His mother's eyes darted from left to right and she licked her lips. "I must be honest with you. I don't understand my son's friendship with you, just as I never understood my husband's interest in your ... in the things you can do."
What did she expect me to say to that? Crispus had always been a loyal friend, but that was not true of Valerius. The help he had given me was only because he wanted some control over my magic.
She continued, "However, it's obvious that you have a significant role to play in the future of Rome, so Crispus says we must do all we can to help you succeed."
"Thank you," I mumbled, not sure of what exactly I was thanking her for. More than anything, I wished I could just leave this conversation, and possibly leave this home.
"But in return for our kindness, I have a request. You must not let anything happen to my son. He's all I have left."
I scuffed my sandal against the floor. "Crispus offered us your family's home up in Britannia. Would you consider coming too?"
"If Crispus stays in Rome, I will stay. If he goes to Britannia, I will go," she said. "My husband always believed Crispus could be made into a politician in time. I know his interests lay elsewhere."
"He's a good person," I told her. "And as you say, a great friend."
"He values your friendship as well," she said. "So much that he has risked everything to protect you: our family's honor, our fortune, his very life." She drew in a sharp breath, and I stood facing her, feeling worse than ever. "My husband is gone, Nic. You couldn't save him, I know, but do you not care that my son is in danger too?"
Almost unable to breathe, I stepped back. If she were speaking in anger, I could have countered in anger, telling her that Valerius had involved his family with me, and not the other way around. But she wasn't angry. She was a mother as terrified for her family's future as my mother was afraid for Livia and me. I couldn't blame her for those feelings, nor could I escape my own faults for the reason she felt this way. I had no idea what to say to her.
She reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. "Promise that my son will live. You gave Radulf his life back, but not my husband. When the time is right, will you promise to give Crispus his life back?"
I had promised Radulf to destroy the amulets.
Promised Aurelia that I would live.
And promised nearly everyone I'd ever known that I would never make a Jupiter Stone.
In the end, I would likely break all those promises. But I fully intended to keep this one.
"Crispus will get his life back," I said. "He deserves that much."
"In every possible way, Nic. Give him his life back."
I understood her full meaning. If Crispus became seriously injured, I had just promised to heal him, which of course I would do if it was at all within my power. But there was more. She was asking me to allow Crispus to continue on with his life, as it would have been if I had never entered it. She was asking me to leave and not return.
I bowed politely to her as she left for her room, then hurried back to the triclinium to find Crispus, Aurelia, and Livia huddled in close around Nasica. Even Livia was allowed to stay?
Crispus looked up when I entered, eyes widened in alarm, as if I were a soldier here to arrest them for bribery, rather than a friend.
He shook his head in a warning to stay out of their negotiations, and Livia motioned me over toward her. Aurelia didn't seem to have noticed me at all. When I stood behind her, I saw the contents of her satchel, opened and spread out on the table. It was a thick papyrus scroll, rolled out, and from what I could tell, detailed the entirety of her family's inheritance.
"A year's wages is more than fair," Aurelia was saying. "You see that I can pay it."
"General Radulf is a traitor to Rome," Nasica replied. "It's an insult to think I can overlook that on only a year's wage."
Aurelia glanced sideways at Crispus, then said to Nasica, "Sir, my inheritance is not as large as you may think. There are some debts, and wages that must be paid to the servants of the home."
"Crispus will vote to free the general," Nasica said. "Perhaps some of the other judges will see his weakened condition and show mercy. But only a few."
"He should go free." Crispus straightened his back. "The general has made threats against Rome, but has not carried out any of them. Instead, he has fought valiantly in war, expanding our territories and bringing glory to this empire."
That was only half-true. Radulf did fight on Rome's side, but he did it to expand his own power. It was never about the empire's glory.
"As chairman, Decimas Brutus will tilt the trial against the general," Nasica said, completely indifferent to Crispus's argument. "He has already ordered himself a new toga, to be worn at Radulf's execution."
