Chapter VIII
VIII
THAT CONVERSATION HAD NOT GONE AS ANTICIPATED.
In truth, Felix wasn’t quite certain what he’d anticipated.
The threat to his life, yes. But the way she’d looked at him when he’d stepped too close?
The faint flicker of vulnerability and longing in her eyes that she had closed off just as quickly?
It was enough to make him push further. Ask questions he might not have found the courage to voice otherwise.
Anger had made her armor slip and he’d caught a glimpse of the pain beneath.
The longing for purpose, acceptance, belonging.
He’d never been able to leave a person in pain without trying to help.
Adelgard.
Felix let the name linger in his mind. It fit her. Lean and sharp. And something oddly alluring about it.
The guards unlocked the ludus gate and released Felix into the street earlier than normal.
Perhaps, at this odd time of day, he could make it home without the creditors accosting him.
The sun was still high, heat radiating from the stone buildings.
The warmth was welcome against the damp chill of winter in the air.
The gate shut at his heels with a solid thud.
Felix shot quick glances down both ends of the street.
Across the way, a giant monk spoke with a peddler, but nothing else of note.
Perhaps he could make it all the way home with his monthly pay before the creditors or their muscle intercepted.
He had every intention of paying off Pater’s debt, but if the creditors caught up with him first, they’d demand it all and he’d have nothing left to use for rent and food.
He set off, mentally mapping out a route to his family’s insula that wouldn’t take him through the more dangerous areas and also would be slightly different from yesterday’s route.
There weren’t a lot of options. Not that it would matter.
The creditors already knew where he lived.
Mater had resisted the idea of moving the last time he’d brought it up, and Oppia had collapsed in tears over the fact that if they moved, Pater would never be able to find them.
But ground-floor rent was expensive. Perhaps Mater could be persuaded to simply move to a cheaper apartment on a higher floor in the same building? The landlord would likely agree.
“Cassianus.”
Felix froze at the sound of his name. He twisted toward the voice, drawing a slow breath and preparing for another fight he couldn’t win. “Yes?”
“We’ve been trying to reach you about your extended—”
“You mean my pater’s extended loan?” he interrupted.
The two men he now faced gave each other knowing looks, as if they’d expected him to respond in such a manner. Perhaps they’d made a bet on how long it would take him to correct them. He had to do it often enough.
“You know the laws.” The short one with freshly bleached hair and arms that could choke a man in seconds stepped toward him. “As next of kin and heir, you also inherit—”
“His mistakes.” Felix’s jaw went tight.
Two Urban Guards stepped out of an eatery, licking their fingers. They crossed the street to flank the creditors, wooden clubs dangling from their belts.
So they’d brought protection. And pressure.
“You have several choices, Cassianus. You can pay what you owe, come with us now, declare yourself a debtor and be sold to pay your debts, or sell a sister or two. Pretty young things like that will fetch a nice price.”
A chill crept up Felix’s spine, chased quickly by the heat of anger.
His fists tightened. What more could he do?
He had done all he could to scrape and save, to make up for his pater’s failings and yet .
. . perhaps there was a small part of him that still hoped he would not have to.
Still clung, as his mater did, to the hope that Pater would make all right in the end.
Well. Pater’s time was up.
“I understand. I do.” Felix forced himself to uncross his arms, relax his stance, appear .
. . reasonable. “And I know you’ve been watching me, waiting for me to suddenly spend money I’ve been claiming not to have all this time.
Well, I don’t have it. But I’m not a thief like him, and I’ll follow the law.
” He pulled his money pouch from his belt and jingled it in the air.
The blond bear, still smelling of a hairdresser’s concoction of lemon juice and vinegar, stepped forward, hand extended.
Felix jerked the purse back. “I’ll go with you. Get a receipt of payment from your handlers.”
That earned him a scowl from the tall one with shoulders that mirrored those of Atlas, but he turned without speaking and led the way to the end of the street, which opened in a wide piazza around the Flavian Amphitheatre.
Painted statues dotted the area, cluttered with peddler carts jingling with cheap jewelry, woven bags, and tiny statues of various gladiators.
