the few senators to be. I suppose it was feared that I’d destroy Priscus simply because my uncle favored him. I have explained that I don’t care about him one way or another—he is rather dull, isn’t he? Stays at home tending his garden. His son runs his mother’s business from Halicarnassus, and the lad cares about numbers. Not drama or music, not even politics.” The disgust Nero exuded was acute.
“You have no idea who threatens you about him?” I asked. “It is not his son?”
“I have just said the son has no interest in politics,” Nero snapped. “He is weak. I have him watched. See how easily he was captured?” He shuddered. “I want that never to happen again. Priscus came too close to being killed in that adventure, and he’d have been grieved to lose his son. Perhaps to the point of taking his own life, which would not help me. Thanks to you, both father and son are well.”
I thought of how the pirates who’d ransomed Priscus’s son had been found slain to the man. “Did you have his captors put to death?”
Nero looked uncomfortable. “Did you expect them to be allowed to live? I had them put to the question first, of course, but none knew the name of the person who hired them. They communicated by letter, and would receive a cut of the ransom. So you see, there is someone in the shadows, a powerful man—or a woman, perhaps. Never trust a woman, Leonidas. They can appear weak, while at the same time they are cunning, knowing how to goad men into doing terrible deeds for them.”
Nero’s mother, Agrippina, had been a woman of great ambition. She was now dead. Nero’s first wife was likewise dead, and a new one had slid into her place.
He swept his eagle gaze to Cassia. “What do you think? Who should I hunt for? Man or woman?”
I did not understand how Nero expected Cassia to have an answer for him, but she replied with confidence.
“It is not a woman.”
“Oh?” Nero’s haughty anger faded into curiosity. “Why not?”
“A woman can command men, yes, but often the men in her power fall out over rivalry for the woman’s attention. If it were a woman, you’d likely have found out who by now—one of those jealous rivals would have told you. A careful man, however, if he keeps to himself, might not be discovered.”
Nero studied her thoughtfully. “I had not considered it that way, but I believe you are right. Men can conjure jealousy as well, of course.” He flicked his attention to me. “I am certain Leonidas has had men coming to blows over him.”
“But Leonidas is a fighter, a simple man,” Cassia said. “Not a commander.”
“Our servants always see so clearly,” Nero said to me. “She is right, of course. Very well, then it is a man I need to find.” He let out a breath. “Which is unfortunately proving most difficult. This fellow must have loyalty and wealth. The only reason I don’t haul in every man of that description and have them beaten until they confess is that this person seems fixated on Priscus. They care not what I do, not how much money I spend on sandals or wall paintings, as long as that bloody Priscus is well.” Nero’s derision returned. “That is why you must protect him with your life, Leonidas. If he is hurt, I will make sure you die before I do.”
I believed him. I thought over what Lucia had told us, that Floriana had wanted to kill me so I would not guard Priscus on his way to Ostia.
That information, coupled with Nero’s story, made me decide to keep silent on Lucia’s assertion that there was a plot to kill Nero. Whoever had killed Floriana did want Nero dead, but in a roundabout way that Nero was already aware of. If I saved Priscus, Nero lived.
I bowed low. “I will see that Priscus is well, and serve you.” I didn’t have much choice.
For the rest of the visit, Nero changed the subject entirely and asked my opinion of the painting of the charioteers, and which team I supported. “Greens,” I said. I knew that Nero favored them.
My answer pleased him. Even gladiators, especially seasoned ones, were allowed to watch the chariot races, and so Nero took pleasure in recounting meets we’d seen, including the all-day races he sponsored. Cassia stood in silent patience—I wondered if she’d ever attended a race in her