Chapter 4 #2
“We will return as soon as we can,” I promised Marcella. “Lucius.” I gestured for him to follow me out of the gate, while Cassia continued her farewells with Marcella and the children.
As soon as we were out of sight of the others, I lifted Lucius by the tunic and pinned him against the wall. He was a big man, as large as Xerxes, but Lucius was easier to subdue than the goat.
“What the—” Lucius’s words cut off as my arm went across his throat.
“If you harm Marcella, if you upset her, if you even think about harming or upsetting her, you will answer to me.” I fixed him with the hard stare that had made the toughest gladiator flinch.
“What the hired assassins would do will be nothing to my wrath. Do you understand? Marcella and her family are not to be touched.”
Lucius’s mouth worked, but no sounds came out. I eased my iron hold and he gasped a breath.
“I would never,” Lucius declared hoarsely. “I’m not that much of a villain.”
“Be sure you are not.”
I gave him one final shove and then dropped him. Lucius landed on his feet, winded, but instead of coming at me, he nodded and rubbed his throat.
“I’ll protect them as best I can,” he said, still catching his breath. “Least I can do.”
“Marcella will protect you. Do not get in her way.”
“Right.” Lucius coughed and turned away.
By the time Cassia emerged, followed by Marcella and her family, Lucius had regained his equilibrium and was his annoyingly cheerful self once more.
Cassia eyed him and then me, but she said nothing. She and Marcella embraced, then Cassia fell into step with me, and we trudged up the track toward the road.
We entered Rome after the noon hour. The popina where I’d often drunk at the base of our hill was open again, a new proprietor serving a crowd. I stood in line here to purchase a meal for us while Cassia went on to the apartment.
The proprietor had improved the food the last man had offered and expanded the interior with more tables. Few of those were filled, however, as he’d raised the price for those who wanted to enjoy their meals indoors.
I received two bowls of stew, which I covered with the bread the proprietor provided, and returned to our apartment. I knew the bread would be nowhere near as good as Marcella’s, but I’d put up with that to slake my hunger.
Cassia was already noting things on a tablet when I arrived. I set out the bowls, fetched spoons, and dug in.
Cassia took a few distracted bites as she wrote. She’d lift her head, frown, stare into space, and then start jotting again.
I finished the stew and bread, along with half of Cassia’s after she pushed them away.
“What do we do?” I asked when Cassia finally laid down her stylus to sip a cup of wine. “Go to Florentia and tell Herminius and his lackeys to leave Lucius be?”
I didn’t relish a jaunt into the rough country of the north, with its mountains, cold wind, and unfamiliar dialects, but I’d do it if it would relieve Marcella of taking care of Lucius.
“I doubt we could convince him of Lucius’s innocence,” Cassia said. “We will need hard proof of that. We must discover more about this merchant and his manager, but I believe we can find information about them right here in Rome.”
She carefully wiped her hands on a linen cloth, opened the bag she’d carried from Marcella’s, and lifted out Lucius’s cloak, letting the folds fall in her lap as she examined it.
I moved both empty bowls out of the way. If we stained or damaged this cloak, replacing it or even repairing it would cost us more than we possessed.
“It is sumptuous.” Cassia’s voice held interest as she ran her fingers over the silk lining. “He’d have paid a fortune for this.”
“Or someone gave it to him, perhaps in return for a favor.”
Cassia’s brows went up. “It would have to be a very important favor. We could live in this apartment for a year on what this cloak would bring in and pay for all our meals and wine as well.”
The silk whispered as Cassia lifted the cloak to study it. Light played along the lining, the hue of it changing from dark to light and back again, the red glistening like blood.
“I imagine he traded for it in one of the remote outposts he boasts of visiting,” Cassia speculated.
“Silver and gold from Rome flow out along the roads to the east, and silk, spices, and luxuries flow back to us. My father said that one day, Rome will run out of coins, having spent it on feathers, peppers, and impractical cloth. And that will be the end of us.”
Cassia’s voice turned wistful, as it always did when she spoke of her father. He’d been a slave but also a scribe and had taught Cassia all she knew. He must have been a wise man, because Cassia was shrewd, canny, thoughtful, and infinitely resourceful.
“Maybe Lucius stole it,” I suggested. “And that is why assassins chased him all the way from Parthia.”
“He’d have more people after him if so.” Cassia stroked the lining once more then carefully folded the cloak, keeping the woolen side out. “I doubt he’d have reached Antioch again if he had. Or he’d have been arrested there.”
“Lucius knows how to milk a goat.” Once I’d subdued the beast, Lucius had easily gotten the milk from her. “And he didn’t fuss about sleeping on the floor of a farmhouse. He seems used to living rough.”
Cassia slid the cloak back into her bag. “And yet, he has wealth beyond our grasp if he can purchase everything he needs as he crosses the eastern expanse of Rome.”
“You don’t trust him,” I stated.
Cassia set the bag on the floor and laid her slim hands on the table.
“I never knew Xerxes. Marcella loved him and so did you. I can observe Lucius and see only him, not the shadow of Xerxes behind him. I trust him enough to stay with Marcella, because she can handle him, but no, I don’t trust him completely. I apologize for that, Leonidas.”
“I am glad,” I said.
“Glad?” Cassia asked in surprise.
“Someone must see things clearly. Marcella will be harsh with him for not being Xerxes. I might be too forgiving, to make up for the fact that I didn’t save Xerxes. We need you to tell us what is true.”
Cassia’s shoulders lowered a bit, betraying her relief. She knew that the topic of Xerxes could fill me with anger, sorrow, and remorse. “I might have to tell you things about Lucius that you do not like.”
“I know.”
We shared a look, one I hoped held understanding.
I let out a breath. “Well then. How do we find out what Lucius is really up to?”
Cassia closed and stacked her tablets, returning to brisk efficiency. “We go to the storehouses of the silk merchants. That means the Horrea Agrippina and the Viscus Tuscus. We can begin there.”
The Horrea Agrippina lay on the other side of the Forum Romanum, beyond the Temple of Castor on the Vicus Tuscus that ran along the base of the Palatine Hill. The Horrea was a large textile warehouse that also held shops where rich Romans purchased expensive dyed cloth and silks of all kinds.
Silk, I’d been told, came from the mysterious, eastern land we called Seres, which no Roman had ever seen. Roman merchants received the silk in thick, bulky cloth, that was then picked apart, dyed, and rewoven into the thin fabric people of Rome preferred.
The cost of transporting it alone ensured that only the wealthiest could purchase it.
I’d met a matron during my days as a gladiator who would wear silk garments so transparent that she might as well have worn nothing at all.
I’d been less enticed by her body during our dinners than worried she’d spill hot food on herself.
Before we reached the Horrea, Cassia slowed her steps in front of a house that had been built about ten years ago—I knew its age because Gnaeus Gallus, the architectus I now worked for, had told me one day when we’d passed it.
He’d explained that an older, sumptuous domus had once stood there but had been pulled down long ago and this building, which was used for offices and storage, constructed over it.
The structure had a wide portico with marble pillars shielding a shadowy interior.
A large guard stood outside its entrance.
“In there.” Cassia made a surreptitious gesture at the building. “Ask for Cassius Tatius.” When I turned a blank stare to her, she explained, “I am acquainted with a slave who works in his warehouse. He once claimed that if anyone knows what is happening in the silk trade, it is Cassius Tatius.”