Page 4 of Mark of the Thief


  "Very well." Senator Valerius leaned down to me and whispered, "I am your friend, but do not trust that anyone else in Rome will feel the same way. I will try to get to the mines before dark. Until then, understand that the mark on your back is no scratch. It doesn't matter how you got it, only that there are people who will kill you if they see it."

  Despite the rudeness of looking directly at him, my eyes met his. "Why?" I asked. "What's there?"

  But there was no time for him to answer, for the guards grabbed my arms and pulled me into the wagon. The last thing I saw before we rounded a corner was his son, Crispus, who merely shrugged apologetically at me. Maybe because of Horatio's rude behavior. Or more likely, because he knew his father had just attempted to buy me in order to save my life. And failed.

  As we rode back to the mines, the guards joked at the various punishments Sal might give me for running, but I hoped they were only jokes. Sal knew the truth about how I had come to be so far away. Less certain was whether the truth mattered to Sal.

  Once we arrived, the guards shouted out for Sal to come, that they had found me. I heard my name being called like an echo around camp, and within minutes, I heard Livia's voice behind me. I squirmed around until I saw her.

  Livia looked like a younger version of our mother, which made it hard to look at her on the days I missed our mother the most. Livia was tall for her age with gentle features and kind eyes. She had a round face with curly golden hair that she usually bunched up in a knot at the base of her neck so it didn't get in the way of her duties. Just as my mother had done. Despite the hard work and worries of a life in the mines, Livia was uncommonly pretty. I supposed that was its own sort of curse, because it drew Sal's attention to her, something she hated almost as much as I did.

  Tears were running down Livia's face and they only increased when she saw me. I hated seeing her so upset and wished she could've hidden her feelings better. Because unless we escaped, I would die in the mines anyway, and when I did, my last thought would now be the picture of what that would do to my sister.

  Sal came from the other direction and the guards pushed me out of the wagon and then set me on my knees. I immediately noticed that Sal was limping and his cheek was badly bruised. I wondered if those injuries had come from Radulf after Sal lost me in Caesar's cavern.

  Sal greeted me with a kick directly to my gut. I had expected something like that and, frankly, was glad he didn't do worse. I took the kick with my eyes down and tried to recover my breath without falling over. The bulla was as heavy as it had been when I tried to run with it inside the cave, far heavier than gold should be. If I was going to take a beating for the bulla, then I figured that confirmed my right to keep it. So when I sat up, I angled my body to hide it better from him.

  Livia was closer to me now. I only saw the edge of her skirt, but her cries rang in my ears. I tried telling her to leave but still didn't have enough breath for words. All I had to do was explain myself. Things would return to normal.

  "So you're alive?" Sal didn't sound entirely happy about that fact.

  "He was trying to escape," a guard said. "We found him near the lake." They didn't mention our encounter with the senators. Neither would I.

  "I was only eating berries!" I looked up now. Sal's face was bruised worse than I had first thought. No matter my feelings for him, I still wouldn't have wanted him injured for something I'd done wrong. "When the entrance collapsed, I had to find another way out, and I did. I would've come back here."

  "Why would anyone return to this place?" Sal said. "You're not only an escapee, but a liar too."

  My eyes darted over to Livia, whose face had drained of color. She often told me that if I ever had the chance to escape, I should do it, even without her. I always replied that I wouldn't leave her behind.

  "I belong in these mines," I said. "This is my life."

  "There's no life here, Nic! When will you understand that?" He was screaming at me now, but I had to let him do it. Once he calmed down, he'd allow me back in.

  I nodded toward the guards. "Have them untie me and I'll go back to work right now."

  "Are you asking me to forget about your disobedience before? Or your attempted escape?"

  Well, no, not asking in words. Though it would've been nice.

  He continued, "And what happens if I return you with the other slaves, with your story about an exit deep inside the mines, and your belly full of berries? What will they think of that? What will they believe about their own chances to escape?"

  I could have promised not to say anything, but he wouldn't have believed me and besides, the story would get around anyway. Whispers that I had survived the cave's collapse were probably already floating through the mines.

