The two men stood close, both of them rigid with tension. The silence between them grew, but neither one looked away. Then Julius shuddered and the manic quality went from his eyes. Tubruk remained, glaring at him, needing him to concede the point. Finally, the young man spoke.

“All right, Tubruk. But if the Sullans ever come for her, or for you, there must be no link back to my family.”

“Do not ask me for that!” Tubruk replied, furious. “I have served your family for decades. I will not give my blood and hers as well! I love her, Julius, and she loves me. My duty, my love for you, will not stretch to hurting her. It will not happen.

“In any case, I know there is no path from Sulla to me, or to you. I have blood on my hands to prove it.”

When Julius spoke again, his voice was heavy with weariness. “Then you must leave. I have funds enough to set you up somewhere far from Rome. I can free Clodia and you can take her with you.”

Tubruk clenched his jaw. “And your mother? Who will look after her?”

All the passion faded from the younger man, leaving him exhausted and empty. “There is Cornelia, and I can hire another nurse. What other choice is there, Tubruk? Do you think I want this? You have been with me all my life. I can barely imagine not having you to run the estate, but the Sullans are still searching for the assassins, you know that. Oh gods, Pompey’s daughter!”

He froze in horror as the implications of the death hit home. His voice was a hoarse whisper.

“They struck blind. Cornelia is already in danger!” he said. Without another word, he scrambled into a run back toward the estate, cutting left to the narrow bridge across the stream. Tubruk swore and raced after him, unable to close the gap on his tired legs. As soon as it had been said, the old gladiator knew Julius was right and panic touched him then. To lose Cornelia after all he had done to protect her made him want to cry out in anger as he forced a faster pace, ignoring the pain.

*                                                      *                                                      *

Cornelia had slept as lightly as her husband, and when the two men arrived panting back at the estate, she was with Clodia and Julia, discussing a trip into the city. She heard Julius calling for his soldiers and rose from the couch, her nervousness evident. Despite the moments of tenderness he’d shown her, he was not the man who’d left Rome in flames behind him years before. His innocence had gone from him, perhaps with the scars that he wouldn’t talk about. There were times when she thought there were no more tears inside her for what Sulla had taken from both of them.

When he came storming into the room, her eyes widened nervously.

“What is it?” she asked.