The boy flickered a glance after the couple further along the road, an answer in itself. Brutus did not follow the look, but simply held out the coin.

“Is she doing well?” he asked.

The boy looked cynically at him, eyeing the silver and clearly caught between fear and need. “Everyone knows her. She won’t let me in the shop, though.”

“You’d steal the brooches, I should think,” Brutus said with a wink.

The boy shrugged. “Maybe. What do you want for the coin?”

“I want to know if she wears a ring on her hand,” Brutus replied.

The boy thought for a moment, rubbing his nose and leaving a silvery trail on his skin. “A slave ring?”

Brutus chuckled. “No, lad, a gold marriage band on the fourth finger.”

The boy still looked suspicious, but his eyes never left the promised reward. At last, he came to a decision and reached for it. “I’ve seen a ring. She has a baby at home, they say. Tabbic is the one who owns the shop. He hit me once,” he said in a rush.

Brutus chuckled and let him take the coin. On impulse, he reached into his pouch and brought out a gold aureus. The boy’s expression changed the instant he saw it, going from confidence to frightened anger.

“Do you want it?” Brutus said.

The child scrambled away at high speed, leaving Brutus bemused behind him. No doubt the boy had never seen gold before and thought it would mean his death to own such a thing. Brutus sighed. If the local wolves found out he had such a treasure, it probably would. Shaking his head, he put the coin back in the pouch.

“I thought it was you, General,” a voice came.

Brutus looked down at Tabbic as the jeweler strolled onto the road and patted his horse’s neck. His bald head gleamed from the forges and white chest hairs tufted over the apron he wore, but he was still the same steady figure Brutus remembered.

“Who else?” Brutus replied, forcing a smile.

Tabbic squinted upwards as he rubbed the horse’s muzzle, seeing eyes still red with tears and anger. “Will you come in and try a drink with me?” Tabbic said. “I’ll have a boy stable this fine mount of yours.” When he saw Brutus hesitate, he went on. “There’s spiced wine on the forge, too much for me.”

He looked away as he asked, making it easy to refuse. Perhaps that was why Brutus nodded and swung a leg over the saddle.

“Just the one then, if you can make it strong. I’m going far tonight,” he said.