Mark of the Thief (7 page)

“I’m not,” I said, but the lie sounded insincere, even to me. Every part of me understood that she was absolutely correct. Maybe I hadn’t escaped Caesar’s ghost in that cave after all.

I
n the caravan, Aurelia had a skin of water sloshing at her side, and outside it had begun to rain. They were painful reminders of my thirst, taunting me. Aurelia hadn’t stopped staring at me since we left, except to glance at the dent I’d made with my elbow. Then she’d shudder and darken her glare.

“I need some of your water,” I told her.

“Felix put that chain on your leg for a reason,” she said. “Maybe you’ll tell me why.”

Maybe not. Her hand still gripped her knife, and the last thing I needed was trouble from her too. I said, “I don’t belong in chains. I’m not dangerous.”

“I’m sure you’re as harmless as a butterfly. If a butterfly could dent metal, of course.”

“It’s a warm morning. The metal must’ve gone soft.”

“It could be hotter than Apollo’s sun, and that metal still wouldn’t have softened.”

“Give me that water.”

Aurelia pulled the skin from over her shoulder, uncorked the opening, and took a drink.

“Please, Aurelia.”

She started to cork it again, but I lurched forward, hoping to somehow reach far enough to grab it from her. The chain on my leg pulled tight, then, with a knocking sound, it gave me two more inches. I glanced back and saw the bolt that had fastened the chain to the floor had come loose. But I still wasn’t close enough to Aurelia.

“I was going to give it to you. Now you’re threatening me?” she asked.

“Threatening you? No, I just need the water!”

“Then take it!” She tossed it to me and her eyes fell upon the loosened bolt.

I didn’t want to think about how it had pulled free so easily. Instead, I swallowed the water in giant gulps and too quickly the water was gone. She stared at me the entire time, her finger stroking the crepundia around her neck. There were at least a dozen carved miniatures on it, all strung together on a leather cord. Several were symbols of the harvest, a bundle of wheat or a bunch of grapes. I also noticed an old Roman coin and a carving of a timepiece, but the largest of all was a sickle crossed with a knife that wasn’t much different from the real knife Aurelia carried with her. In the center was a satchel only a little smaller than the bulla. Maybe hers also held gems.

I wondered why she might put so much value on what was only a child’s plaything. Then I felt the bulla against my side. It was for children too.

I corked the skin and tossed it back to her. “Thank you.”

“Something’s not right,” she said. “I still don’t trust you.”

Which was fine, given that I still didn’t like her. My fingers traced the outlines of the bulla, and I wished I could take it out and study it closer. Whatever Felix decided to do with me next, he knew about the mark and probably the bulla too. Once he forced me to show it to him, he’d accuse me of having stolen it, which, probably, I had. I’d be immediately killed for that.

Caela rolled in her sleep, which left a talon not far from Aurelia’s hand. She reached out to pull the remaining rope free from Caela’s leg, but Caela awoke and snapped at her fingers. “Fine!” Aurelia said. “Then I won’t help!”

I couldn’t help but laugh, which only focused the heat of Aurelia’s glare on me. In response, I stretched as far from the wall as the chain allowed and patted Caela instead, mostly to prove that I could.

“That griffin saved your life, you know,” Aurelia said.

My first thought was how Aurelia could possibly know about our escape from the cave, and I fumbled around for a response.

But she added, “Felix had intended to put you in the arena tomorrow along with the other criminals, but now he’ll need you to manage the griffin.”

“I’m not a criminal.”

“Yes, and you’re not dangerous either, I already know.”

A crack of thunder roared above us and I ducked. Now it was Aurelia’s turn to laugh. “It’s only noise.”

“The lightning that goes with it isn’t noise.”

“We won’t get hit by the lightning.”

“Tell that to my father.”

“Did he —?” She answered her own question. “Oh, that’s awful.”

When I remained silent, her eyes darted up to the window above my head, and she asked, “Ever been in the city?”

“No.”

“Rome is the most amazing place in the world. I sometimes help Felix in the amphitheater. It holds more than fifty thousand Romans, and everyone can attend the games for free, even slaves.”

“I won’t be a slave forever.”

She shrugged that off. “Then what would you do? I doubt you have any skills to make a life in Rome.”

“Maybe I’ll get a job riding in caravans, guarding things that aren’t dangerous.” A grin tugged at my mouth. “How hard could that be?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m paid to control that griffin! There’s not enough gold in the empire to make guarding you worthwhile.”

She probably didn’t know how much gold was piled in Caesar’s cave. If I was more trouble to her than all of that, then that was a compliment.

“Why do you need the pay?” I asked. “Doesn’t your family take care of you? They must have given you that crepundia.”

“My father gave me the crepundia when I was a baby,” Aurelia said. “Before I was exposed.”

“Oh.” I knew about that. Several of the slaves in the mine had come to us through exposure. If the father of a household didn’t want a child, he would put it out on the streets. Maybe the child would be picked up by a loving family willing to adopt it. Very often slavers would take it. I wasn’t sure what had happened to Aurelia, but if she still had that crepundia, I knew there must be a part of her hoping to learn who her family once was, and trying to earn her way back to them.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“Just stop talking,” she said.

That was fine by me. Caela shook her head as if I should’ve known better. But what did she know about girls? She’d been in a cave her whole life. Of course, so had I.