  "Brand his forehead," the guard behind me said. "Let him be a lesson to any others who think about escaping."

  "No!" I cried. "Please, Sal, don't do that!" If there was even the smallest chance of my becoming free one day, I could never build any sort of life with my face marked as an escaped slave. Branding my forehead would steal away my last hope. But maybe that was the exact reason why Sal would do it.

  Sal brushed a hand over his bruised cheek as he thought it over. Then he crouched near me and parted my hair to reveal my forehead. He tapped the skin and smiled. "We'll put it right here, in big, black, burned letters."

  "Don't do it, Sal." My heart pounded wildly, causing my hands to tremble. "You know I wasn't trying to escape. If I had intended to go, I would've succeeded."

  "I know that." He removed his hand from my head. "General Radulf was furious when you disappeared. I told him that after everything settled in a few weeks, we could dig out the cave entrance again and get another man to go in. But that wasn't the reason for his anger. He was upset because you'd be dead by the time we got back inside. Tell me, Nic, why does a general of the Roman army care if you're alive?"

  I shook my head, genuinely confused. "I don't know. I think you misunderstood him."

  "And did you get whatever he wanted you to find in there?"

  Letting Sal even touch the bulla was intolerable. He'd stain it with the grease of his hands, and tarnish it with his own corruption. "No, sir," I said, looking him straight in the face. No matter how wrong it was to lie to a master, I couldn't give the bulla up to him. Not to anyone.

  Sal searched my face for any sign I was lying, and I was certain he would figure me out. I didn't care. Where I should've felt guilt for my lies, I only felt anger that he was forcing me to tell them. It wouldn't matter anyway. Surely he would sense the tumult of emotions inside me and know the truth.

  But he didn't. And from the darkened expression on his face, I soon realized what a mistake it had been to lie. Because without the bulla, he had no reason to tell Radulf I had escaped from the cave. My life was worth nothing to him.

  A wicked grin spread across Sal's face. "We can't let the other slaves think there's a way out of the mines. And if they do, they need to know the consequences of trying to leave. It's not enough to brand this boy's forehead. We have to kill him."

  Despite my struggles, the guards threw me back into the wagon and held me tight. They wouldn't do it here, in view of the others. Instead, they'd take me back down the hill and leave my body in the weeds for the vultures to find. That terrified me more than anything. To enter the other world without a burial -- I'd never be able to rest, not for the eternities.

  "No!" Livia screamed. "Let him live, Sal, please. He's the only family I have left!"

  "Slaves don't get to have families!" Sal said. "Because of your foul brother, that general almost ordered my death yesterday. He's not worth the trouble, not even for you. He's a curse."

  "I'm not!" I yelled it with more fire than I'd ever felt before, but even then, I knew it was another lie. Maybe Caesar's ghost wasn't telling me that the bulla was a curse. Maybe he had said that by wearing the bulla, I would become the curse.

  By then, the second wagon came rolling into camp, with Caela's limbs and
wings tied up tighter than could possibly be necessary. Tears filled my eyes when I saw her, such a magnificent animal reduced to bondage. Whatever would become of me, I feared that her fate might be no better.

  At least it provided a temporary distraction for Sal and the guards, who wandered over to the wagon to get a closer look. I took advantage of the moment to jump from the wagon and run the other way. With my arms still tied, it wasn't the best way to escape, but it was all I had.

  I yelled at Livia to follow me, and at least for a little while, she stayed close. Then her footsteps trailed behind and when I turned to look for her, someone grabbed me around the waist and tackled me to the ground.

  Sal.

  He wrestled me to my back and knelt on one forearm to hold my arms down, then pulled out his own knife. I saw Livia a few feet away, also on the ground.

  "Take this as a warning," I said with as much anger as I felt. "Once you kill me, I'm going to come back as a Shade. I will haunt you every day of your miserable life. And I'll enjoy it too."

  Sal's eyes widened at my threat, then he said, "I'll have them toss you into the lake and drown your spirit. I will kill everything that is even a memory of you." He raised the knife and I closed my eyes.