The mostly abandoned palaces on Palatine Hill towered above the Forum, temples and government basilicas gleaming in the early-evening sun.
The temples had fallen in and out of repair and popularity since Emperor Constantine had passed laws tolerating the beliefs of Christians.
Instead, buildings to house the meetings of churches had sprung up all over the city and empire, copying the layout of public judicial basilicas rather than temples.
They were places for one to find right standing with God, for sin to be erased, where justice and grace met in equal measure.
Temples were one-sided places. Exchanging goods for flimsy wishes, and receiving less.
Though the emperor Julian had done his utmost to return Rome to pagan worship, many of the old temples had struggled to retain priests, and some had resorted to simply being vaults to protect money.
The creditor’s lair that Pater had visited had once been a temple to an unpopular deity.
Felix sighed as he climbed the steps and took a place in a shifting line of patrons, trying to ignore the curious stares leveled between him and his .
. . friends. Surely, they’d all seen a man about to lose everything before.
When Felix’s turn came, he strode into the office, gave his name to the clerk, and emptied his purse. “I’d like to make a payment on my pater’s loan. Felix Aelius Cassianus.”
The clerk shuffled through a wall of codices before he pulled out the correct ledger and read the total.
A sick feeling sank his gut. He’d be here paying off bit by bit for years. He slid a few coins back into his purse for partial rent and food for the month, and pushed the remainder toward the clerk.
“Is this enough to buy me a month without your guardians?”
“Mater, we can’t stay here.” The apartment door clattered against the wall as Felix burst inside.
Mater and the girls startled from where they’d been chattering and paring their fingernails with the kitchen knives. If he wasn’t short on money, he’d be willing to bet they were newly sharpened.
“Felix!” Mater straightened and crossed the room toward him, arms outstretched for a hug.
“The creditors met me today. I had to give them nearly everything.” Felix lowered his voice as she drew him into a quick embrace. “They threatened the girls if I cannot pay the rest.”
Mater drew back, her smile tight. “We will speak of this later.” Her gaze darted toward the girls and back to him.
“It cannot wait until later. If the girls are in danger, they need to know.”
“What danger?” Cassia appeared at Mater’s elbow, brown eyes large and serious.
“The creditors are still being a bit of a bother,” Mater explained in an oddly soothing tone.
Felix crossed his arms. “Threatening to sell the girls is a far cry worse than a bit of a bother.”
A small hand wedged itself into the knot of his folded arms, searching for his hand. “I could tell them Felicia’s bald.”
Felix took Oppia’s hand and gave it a squeeze, his youngest sister never failing to bring a smile. “If ever there was a time for that, Oppia, it would be now.”
“What can we do to help?” Felicia slanted a mischievous glance at their youngest sister. “I mean, if we cannot sell Oppia right away.”
“Mater!”
Mater placed a calming hand atop Oppia’s head and lifted her chin to Felix. “Have you spoken to Jovan about this?”
Felix shrugged. “At the beginning, yes. He knows I’m desperate to repay Pater’s debts.
He hired me out of pity, and I doubt they can afford to pay me more.
Blandus Albus made him sell several of their best gladiators recently.
It smells of money trouble.” He dropped onto a stool and ran a hand through his hair.
“Doesn’t everything?” The downturn of Rome’s economy was not surprising, given the evacuation of the emperor.
“We can bring our extra clothes, and furniture and things, to the secondhand shop,” Cassia suggested. Sensible as always, that one. “It’s close, and we know the owner. Mater brought them food when his wife was ill. He’ll help us.”
“Oh, I love that shop!” Oppia bounced on her toes. “They had a necklace there last week and it had a beetle stuck in glass!”
“Sounds . . . lovely.” Felix scratched his head. “And I’ll speak with the landlord. Perhaps we can move to a higher room. We can’t afford ground level anymore. If he agrees, it will mean you four moving the few things we can’t sell.”
Mater gave a single nod.
Oppia stilled. “We can’t leave. How will Pater know where to find us when he comes home?”
Felix took a breath, but Mater beat him to a response. “He will find us, dearest. Never fear.”
Not the response he would have given. “Let’s sort through all we can tonight then.”