recipient nursing resentment for years. Or those jealous of the recipient might harbor ill will, maybe enough to pay pirates to kidnap a man’s son or make attempts on that man’s life.
“Kephalos doesn’t know. Apparently Priscus doesn’t know what happened to the boy either. Whether he lived or died is a mystery. Priscus doesn’t even know the name of the family who took him, according to Kephalos. He did everything through an intermediary.”
I thought it might be worth finding out why Priscus had done such a great act of kindness, though it wasn’t unusual for a patrician. They would free a slave or adopt a son of another family simply to show their benevolence. The slave or son would become a client or heir, obligated to the patrician for life. The most unusual thing about this boy was that Priscus hadn’t boasted about it.
“Did you tell Priscus that Kephalos was stealing from him?”
“Not today. I spoke only to Kephalos and Celnus. You said Priscus suspected it, and he does nothing. As I say, he’s kind.”
“To the point of madness.”
“Perhaps.”
I leaned on my