I did know one thing for certain, which was that I wanted nothing else to do with Aurelia. Felix had been kind when he compared her to a rabid bear. Given the choice of a traveling companion, I’d have preferred the bear. Because Aurelia and I would never,
never
become friends.

T
he storm passed quickly and it wasn’t long afterward that the wagon stopped too and our doors opened. I put a hand on Caela to steady her from jumping out at any strangers, but it was only Felix who appeared.

“We’re at the gates of Rome,” he said. “It should be safe to come out now, if you want to enter the city with me.”

My heart leapt at the opportunity. I hadn’t expected to be allowed to enter this way, like a freeborn. I told Caela to be good, knowing full well she’d do whatever she wanted anyway, and then scrambled out of the wagon.

Aurelia started to follow, then Felix held up a hand to her. “You’re paid to watch that griffin,” he reminded her.

She shook her head. “I won’t stay in there alone. It doesn’t like me.”

I smiled, but said nothing. The joke was far too obvious.

He sighed. “Then ride on the back. Nic and I need to talk up front.”

My grin widened, and I made sure she saw it. “If the griffin makes a mess in there, be sure to clean it up.”

She growled back at me, or something very close to it, which only made me happier. Felix returned to the seat of the wagon and then invited me to sit beside him. I couldn’t climb up fast enough. Once I was in place, he handed me a sack of olives. I ate five before realizing that he probably hadn’t intended for me to eat them all. There were only a few left. Before I could debate the wisdom of my actions, I ate them too.

Now that we were alone, I wanted to ask Felix about the scratch from Caela, or whatever mark he said was there instead. With Aurelia watching me so carefully from the wagon, I hadn’t dared feel for it again, but the mark wasn’t my only concern. The bulla still hidden beneath my tunic warmed every time I thought about the mark. It was warming now, in fact. Surely that was no coincidence.

“Thanks for the olives,” I said to Felix. It seemed like a safe way to begin the conversation.

“Where did you get the bulla?” Obviously, Felix was more direct than me.

I scratched my head while I considered an answer, and finally came up with, “I found it.” It might not be the full story, but it was true enough for his question.

“How long have you had it?”

“Only a couple of days.”

“And that mark on your shoulder was a scratch from the griffin?”

“Nothing was there before, not until the scratch. What is the mark?”

Felix sighed. “The shape is unmistakable: a circle of fire, with a trail behind it like smoke. The entire mark is blood-colored.”

“And what does it mean?”

“It means you’re in a lot more trouble than you know.” Felix pointed ahead to a massive brick wall that he said now surrounded the entire city of Rome. “They say it’s to keep the barbarians out. But I sometimes wonder if the real barbarians don’t already live inside these walls.”

The arched wooden gate through which our wagons would enter was large enough for a giant and wide enough for men to walk across it from above. Spaced apart every hundred feet were square turrets to protect Roman soldiers if they had to fight during an invasion. As we came closer, several men blocked the road and held up hands for us to stop. They wore the same red-cloaked uniforms as the soldiers who had come to the mines with Radulf, and that was enough to make me uncomfortable. Were they involved in his treason too?

I pressed a hand against the bulla at my side, then noticed it vibrate beneath my touch.

Felix noticed. “Don’t do that,” he said. “Put your hands in your lap and try to look relaxed.” I obeyed and he added, “I’ll want to see that bulla next time we’re alone.”

Maybe. I didn’t really want to show him, but he seemed to know more about it than I did. Besides, if my troubles were as bad as he suggested, then I definitely needed someone’s help.

When we drew up to the soldiers, Felix told them who he was and about the griffin he was bringing in.

A soldier eyed me. “You have new slaves too?”

“Just this one.” Felix’s tone was relaxed, a reminder for me not to look as guilt-ridden as I felt. He brushed his arm toward me, pushing my hand away from the bulla again, and then added, “He isn’t worth much, but he’ll be of some use with the animals.”

“Since when does a worthless slave ride up front with his master?” The soldier drew his sword and used it to point at me. “Climb down here, boy.”

What if Radulf had told them to watch for a slave with a bulla? What if they saw the tear in my tunic? My heart pounded as I considered my options, all of which ended with me on Caela’s back, attempting to outrace the soldiers’ arrows. Or Aurelia’s knife — I wasn’t sure whose side she’d be on. Either way, Caela would have to break herself out.

As if she had heard my thoughts, there was a sudden banging in the caravan, so fierce it nearly overturned the wagon. The soldiers jumped back and Felix began shouting about letting us pass before his cargo became truly angry. But I was more focused on a sizzling sting in my shoulder that seemed connected to Caela’s squawking. She
had
heard my thoughts. Just as the mark was a part of me now, and the bulla, she had become a part of me too.

“Move on,” the soldier shouted, waving us on. “Get that animal into a cage where it belongs!” Felix immediately obeyed, though he brushed my hand away from the bulla yet again as we passed between the gates.

“It’s safe now,” I communicated to Caela. “Be calm.” And as she settled down, the sting in my shoulder eased too.

“Can you explain what just happened?” Felix muttered.

“No.” Well, I
could
explain it, but I
wouldn’t
. Not until I better understood it myself.

Minutes later, as we crossed the bridge over the Tiber River, I began breathing more evenly, and Felix’s knuckles around the horse’s reins were no longer white. The river was wide and powerful, though I wasn’t sure how deep it went. I only knew that I didn’t care to find out. On the opposite side, a small brick arch was dug into the bank with dark water pouring into the river.