My right fist tightened with the feeling of magic. I shook it away, but my hand filled again. As I'd suspected, there was no chance of Radulf receiving a fair trial. If Nasica knew that too, then he was more clever than I had thought.
He continued, "Radulf needs fifty-one votes to set him free. If I make it known early how I intend to vote, I can save him from execution. What is that worth to you?"
Aurelia leaned forward. "What is that worth to you?"
He waved a hand toward the scrolls. "All of this."
Livia glanced up at me, licking her lips with worry. She and I had nothing to offer -- even the clothes on my back were not my own. But if she agreed to this bribe, Aurelia would have nothing either. She had come from a life in the sewers; she knew as well as I did what poverty meant. I couldn't allow her to do this.
Yet I also understood why she had asked me not to interfere tonight. She did not want me to influence her decision.
I would not influence her decision -- nothing could ever make Aurelia change her mind. How many times had I learned that?
But I could stop the decision from happening in the first place.
I marched forward. "Leave this home, Nasica. How dare you sit there demanding so much!"
Aurelia stood, hands on her hips. "Nic!"
"If he would sell his vote with so little integrity, how can you trust that he won't sell his promise again if Brutus offers him more? Don't do this!"
Now Nasica stood, as beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. "Give me that scroll, and General Radulf will not face the executioner."
"He's lying," I said. "Do not trust him."
"We have to trust him." Crispus was also on his feet. "I know you think you can rescue Radulf alone, but your grandfather is well guarded in his prison. You won't get past them all, and even if you did, they'd only come after him again. And when Radulf is put to trial tomorrow, he will lose unless we have Nasica's vote."
"Give me the scroll." Nasica spoke more urgently now.
Aurelia looked over to me. "What I've always told you is true. I never cared about my father's money, except for who I could help with it. Today I'm helping you."
She rolled up the scroll and put it in Nasica's hands. The moment she did, I turned on my heel and stomped out of the triclinium, slamming shut the door to my room. It felt childish, but I didn't care. I was furious with them and humbled by Crispus's mother. But even more, I was embarrassed that for as far as I had come since the mines, and for all the magic that flowed through my body, I still needed help in so many ways. Aurelia had just given up everything to save Radulf, and I had stood by, completely useless.
Several minutes later, someone knocked at my door. I didn't know whether it was Livia, Crispus, Aurelia, or all three of them together. Nor did I care.
I rolled over on my bed, ignoring the knock until it finally went away.
I wasn't in Crispus's home when they awoke the next day. Instead, I had left early in the morning to find the carcer where Radulf was being held. It wasn't hard to figure out where he was -- the building where they were keeping him was surrounded with so many Praetors and Roman soldiers, they were practically standing on top of one another. I wished they had been -- it would've been entertaining to k
nock them all over.
The temptation to attack was strong. From my hiding place behind a column in front of the Senate building, I could easily bury most of these men in an avalanche of ruins, letting them become part of the same rot they created everywhere they went. However, that would also bury Radulf, who no doubt had been lowered into the deep prison hole beneath the building.
But as the birds began to awaken, I knew what I could do instead of an attack. For all the strength the Malice gave me, I needed the bulla, which allowed me some communication with animals.
I whistled softly, calling their attention, then whispered through the morning breeze what I needed.
And the birds responded to my call by diving at the Praetors with their sharp beaks and claws. They weren't as sharp as Nasica's nose, perhaps, but they'd still do. The men cried out, attempting to wave off the birds, but found themselves pecked mercilessly in the process. With another whisper from me, several of the birds responded by leaving their droppings on the heads of the men as they scattered. I doubted birds had any sense of humor, but if they did, then I hoped they were enjoying this scene as much as I was. Each time droppings landed on someone's heads, the groans became louder. Weapons clattered to the ground as the Praetors ran in every direction, more than one yelling about bird droppings in either his mouth or eye.
