BooksBarbecue
Back The House with the Golden Door Save as PDF
Chapters (60)
  1. Cover
  2. PRAISE FOR
  3. PRAISE FOR
  4. Dedication
  5. 75 CE
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. FLORALIA
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. LEMURIA
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. NEMORALIA
  38. 30
  39. 31
  40. 32
  41. 33
  42. 34
  43. 35
  44. 36
  45. 37
  46. 38
  47. 39
  48. 40
  49. 76 CE
  50. 41
  51. 42
  52. 43
  53. 44
  54. 45
  55. 46
  56. 47
  57. 48
  58. EPILOGUE
  59. AFTERWORD
  60. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

“You’re drunk,” Rufus replies. “You should do what Drusilla says: enjoy one of the girls and sleep it off.” He takes Amara’s hand and leads her from the room. She does not dare to look back, feeling guilty at leaving Victoria in such a poisonous atmosphere. She holds on tighter to Rufus, reminding herself that she is not making a profit from Victoria’s suffering: all the money Victoria earns tonight will go toward paying Felix for her freedom. “Quintus didn’t mean what he said,” Rufus mutters, mistaking the cause of her distress, and Amara squeezes his hand in answer.

In the atrium, Philos, Juventus and Drusilla’s doorman are sitting on the floor, playing dice by the light of a single lamp. Philos jumps instantly to his feet at his master’s approach. The anger Rufus suppressed at Quintus boils over at the easier target of his slaves. He berates them both for idling, especially his steward. “I would have thought better of you,” he snaps, shoving Philos toward the door. Amara has seen other men treat their slaves much worse—and received worse herself—but this is the first time she has ever seen Rufus raise his hand against another. Any lingering affection she felt for him that evening is snuffed out by the sight of Philos stumbling.

They step onto the darkened street, Juventus walking ahead with a lamp, Philos following with another behind. For the entirety of their short journey, Amara wants to turn around, to look at Philos, to tell him with her eyes that she is sorry. But she does not dare.

They reach the tall, golden door of the rented house, its myriad metal studs shining in the moonlight. Juventus cannot find the keys and fumbles with the lock while Rufus swears under his breath, huffing with impatience. Amara turns to the side, as if glancing down the street, but instead, she looks at Philos. He stares back, and then, when she keeps holding his gaze, long past the point a woman should stare into a man’s eyes, he smiles. Before Amara can answer with a smile of her own, Rufus tugs on her arm, pulling her into the darkened hallway of the house.

15

“Even woods and the wilder aspects of Nature furnish medicines, for there is no place where Nature has not provided remedies for mankind—so that the desert itself has become a chemist’s shop.”

—Pliny the Elder, Natural History