The Ludus Magnus, in the District South of the Flavian
At Narses' nod, one of his guardsmen lifted the bar locking the First Sword's quarters. The lanista stepped inside, his cane's distinctive tap-tap loud in the night. A lamp, burning low, illuminated a table littered with the corpse of dinner. Diana lay, her head sprawled on the tabletop, snoring softly, one hand still curled around a wine cup. Narses stumped up to her side, then rolled back an eyelid with his thumb.
"Sleeping." He grunted. "Check the others."
His men entered the room and found Candace and Agrippina asleep on their couches. Carts with padded wheels were waiting outside, each long enough for a tall man, which left plenty of room for the two shorter women. Narses watched with a paternal air while the slaves loaded the women onto the carts, swathed in blankets.
"Go on," he chided the men. "Use the tunnel and be quick about it."
Narses closed the door himself, once the others were gone, then picked up the bar and put it in place with his hand. He smiled at his fist. It was still strong. An Ethiopian merchant had once sold him a black springy ball, advising him of its many medicinal powers. The lanista found it relaxing to squeeze the ball in his fist seven or eight hundred times a day. Even one arm could still serve, if the will behind it was resolute.
He picked up the cane and walked back to his office, tapping it on the floor at regular intervals, whistling softly. Everyone else in the sprawling complex of buildings was sound asleep. Within the hour, a messenger would come back through the long underground tunnel connecting the Ludus Magnus to the Flavian, bringing word that Diana was safe in the heavily guarded pits under the amphitheater. They would not languish in mean cells, either, but in certain quarters reserved for special prisoners. His Amazons would not want for creature comforts!
"Well?" Gaius Julius was waiting in the office, a dark gray cloak thrown around his shoulders. The man's pate gleamed in the light of a brace of candles. "Are they safely put away?"
"They are. They ate heartily and sleep deeply." Narses sat in his old leather chair, feeling it creak comfortably under him. "Everything is very quiet. Perhaps nothing will happen tonight."
"Perhaps." Gaius Julius shook his head ambivalently. "The Duchess is a canny woman-if her agents enter the Ludus Magnus and find that their quarry has fled, there will be no violent demonstration. Such things are poor technique; her men will retire quietly, seeking advantage on another day."
"Humph! Not very sporting. My lads are very restless-they want a good brawl. Of course, Hamilcar really wants to test his skill against Diana."
"You mean the kohl-eyed African?" Gaius Julius sneered. "He wants to put his sword in her, all right! He's like a boy in love for the first time-it would be useless to pit them against each other. Keep her unique, separate from the usual dreary business of retariius and murmillo."
"There would be some heavy betting," Narses said in a sly voice, "if Diana and Hamilcar were to be put to the test. My lads already waste hours of practice in fevered argument, comparing the two, measuring their strengths and weaknesses. Wouldn't you like to see it yourself? You love the games, the fights. I know, I've seen your face!"
Gaius Julius shook his head, raising a hand, palm out. "I will tell you a secret of the showman's art, my friend. You should know this! When a man and a woman are at odds, there is no finer show in the world. Sparks, lightning, storms-all pale beside a feuding pair. But if they grapple in the test and one wins? Or they reach compromise? Well, everything is lost. There's no show there-only marriage! Who wants to watch that?"
Narses nodded in agreement, but raised a finger. "Friend, I have already been informed bets in the excess of five and six million aureii would exist, if such a thing were to happen. She has captured the imagination of the whole city!"
The old Roman whistled silently. That was an emperor's sum. A cunning man in control of events could make a suitable profit from such a frenzy. Greed was not unknown in the dead man's heart, and good red gold was the fuel for all his ambitions. His finances were already stretched to the absolute limit, not just by the massive and continuing series of games, but by Alexandros and his army. That project consumed all the coin Gaius could shovel into the trough, with no end in sight. Someday, perhaps, the investment would reap a rich reward, but until then? Only endless loss…
"If you want to set them against each other," a contemplative tone crept into Gaius Julius' voice and he smiled, leathery skin creaking up around his eyes, "then do so in a way no gladiators have ever dueled before…"
– |A huge figure moved against the night. The man tensed, setting his legs, then reached down and cupped his hands. His companion crouched at the corner of the Ludus Magnus. Heaps of rubbish clogged the alley.