  "Sal, I will give you what you want!" Livia yelled. "I will marry you."

  My eyes flew open and I struggled again beneath Sal's weight. "No!" I cried. As far as I was concerned, Sal was a roach that had crawled from the underworld and taken on human form. He hadn't done a good job of it either -- the resemblance was far too close. If she married him, Livia's life would only grow worse than it already was, and I would never, never accept him as part of our family.

  But she had Sal's attention now and he lowered the knife. Livia walked to Sal and fell to her knees beside him. "Let my brother live," she said, folding her hand around his arm holding the knife. "And when I come of age next year, I will be yours."

  Sal put his hand over hers and my stomach lurched. When they both got to their feet, I could finally breathe again, though the air smelled like Sal, fetid enough to make me retch. The guards who had been with Caela returned and dragged me to my feet, waiting for their orders.

  "No!" I said again to Livia. "You must not marry him."

  "It'll save your life." Tears filled her eyes. "This is the only way."

  Something about Sal's widening smile made me nervous. With a quick glance to Livia, he said, "That bird in the wagon will go to Rome, as my gift to the emperor. Nic will go with it, as part of the games in a few days." Now his eyes fixed on mine. "I will not kill you, Nic, but I will come to the games and see what sort of fun the empire has with your life there. I doubt you will last ten minutes in that arena."

  Livia cried out and pled for Sal to change his mind, but he had kept his promise by allowing me to live, and would not be persuaded to do anything more. I yelled out in protest and fought with everything I had, but the guards threw me into the wagon and bound me to it with chains.

  "Let me talk to him one last time!" Livia was sobbing now. "Mother wanted him to know --"

  But by then, the guards had already begun driving me away, and her words were drowned out in the noise. I didn't fight anymore after that. My shoulder throbbed, I was numb with worry for Livia, and I was terrified of what lay ahead for me.

  As we rode away in the waning light, I saw a wagon approach the mines, bearing a flag marked with the house of Valerius. Even from here, Crispus's curly blond hair was visible. They had come, just as the senator had promised. But they were too late.

  We rode throughout a warm night, and were greeted in the early morning hours by dark skies that threatened rain. I didn't mind rain, especially in these hot summer months, but I dreaded the idea of the storm growing worse. Perhaps the only thing I ever preferred about living in the mines was it allowed me to stay deep underground during thunderstorms. During the lightning.

  Our wagon finally stopped just outside the walls of Rome. The guards had sent a rider ahead to arrange my sale and a meeting place, but I couldn't see who had just bought me until he came around the back of the wagon and ordered me out.

  My new owner was a handsome man who had the dark hair and eyes of an Arabian, and he had an intelligence about him that made me wary. I watched him carefully, hoping to get an idea for what kind of a master he would be. I didn't need much. In fact at this point, I'd have been satisfied with anyone who kept me alive, based on Valerius's warning. Once my new owner shook hands with the guard who had arranged my sale, he walked up and looked me over, the way he might examine a newly purchased horse. It was part of the process of acquiring a slave, I knew that, and yet I felt like little more than an animal beneath such coarse treatment. At least he untied the ropes around my wrists. That showed some sign of honor in him.

  "My name is Felix," he said. "I will be your master, but I am also a servant to Emperor Tacitus, ruler of the Roman Empire. So anything you do for me will also be a kindness to him."

  I didn't care. I had no loyalty to Emperor Tacitus. Nor to Felix, for that matter. But I did understand that my only hope of avoiding the lion's jaws in the arena was to make myself useful to him.

  "And you're Nic?"

  "Nicolas Calva."

  He chuckled. "How did a slave get such a fine name? Will you add a cognomen to your title once you're in Rome? Nicolas Calva Magnus perhaps? Are you grand enough for a title like that?"

  "No, sir." I glanced up at him with a grin. "Not yet."

  "Well, Nicolas Calva, you look hungry."

  I was always hungry, but for now, I said, "I'm thirsty." I couldn't remember the last time I'd had something to drink, and my mouth tasted like sand.

