barely heard him. Iugula! Iugula! they bellowed, urging me to finish him.
“Do it now,” Tullius said furiously.
He’d face torture and execution if I spared him. His name and his family, whoever they were, would be dragged through scandal and shame. Tullius’s body would be broken, his death not pretty. As a citizen he’d avoid the more bizarre forms of execution in the arena, but he’d die a traitor. Nero would not be kind.
My sword hesitated. No more death, I’d vowed. And yet, I’d found that death and violence did not stop with the games.
Regulus was right—we were gladiators. Dealers in death. It followed us.
I firmed my grip, ready to strike the killing blow. At the same time, Cassia, who’d dropped her bag again, gave a little cry and fell to her knees.
I jerked my head up as Cassia landed on her hands, gasping for breath. Gallus hurried to her, while Nero took a few steps back, as though fearing she might contaminate him.
Tullius began to laugh. “It seems I miscalculated. My misfortune.”
For a moment, I could only frown in confusion. Then I abruptly recalled the wine brought to us by the servant as we waited for Nero to summon us. I’d been too restless to partake, and so had Gallus. Cassia was the only one who’d drunk.
Tullius must have poisoned the wine. He’d tried to kill us before we could reveal his crimes. No wonder he’d been so surprised to see us when he’d entered Nero’s chamber.
This rushed through my head as Cassia began to convulse.
She was the one person in all the world who’d steadied me in my uncertainty, who understood we had to survive on our own, and who’d gone at that survival with hard-headed resolution. Without Cassia, I’d have swum in circles and sunk, not even understanding I was drowning. She’d been the rock that had held me up without me realizing it.
Now she would die.
“Why?” I roared.
Tullius abruptly ended his laughter, his fury surging. “Because he killed my father, that’s why!” His glare cut to Nero. “He decided my father supported Britanicus and tried to block his way to the throne. Brought my father to trial on trumped-up charges, when my father had done nothing. A misunderstood conversation, a rival happy to ruin my family. I was already in the legions, a long way from home, in bloody Damascus, and I couldn’t get back to stop any of it.”
Tullius gasped for breath, his eyes fixed in his rage, as though he’d forgotten I gripped him, ready to end his life. “I had a new purpose—work through the ranks and become a Praetorian Guard. I changed my name in case he got any ideas to slay me as well.” He pointed a shaking finger at Nero. “The money my mother left me helped me plan. I didn’t need it for myself—it all went to my goal. No one pays attention to the guard at the end of the room—I heard him talking one day about Priscus and the strange bargain that Nero dies if Priscus does.”
His laughter returned, rasping in his throat. “Terrified him. Easy to take advantage of such a thing—I make certain Priscus dies, and then watch while Nero is assassinated. I wouldn’t have to do a thing! A whore and a fool of a patrician and his insipid son are small sacrifices compared to what he did to me. So is your slave.” Tullius shifted his gaze to me, savage triumph in his eyes. “You should have died from that poison, Leonidas. Remember that when you weep at her funeral.”
Spittle flecked his lips—his rage was complete. So was mine. His lack of remorse about Cassia sealed his fate.
I tightened my grip and plunged the sword into Tullius’s throat.
Blood poured over my hand, hot and wet. The wrath left Tullius’s expression, replaced by gratitude, even relief. Then his eyes emptied, and he died.
Nero began to speak. I had no idea what he said. I flung Tullius’s body and sword aside and ran to where Gallus held Cassia. She shivered, eyes closed, face waxen.
I lifted Cassia from Gallus and cradled her close. “Fetch that wine,” I barked at Gallus. “Hurry.”
Gallus, understanding, stumbled from me and rushed to the door. The guards tried to stop him, but a command from Nero made them part.
I turned with Cassia in my arms, looking for a safe place to lay her down.
Nero was clapping his hands, issuing orders to slaves rushing into and out of the room, a few dragging