"Hup!" The man straightened, powerful legs and arms moving in swift unison. The girl flew up, then deftly flipped and landed on the top of the wall. Crouching, she peered around, looking across the canted tile roof of the school. Ila's nose itched and she rubbed it with the back of her hand. This section of the outer wall was relatively free of metal spikes or crushed glass, so she took a moment to take a wooden bobbin from the pouch at her belt and toss it down into the alley. Below, Mithridates caught it from the air, feeling the twine uncoil. He crouched down, holding the wooden spool gently in his huge black hands. On the rooftop, Ila picked her way swiftly across the tiles, moving in silence. Her bare feet trod lightly on the rooftop. Twine unspooled behind her.
The gladiator had patiently described the compound, scratching maps in the sand, telling her how to move quietly and unseen. Pairs of guardsmen patrolled after dark. Gladiators would be locked away in their rooms or cells, but many entertained "friends" in the evening. Gladiators were richly rewarded, if they lived. Suitable company was only one compensation. Because of this, the night watch was not quite as strict as it should be.
Ila did not intend to set foot on the ground floor. She was light and nimble enough to make her way by roof and arch. Clambering over the roof ridge, she found herself below the rear wall of the main building. Softly, she crept to the wall, then eased along it, feeling with her hand for a… drainpipe.
Despite the darkness, Ila was sure of her touch. Fired-clay piping was bolted to the side of the building, letting the rainwater that fell on the roof find the cisterns below the school. The beneficence of the gods was not to be wasted.
Her nimble feet on either side of the pipe, Ila took a firm grip with her hands, then swarmed up the drain, her toes splayed against the rough brickwork. At the edge of the upper roof there was an overhanging lip. Clinging with her knees, the girl reached up and felt around for a good hold. A thirty-foot drop dangled below her, but she paid it no mind. Even without a net, she was sure of herself. Her fingers found a solid hold and she grabbed on, pushing away from the wall below with her feet. She bounced, then rolled up, swinging over the lip. Rough tile scratched her leg, but no blood was drawn, so she pressed on.
– |"Bah!" Narses snorted. "That is the stupidest idea I've ever heard!"
"Is it?" Gaius Julius waved his goblet at the other man. The remains of two bottles of Campanian wine lay between them. "Or just unheard of? I've never seen such a thing."
"Ay, that's because no one would agree to it-the Greens and the Blues would have a fit! They've their own traditions, you know, and it would anger the gods to flaunt them."
"Oh, please!" Gaius' voice was slurred. The wine was very good and the discussion thirsty. "What gods? Have you seen them? When did storm-crowned Jupiter last grace Rome with his presence? Never! Not even in the old tales. He's always frolicking around with the Greeks, but not with old, dull Rome."
Narses made a sign with his goblet, seeking to fend off evil. Wine splashed on the floor and the lanista cursed. "Look at the waste! Bacchus will be enraged. No, gods or not, my friend, the racing factions would not agree to such a thing. If it didn't work, they'd be a laughingstock!"
"Really? Even with so much money to be made?" Gaius Julius grinned over the edge of his cup. "I'll bet… I'll bet I could convince the Emperor to allow it. That would shut them up."
"How?" Narses' eyebrows crept up on his forehead like a pair of caterpillars. "You know the Emperor?"
"He and I," Gaius Julius said in a dignified voice, "have broken bread together." Then he hiccupped. "Damn this wine, it's betrayed me!"
Narses laughed, but a contemplative look came over him.
– |Ila crouched at the edge of the roof, looking down into the center of the main building. Just below there was a balcony, lined with sleeping benches and partially covered with an awning. Slaves sprawled on the deck, snoring and snuffling. Like many Romans in this mild summer weather, they had moved out of their close, cramped dormitories to sleep under the bare sky. Ila frowned, looking for a way down.
Gulping, she eased to the edge of the roof, swung her thin legs over the side, then dropped down between two large sleeping men. She landed softly, drew a quavering breath and found her balance. After waiting a moment, she slipped between the sleeping bodies to the outer railing. A balcony lined with stout pillars faced the lower floor. She hoped it would be free of snoring layabouts. Ila hopped up on the railing, then prepared to swing down.
"Did you hear something?" The voice was startlingly clear and not far away.
Ila immediately swung over the railing. Her heart was pounding, but she became very still, barely breathing. Footsteps clomped on the balcony, making it shiver slightly.
"I see a lot of lazy slaves," said a different voice.
"Oh, they work hard enough during the day, when we're sitting in the shade! Let them sleep-no, there was something. I saw it out of the corner of my eye, maybe a child."
