“I should hope so, you are not old,” Tubruk replied, trying to relax and enjoy his friend’s company as he had so many times over the years.

“You think not? Many of those we knew have gone on to cause mischief in the silent lands by now. Disease took Rapas and he was the strongest man I ever met. At the end, they say his son put him over his shoulder to carry him out into the sun. Can you imagine anyone putting that great ox over their shoulder? Even a son of his! It is a terrible thing to grow old.”

“You have Ilita and your daughters. She hasn’t left you yet?” Tubruk murmured.

Fercus snorted into his wine. “Not yet, though she still threatens to every year. In truth, you need a good, fat woman yourself. They hold off the old age wonderfully, you know. And keep your feet warm at night, as well.”

“I am too set in my ways for new love,” Tubruk replied. “Where would I find a woman willing to put up with me? No, I’ve found a family of sorts at the estate. I can’t imagine another.”

Fercus nodded, his eyes missing nothing of the tension that filled the old gladiator’s frame. He was prepared to wait until Tubruk felt ready to broach the reason for his sudden visit. He knew the man well enough not to hurry him, as much as he knew that he would help in any way he could. It wasn’t just a matter of the debts he owed, though they were many; it was the fact that Tubruk was a man he respected and liked. There was no malice in him and he was strong in ways that Fercus had rarely seen.

Mentally, he tallied up his holdings and available gold. If it was a matter of money that was needed, there had been better times, but he had reserves and debts of his own that could be called in.

“How’s business?” Tubruk asked, unconsciously matching Fercus’s own thoughts.

Fercus shrugged, but stopped the light reply before it left his lips.

“I have funds,” he said. “There is always a need for slaves in Rome, as you know.”

Tubruk looked steadily at the man who had once sold him to be trained for combat in front of thousands. Even then, as a young quarry slave who knew nothing of the world or the training to come, he had seen that Fercus was never cruel to those who passed through his sales. He remembered despairing on the night before he was sent to the training pens, when his mind turned to ways of ending his life. Fercus had stopped by him as he walked his rounds and told him that if he had heart and strength, he could buy himself free and still have most of his life ahead of him.

“I will come back on that day and kill you,” Tubruk had said to the man.

Fercus had held his gaze for a long time before replying. “I hope not,” he had said. “I hope you will ask me to share a cup of wine.”