The Protector (14 page)

Naturally, Quintus wanted his life back. His freedom was precious. Why stay a slave to a woman with nothing of value to offer? He didn’t need her fortune and he’d made it clear in the hospital he didn’t want her body. Given the option of regaining his freedom or remaining with her, why wouldn’t he choose gold over dross?

J
ust as Quintus insisted, he and Adiona sailed from Neopolis at sunrise. The short voyage offered splendid views of the southern coast. A narrow ribbon of white beach separated the azure sea from the jagged mountain peaks that stretched toward an equally blue sky. Colorful villages fanned out along the mountain face only to fade into terraced groves of citrus and olive trees. Wildflowers in bright hues of yellow, orange and fuchsia added a riot of color to the sun-dappled greenery of the lush valleys.

At Quintus’s direction, the hired captain steered the sailboat into a private cove and docked at a long pier constructed of a series of cement arches.

The pier led to the beach and a winding set of stairs cut into the mountainside. The villa at the end of the stairs halfway up the mountain was nothing short of magnificent. Constructed of stone with marble columns, arched doors, and balconies overlooking the sea, the palatial residence seemed carved from its surroundings.

“This is all
yours?
” Adiona asked as Quintus lifted her from the boat. The villa rivaled any of her properties and surpassed most.

“It was,” he said impassively, taking their satchels from the captain and slinging them over his shoulder. “Now it belongs to my brother.”

Sensing unease in Quintus, Adiona hooked her arm with his as they walked up the pier. He raised his eyebrow at her familiarity. “What?” she asked innocently.

“I’m still a slave,” he said. “At the marriage fete last Friday you said you’d be embarrassed to be seen touching me.”

“Yes, well, things have changed.”

“Why?” he asked with a dubious smile. “Because you know I’m rich?”

Because I love you,
she thought, looking up into his gleaming green eyes. “Of course, it’s because you’re rich. Why else?”

His expression soured. “At least you’re honest.”

A flock of birds landed on the beach, running to and fro in time to the gentle melody of the surf. A cool breeze tempered the warmth of the sun on her face. Adiona wished she knew how to tell him how much she cared for him. How he’d brought her heart to life. But love was new to her experience and although Quintus no longer seemed to despise her, he’d made no declaration of any softer emotions, either. Riddled with frustration and lacking enough bravado on this one particular subject to simply state her piece, she said the first thing that came to mind. “You don’t seem happy to be here, Quintus.”

“I’m…pleased.” He led her across the short stretch of beach between the pier and the steps. “In fact, it’s the first time I’ve felt like myself in months.”

“Then why the dour expression?” she asked as they started up the stairs.

“Something is wrong, though I’m not sure what.”

“Do you think my enemies—?”

“No, no,” he said, quick to reassure her. “You’re safe here.”

The higher they rose on the steps, the stronger the wind. The slave’s garb she’d donned as a disguise before leaving Neopolis fluttered like a sail in a storm. She clasped the whipping tendrils of her hair back with her hand. “Then what’s troubling you? All looks well. The villa is beautiful.”

“Normally, this cove is alive with activity. Boats are docked up and down the pier. People coming and going. A phalanx of servants would have met me on the beach when I arrived…now, the place is deserted.”

“How many slaves did you keep?” she asked, thinking how strange and difficult his loss of status must have been for a proud man like Quintus. Judging by the grandiose villa before her, a winter residence at most, he must have relinquished an even greater fortune for his beliefs than she’d realized. A part of him must regret his decision. How could he not?

On the sail to Neopolis, he’d spoken of earning riches as if it were a game, but obtaining wealth was more than a trivial pursuit. She worked incessantly to maintain her fortune and place in society because money and position meant safety and security in a world that offered too little of either.

“I stopped keeping slaves not long after I became a believer in the Way.”

Her forehead puckered at the odd notion. “Why?”

They reached the top of the stairs. A brick terrace covered the expanse between the villa’s wide front steps and the intricately carved stone railing that provided a protective barrier from the cliff’s edge.

“When I studied our texts, I realized God loves and sees everyone as equals.”

“Even slaves?” she asked, intrigued enough by the novel idea to drag her eyes from the awe-inspiring view of the sea and mountainous cliffs that formed the cove. “What about women?”