  "We'll get on the road soon, and I'll have water for you then, all right?"

  I nodded. My respect for Felix was growing.

  Sal's guards began helping a girl transfer Caela into a caravan wagon. Even though her ropes weren't yet untied, Caela was already squawking with irritation. That concerned me, but for the moment, my attention was more on the girl.

  Strange as it may sound, except for Livia, I had rarely seen any girls my own age. Girls who were born into the mines were quickly sold away, and the few women who were kept there to cook and tend to our wounds were usually widows of other miners. Livia only stayed because of Sal's fondness for her. So although I tried not to stare at the girl, I wasn't doing a very good job.

  Her light brown hair was worn long and pulled away from her face. Her tunic was simple like mine, though a bit longer and in much better condition. Around her neck was a small crepundia, decorated with small wood carvings and trinkets that would have been made for her when she was a baby. I found it odd that she still wore it. She was working for Felix, so she wasn't a patrician, but she had a knife at her belt, so I doubted she was a slave either. She must be a plebian, then. I liked the idea of having her life one day, not bound to any master, but no master of others either.

  "Her name's Aurelia and she's as cuddly as a rabid bear," Felix said, following my gaze. "She'll be guarding you on the way into Rome, and you won't want to cross with her."

  I'd already crossed with a griffin, and based on the sting in my shoulder, I'd lost that fight. I didn't need to take on anyone who was compared to a bear. As if she had overheard us, Aurelia paused from her work to glare at me. I pretended not to notice, mostly because it would probably annoy her.

  Felix continued, "I work in the venatio. Do you know what that is?"

  It was the animal show that took place in the arena before the gladiator battles. Several of the miners had attended those games before and often described them to me while we worked. Some animals were put on display or taught to do tricks -- since Caela was so rare, that's what I figured she'd be asked to do. But most of the animals were made to fight one another, just as the gladiators did. The more brutal the show, and the more blood that was spilled, the louder Rome cheered.

  When I nodded, Felix said, "Our next games are in two days, but I'm wondering if I'll be abl
e to keep the griffin for even the next two minutes."

  The guards were trying to pull Caela from the wagon, while Aurelia held the caravan door open. Caela was resisting the tugs on her ropes, then suddenly screeched and flared out her wings, breaking her bonds. Aurelia pulled out a knife and ran forward, but Caela swatted her to the ground and leapt from the wagon. Sal's pathetic guards ran in fear and in seconds Caela had already driven them away, but Aurelia was trapped.

  I ran forward and waved my arms while moving closer to Caela to calm her. Caela squawked at Aurelia, whose knife was still tight in her grip.

  "Put that away!" I said. "You're making her angry!"

  "I'm making her angry?" Aurelia said. "She attacked me!"

  I turned on my heel and yelled, "Then stop looking like someone who expects a fight. Put that knife away! I'll manage the griffin!"

  Aurelia opened her mouth to object, then shoved her knife into its sheath and backed away. More gently now, I turned to Caela and pointed to Felix's caravan. "That's for both of us. I'll go in with you."

  Caela pawed at the ground, then walked with me up the short ramp and into the caravan. Once we were in, Felix said, "Nic, come back out."

  "I'd better stay with the griffin."

  "No. Come out now."

  He was eyeing me suspiciously, which made me nervous. But he had also promised me water, and I wouldn't do anything that interfered with getting some. So I went down the ramp again and stood in front of him.

  "I saw a tear in your tunic."

  My hand brushed against my side where the bulla was hidden. "There are several tears in it, sir. Perhaps you can get me a new tunic."

  "I might have to, because I thought I saw ..." He put a hand on my shoulder, exactly where the strap of the bulla lay. I lowered my eyes, hoping he wouldn't think anything of it, but knowing full well he would be curious. He reached beneath the tunic, pinched the strap between his thumb and forefinger, frowned at me, and then said, "Turn around."

  I didn't want to. Valerius's warning still rang in my ears, of the danger of showing anyone the scratch ... or the mark. I wasn't sure exactly what was there now.