For my part, the scene was so funny, I nearly lost my hiding place behind the Senate columns, bracing my side against the ache from holding in so much laughter.
Once the prison entrance was abandoned, I peeked out from around the column, ensuring that I was alone.
At first I thought I was. The Praetors were all gone, and to avoid the cries of prisoners, few citizens ever wandered this way. Then somewhere in the background, laughter rang out, startling me. I glanced back and saw it was only a handful of senators in the distance, the first arrivals of a new workday. I adjusted my hiding place around the column to avoid them and then checked the area one last time.
Before anyone else came, I ran forward. Compared to the other elaborate buildings in the forum, the carcer was square and rather plain. Of course it would be. No one needed to be impressed by the place Rome held and executed her prisoners.
Or at least, the lesser prisoners were executed here. That would not be Radulf's fate. Brutus would ensure his execution was as brutal and public as possible. A public beheading in the center of the forum perhaps. I had little faith in Aurelia's bribe to do anything beyond make Nasica wealthier than he already was. Saving Radulf was up to me.
The carcer appeared to be empty when I entered. All the guards had been with the Praetors outside, probably warned to watch for me. The prison was just as simple on the inside, with no frescoes or statues, or anything as grand as the other forum buildings. Overall, the room appeared to be little more than aged layers of stone and brick with a single altar toward the back.
I followed the sound of water toward that altar. But before I got there, I saw a metal grate on the floor with a nearby rope attached to an anchor in the floor. Below me came the sounds of moans and cries, maybe from other prisoners below, not too different from Atroxia's constant cries. Maybe from Radulf too, I didn't know.
I glanced around again, just to be cautious. I could defend myself from anyone who might come, but now that I was so close, I didn't want to risk anything happening to Radulf. The floor beneath my feet could easily cave in if I became careless in a fight.
Once I was certain I was alone, I studied the grate again. Nearby was a long metal bar the prison guards must use to pry the grate up, and even then it probably took at least two men to do the job. Thankfully, I wouldn't need the bar, or anyone's help. Well, I'd need the Malice, but that was different. I leaned over and picked up the grate, then tossed it aside.
Then I quickly lowered the rope into the hole, and while doing so lay on my belly and called out, "Radulf, I'm here to get you!"
The moans went quiet, and from the silence, a voice squeaked, "Nic?"
"Take the rope."
More silence. Then the voice said, "I can't hold on to it."
I had never known anything from my grandfather but strength and power. This weakened, sickly man was a stranger to me. No doubt it had cost him dearly to lose his magic, but I also had to remind myself he had been within a whisper of death only two days ago. Though I had brought him back from the edge, he still needed time to regain his strength. A sewage-infested hole was hardly the place for that.
"Livia is expecting me to return with a grandfather," I teased. "So if you can't hold on, then get me another old man to pull up instead. Preferably one a little stronger than you."
He grunted in annoyance, which I took as a good sign. A moment later, I felt his weight attach to the end of the rope, and he told me to hurry, which was definitely my plan too. I stood and began pulling, one tug at a time. Thanks to my years in the mines, I was already strong, but with the combined magic of the Malice and the bulla, I might as well have been lifting a feather out of that hole.
When he was about halfway up, I stopped lifting. Dozens of footsteps were rushing into the carcer. They weren't heavy, as the footsteps of soldiers or Praetors, and the sounds were accompanied by some laughter. Young voices.
Even if they were no threat, this was a bad position to be in. If I lowered Radulf to the ground, he might not have the strength to take the rope again. If I kept him suspended below, then my hands weren't free to use magic -- they were still holding the rope. So I whispered to Radulf to hold on and readied myself for whoever might come. However, I never could have prepared myself for the faces I saw. In some ways, they were my own.
Twenty or thirty boys about my age had come into the carcer, all barefoot and in rags similar to those I had worn for years. These were Roman slaves. They were who I had been only months ago, maybe who I still was on the inside.