“Yes. Slaves and women, too,” he said.

Perplexed, she tried to internalize the concept of equality as they crossed the terrace and mounted the villa’s front steps. In truth, she’d never heard such a radical notion. All of society thought females were on par with chattel. A woman’s value was defined by the honor she brought to her father through the status of her marriage and the number of children she bore for her husband.

Adiona had failed to give her husband children, dishonoring Crassus, and in turn, her father. When Crassus condemned her as worthless, he’d maimed her, but he’d said no more than what everyone else considered the truth because she’d broken the natural order.

“I’ve wondered why you seem untouched by your slave status? It’s because you don’t think of yourself as inferior, do you?”

“No. I try to see myself, and everyone else, through God’s eyes. People judge a man by his circumstances, but God’s opinion doesn’t alter with the change of my clothes or the amount of coin I have from one day to the next.”

Afraid of how his God viewed her, she lifted her chin in a show of indifference even though her heart raced. “So you freed your people and, what…paid them a wage?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “There was no other option if I intended to stay true to my beliefs.”

She stared at him, incredulous. He was even more out of step with society than she was and her admiration for
him knew no bounds. Hypocrites infested Rome at every level. To find someone so true left her stunned.

“I suppose you think my actions were foolish.”

“From a financial standpoint? Most certainly.”

He laughed. “What would you have done?”

Her brows puckered. “I suppose if I wish to court your good opinion—”

“Which, of course, you don’t.”

She grinned. “But
if
I did, I should pretend to be altruistic and say I agree with you, but to be honest…I don’t know.”

Quintus led her up the steps and tried to open the front door. The massive portal was locked. He groaned. “Barred from my own home.”

Her eyes rounded. “What will we do?”

“Wait and see.” He knocked on the door. A few moments later a voice sounded from inside the house.

“Libo,” Quintus called, relieved. “It’s Quintus Ambustus. Open the door.”

“Take your pranks somewhere else,” a reedy voice wheezed. “You’re not welcome here.”

Color scored Quintus’s lean cheeks. Whether he was angry or embarrassed, Adiona didn’t know which.

He pounded on the door again. “Libo, this is no joke. Where is my brother? I know Lucius passed by here recently.”

A long moment passed. The door opened a crack and a man’s craggy face appeared. “Master Quintus?” Libo’s voice shook. “Is it really you?”

Quintus laughed. “It is, my friend. Let me in and you can see for yourself.”

Shock rippled across the old man’s leathered features. To Adiona’s amazement, tears welled in Libo’s eyes. He yanked open the door. “Praise be to God, our
prayers have been answered!” The old man threw his arms around Quintus and Adiona stifled a laugh at his startled reaction. “Forgive me,
dominus.
” Libo collected himself and scrubbed the moisture from his face. “Your brother told us you were dead. Everyone’s gone, save the wife and me.”

“How is Bernice?”

“She lives, but things have been better.”

Quintus reached for Adiona without taking his attention off Libo, who continued a sorrowful account of the numerous woes that had befallen the villa since Quintus’s arrest. Adiona grimaced as Quintus’s grip tightened with each new complaint. Loath to pull away when he seemed to need her, she distracted herself from the pain in her hand by nudging him into the villa.

Sunlight and the distant crash of waves on the shore streamed into the space through large westward-facing windows. The splash of a fountain drew her eyes to an interior garden that was lush to the point of being overgrown.

Quintus introduced her to Libo as his guest once they were inside the spacious, circular reception hall. Even though he was polite, the servant paid her little attention. As the men continued their discussion, she admired the multicolored tiled floor and the intricate gardenscape painted on the walls. She also noted the empty niches and lack of furniture that spoke of the family’s shifting fortune.

“Let me understand this,” Quintus said, sounding incredulous once Libo finished his rambling. “Lucius has been staying here for months, but he’s failed to pay you and the others?”

Libo noticed the satchels Quintus carried and took
them from him. “That’s so,
dominus.
Bernice and me had funds saved from the healthy wages you always paid us, but Dacien’s wife delivered their fourth child and Maro wished to get married. Tullia’s father died…she had to get work at the bakery in town to help her mother. Pul—”

“I understand.” Quintus interrupted with a wave of his hand. “They were right to seek out other work. I’m sorry I let them down.”