"Haw!" the other voice said, turning away. "If there was a child here, it would be squealing."
Rough laughter receded and Ila peered out. The guards were gone. Crabbing sideways to the top of a pillar, she monkeyed down, clinging to either side of the fluted column. This floor was deserted, save for rows of orderly worktables and looms. Ila hopped down, crouching below the level of the tables, and then scampered off, towards the north, where Mithridates thought the women would be held.
– |"Narses, do you believe in the gods?" Gaius Julius was maudlin now, deep in his cups. The lanista nodded blearily. "I used to, I think, but now? Where are they? Why don't our prayers move them?"
"Maybe they do." Narses managed to untangle his tongue. "The gods are the gods! They can pick and choose just like men. No one ever said that the gods would do what we wanted. If they exist, we are their playthings, no more than insects."
Gaius Julius scowled. "I hate the thought! A Roman lives and breathes freedom. Are we only tokens, moved on some board? Did the gods make us, put spirit in our bodies? Do they make us live?"
Narses poured the last dregs into Gaius' cup. "It sounds like you hate them. I would praise them, for if they made me, then I live and breathe and take joy in the world! Is there a greater gift than life?"
Gaius Julius closed his eyes. "Am I a living man? I think, I feel, I hope… but what if these feelings are just the dreams of the gods? What if I am only their memory… then I am nothing. I hate this!"
"Then drink more wine." Narses hiccupped, then started to dig under the table for another amphora. "And it will all become much more bearable."
"No." Gaius Julius stood, now showing no effects of the alcohol, and gathered up his cloak. "I am tired of this. I am going home."
– |Dawn stole over the rooftops, throwing a fine gown of pink light over the city. Mithridates stirred, still crouched at the base of the wall. There was no sign of Ila.
Mithridates listened and waited. His brown eyes searched the rooftops. No alarm had sounded. The tiny bell attached to the length of twine lay silent. Mithridates picked his way out of the alley, careful to disturb nothing. The ground was littered with smashed glass and pottery. It would be easy to leave a trail.
A block away, to the east, an insula of flats crowded under the vast shape of an aqueduct. Ranks of plastered arches rose over the houses, carrying three tiers of water pipe from outside the walls into the center of Rome. Mithridates climbed the back stairs, finally reaching the top floor and knocking on a peeling wooden door. A husky man in armor under his cloak opened it. The African slipped inside, finding the room close and crowded.
Mithridates said, "She did not return, though there was no alarm or confusion. I think she is still hiding inside the school. Doubtless circumstances changed and she could not leave."
Anastasia snapped her fan closed. "Rumor tells me that some slaves were moved from the Ludus Magnus to the Flavian overnight, by a secret way."
"Yes," Mithridates answered, "there is a tunnel that connects the cellar of the school to the lower levels of the amphitheater. It is used to transport criminals or particularly popular fighters or just when the streets are crowded on game day."
"Thyatis may be in the pits, then. Can we get her out?"
"No." Mithridates met the Duchess' furious gaze with equanimity. His life was already forfeited, his oath and contract to the Ludus Magnus broken-there was little this woman could do to him. "Not by force of arms. The Flavian is well defended and under Imperial protection. A favor, a pardon, gold-those things might fetch her out."
Anastasia turned away, the back of her hand to her mouth. She had wanted to deal with this herself, in private, but the effort had been both too rushed and too slow. There was another possibility, however. "I will speak with a person of my acquaintance. A favor might be arranged."
"What about the girl?" Mithridates remained, solid as a column, watching her.
"Keep a watch," Anastasia growled, glaring at the African and at Vitellix, who was leaning against the wall, chewing on his nails, worried. "She is a deft creature, she will find her way out."
The Duchess left, followed by a cloud of her servants.
Mithridates looked at Vitellix and smiled, showing fine white teeth in his ebony face. "Why don't we pay the school a visit? You can return me, seeing as how you found me all lost and injured. Perhaps Hamilcar will be there and I can break his neck."
"A fine plan." Vitellix looked ill with worry. "Let us watch for a day, and see."
– |In the alley behind the school, the tiny copper bell at the end of the length of twine shifted on the breeze, making a small ringing sound. Then it fell still, then swung again. A stray cat, nosing among the piles of refuse for fish heads, heard it and slunk close. Tawny eyes gleamed and it batted at the bell with a dirty paw. The bell rattled and rang, and the cat bit at it with sharp yellow teeth. Twine frayed and then tore loose. Amused, the cat chased the bell down the alley.