Disappointed by the question, Portia had shrugged. ‘He suffered dreadfully in the cold. Frostbite, the surgeon says. But he should recover in time to join my uncle.’

‘That’s good.’ Marcus nodded again.

They had stared at each other a moment before she took his hands and squeezed them gently. Marcus felt something pressed into his palm, then she turned and ran, brushing the corner of her eye.

Marcus had stood by the heavy gate to the street as Caesar’s doorman opened it. With a last glance at Portia’s retreating back, he left the house. Outside he had opened his hand and seen a heavy golden ring in his palm. A ruby gleamed brilliantly in its setting, like a tear of blood.

Now, standing on the deck of the ship, Marcus recalled the scene. Through the cloth of his tunic he felt the chain round his neck and the bulk of the ring at the end of it. Though saddened at the prospect of never seeing Portia again, there had never been any question of their friendship being more than a closely guarded secret. It was for the best, he decided reluctantly.

‘What’s the matter, Marcus?’

He turned to see Lupus, standing with feet apart, one hand grasping a rope to steady himself on the heaving deck.

‘It’s nothing.’ Marcus made himself smile back. ‘Just thinking.’

‘You should be rejoicing. You’re back in Greece. We’ll soon find your mother, you’ll see.’

Marcus nodded. Then both of them turned to the other side of the ship as a deep groan sounded across the deck. Festus stood hunched over the rail and his body heaved as he tried to vomit again.

Lupus chuckled. ‘There’s one at least who’ll rejoice at the prospect of reaching shore. Who’d have thought that tough old Festus would have the constitution of a lamb the moment he stepped on board ship?’

Marcus laughed, then looked fondly at his companion. ‘You’re in a fine mood today.’

‘Why shouldn’t I be?’ Lupus grinned. ‘I am free. For the first time in my life. It’s the first thought that fills my mind every morning. There is no better thing in this world.’ His expression grew more serious. ‘And I have you to thank for it.’

Marcus felt a warm glow of pleasure. Even though he had prevented a bloody massacre, those he had saved were still slaves. Only Lupus had been freed from bondage. But it was a start, he told himself. One small step along the way to ... what? A greater destiny? Perhaps. But for now only one thing mattered. The single purpose that had carried him through Porcino’s gladiator school, the vicious streets of Rome and the icy perils of the Apennine mountains — his burning desire to rescue his mother. Now that time had come.

Legionare

Legionary

About the author

About the author