One boy was pushed to the front of the group, licking his lips like they were coated in the sweetest honey. He was nervous, and probably afraid of me. He looked at me, then his eye traveled down the rope into the open grate. It was obvious what I was attempting to do, one of my more serious crimes thus far. Maybe at the moment, I was more afraid of him.
"You're Nicolas Calva," he said. "Your family is from Gaul. I'm Donnan. My family was brought here from Gaul a year ago."
I stared at him, still cautious. Did Donnan think that fact would make us friends? Or that I'd be less likely to defend myself against him and these other boys simply because we'd been born within the same defeated borders?
That was ridiculous. None of that mattered to me. And yet my awareness that I could have been standing where he now did mattered a great deal. I could defend myself, and I would if necessary. But I would not attack.
Keeping my eye on Donnan, I began pulling on the rope again. Radulf wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. "What do you want?" I asked.
Donnan's eyes darted toward the hole, and he licked his lips again. "Our masters sent us here to fetch the general."
"Go tell your masters they'll be crusty old corpses before I let the general return to them."
Donnan nodded. "They told us that's what you'd say, more or less. Our masters said that if we leave this building without General Radulf, we will all go to the games this afternoon."
I knew what that meant. They wouldn't go to the games as audience members in the amphitheater. They'd go there as entertainment for the people, and as supper for the animals of the venatio.
Sincerely hoping to help, I turned to Donnan. "Once I have the general up here, then you can come out with us. I will defend you from your masters. I will help you escape."
Donnan shook his head. "We have families. I don't even know where my parents are. I have a sister who works in the mines. What happens to her if I rebel?"
My heart pounded. Sending these boys in here was as cruel as anything the Praetors had ever done to me.
"I have a sister too," I said. "And General Radulf is her grandfather. If I give him to you, the empire
will have him executed."
"If you don't," Donnan said, gesturing to the boys around him, "then we are executed."
Radulf was almost high enough now that I could reach him. He called up, "I'll go with the boys. I'll face the charges against me."
I stopped pulling, unwilling to bring him to the surface only to see him carried away to trial. "We can disappear."
Radulf looked up at me, with little more than blackness and the sound of running water below him. He was straining so hard just to keep hold of the rope that veins were bulging on his face. "Where would we go?" he asked. "Take me away and they'll only come after me again, with higher stakes next time."
I shook my head, almost angry with him. "You're my family, Radulf. You can't just give up!"
"If I am family, then let me care about you as a grandfather should. Let me go."
He stared at his hand holding on the rope, clenching his fist in a way that I knew trouble was coming. I immediately dropped to my belly and reached into the hole, grabbing his wrist just as he let go of the rope. My other hand was clenched around the bolt in the floor to which the rope was tied. It was all that kept me from sliding into the hole with Radulf.
"If you fall back into that hole, it'll kill you!" I shouted.
"If I go to trial, the empire will kill me," he replied.
"I can save you!"
"But at our expense," Donnan said. "We have to take the general!"
"No, you won't!" I flexed my arm to pull myself away from the hole, bringing Radulf upward. Once I got him to the surface, we could work out a plan to save ourselves without sacrificing the slave boys, though I really didn't know how to do it.
Below me, Radulf only shook his head. "I was not happy when my son chose your mother for his wife. I was never as kind to her as I should have been. I wish for you to make an apology for me. Tell her I'm sorry I did not help her when I could have done it. I could have saved you all from the mines, and I should have. I've been so wrong for such a very long time, but perhaps I can repent here, if forgiveness is possible for crimes such as mine."
"There is no forgiveness for traitors," a voice said. Brutus. Immediately, a hand clamped down on my back, directly over the Divine Star, and I gasped with the pain of it.
I lost my grip on the bolt in the floor and would've gone over the edge with Radulf had Brutus not been holding me. Bright lights seemed to flash in my vision, enough that I had to close my eyes to keep them away. All that mattered was keeping hold of Radulf. I would not let him go, but I couldn't pull him up either. Not anymore.