Adiona bit her lower lip. She doubted the servant heard the pain of failure in Quintus’s voice, but
she
did. She slipped her hand into his callused palm, hoping to lend him support. He didn’t reject her and she basked in the knowledge that he needed her for a few moments longer at least. He brushed the pad of his thumb across her fingertips, sending a delightful shiver up her arm.

A short time later, Libo returned to his work. Quintus led Adiona to a room on the second floor overlooking the cove. Awash with light, the chamber’s unfashionable white walls gave the space an airy feel that Adiona instantly favored. Rare purple textiles draped the bed and windows. Gleaming white tiles covered the entire floor. “This is a beautiful room, Quintus.”

He nodded. “It was my mother’s. She had simple tastes, but everything she touched became a thing of beauty.”

Looking at Quintus, she found it easy to believe his mother had been a remarkable woman. Her son was exceptional—honest, responsible, loyal, proud in the best possible sense.

She moved deeper into the chamber. A carved wood desk sat in front of the window, covered by alabaster jars and jeweled boxes. “Thank you for letting me stay here. It’s an honor.”

“I meant it as such.” He tugged at his hair. A smile curved his lips as he hooked the strap of her satchel on the back of the desk’s chair. “That and the fact I knew it would be the last room my brother ransacked for heirlooms to pilfer.”

She moved to the window, uncertain of his mood since he seemed equal parts amused and aggravated. “Is your brother like Drusus? Always interested in gaining coin for himself?”

Quintus released a deep breath. “No, Lucius has little in common with your heir. He’s light of heart and a friend to all.”

“Is that the problem?” she asked. “Too many friends, too little purse?”

“Something like that.”

“What are you going to do, Quintus?”

“I’m going to pray and put the situation in God’s hands.” He walked to the door. “Then I’m going to find Lucius and try not to put my new gladiatorial skills to good use.”

Four days later, Caros Viriathos and ten of his best gladiators arrived in Neopolis. Vexed for having to leave Pelonia in Rome while he dealt with Adiona’s weak-minded heir, Caros led his men through the winding streets to Drusus’s villa. In the week since Adiona’s attack, none of the spies he or Adiona’s steward kept on retainer had failed to find the first clue to her assassin’s identity. Frustrated, he prayed that if Drusus
was
responsible he’d discover the necessary evidence to prove the man’s guilt and see the matter put to rest.

As he and his men dismounted in the villa’s front yard, the afternoon was rife with the odor of horses
and sweat caused by the driving pace the group had set from Rome.

Otho met them on the front steps. “
Lanista,
good to see you, sir. The lady’s heir has been screeching for justice these last four days. Me and Rufus are nearly deaf from all the racket.”

Caros chuckled. “David and Seth returned to Ostia on the journey back here. They told me of the adder in the widow’s bed and Quintus’s wisdom in removing the lady to safety. Is there anything else to report?”

“Neh. Except for the whining, it’s been as uneventful as a grave.”

Inside the villa’s reception hall, Caros curled his lip at the repugnant display of snakes painted on the walls and tiled onto the floor. “Where is the viper?”

“Drusus was locked in his room on Quintus’s order. He’s had no visitors save one of his neighbors. An older woman who brought food and water.”

“Tell me, does Drusus seem repentant?”

“He says he was framed.”

“You’ve observed him these last few days,” Caros said. “What do you think of his claim?”

Otho drummed his fingers on the table beside him. “I think he’s half-crazed.”

“And the other half?”

“I don’t know.” The young gladiator shrugged. “The old dog doesn’t seem savvy enough to plot murder. If he was upset the widow escaped unharmed, he didn’t show it. In fact, he’s barely mentioned her, but he’s still grieving the death of his ‘pet.’”

Deep in contemplation, Caros turned to leave.

“He’s adamant to talk to you, sir. Shall I bring him down?” Otho asked.

Caros paused and rubbed his chin. “Since he’s
adamant,
by all means, bring him down. He can wait in his office.”

An hour later, Caros made his way to meet Drusus. Having washed off the travel dust and eaten a meal, he now felt confident he could speak to the man without harming him.