take his head off,’ Gaius said cheerfully.
‘I thought about it, but accidents happen in training. He just went too far, that's all. For what it's worth, he's proud of both of you. I think the old bastard developed a liking for you, probably for your stubbornness – you're as bad as he is, I think.’
‘How is Marcus?’ Gaius asked.
‘Itching to get in here, of course. You might try to convince him it wasn't his fault. He says he should have forced you to let him fight first, but …’
‘It was my decision and I don't regret it. I lived, after all.’
Tubruk snorted. ‘Don't become overconfident. It makes a man believe in the power of prayer to see you survive a wound like that. If it wasn't for Cabera, you would not have survived it. You do owe him your life. Your father has been trying to get him to accept some sort of reward, but he won't take anything except his keep. I still don't really know why he is here. He seems to believe … that we are moved by the gods like we throw dice, and they wanted him to see the glorious city of Rome before he was too old.’ The bluff freedman looked perplexed and Gaius thought that it wouldn't help to mention his strange memory of the heat from Cabera's hands. That would keep, no doubt.
‘I will get some soup brought in. Would you like some fresh bread with it?’
Gaius' stomach agreed wholeheartedly and Tubruk left, smiling once again.
Renius gained the saddle of his gelding with difficulty. His left arm felt useless, the pain more than the simple ache of healing gashes he had known so many times before.
He was pleased there were no servants or slaves around to see his clumsiness. The great estate house seemed deserted.
At last, he was able to grip the body of the horse with his legs, allowing his muscles to support their weight. Even with evening coming on, he would make it back to the city before complete darkness. He sighed at the thought. What was there, really, for him now? He would sell his town house, although the prices had dropped during the rioting. Perhaps it would be better to wait until the streets were quiet again. With Sulla leading his legion into the city, there would be executions and public floggings, but order would eventually be restored. It had happened before. The Romans did not like war on their doorstep. They thrilled to hear of broken armies of barbarians, but no one enjoyed the brutality of martial law, with a curfew and the scarcity of food that would inevitably …
He heard a sound behind him and his thoughts were interrupted.
Marcus stood watching him, his face calm. ‘I came to wish you goodbye.’
Almost unconsciously, Renius noticed the developed shoulders and the easy way of standing the boy had. He would make a name for himself in some future the old warrior would not be there to see.
A shiver touched him at the thought. No one lives for ever, not an Alexander, not a Scipio or a Hannibal, not even a Renius.
‘I am glad Gaius is healing,’ Renius replied, clearly.
‘I know. I did not come to be angry at you, but to apologise,’ Marcus replied, looking at the sand at his feet.
Renius raised his eyebrows.
Marcus took a deep breath. ‘I am sorry I did not kill you, you twisted, evil bastard. If our paths ever cross in later years, I will take your throat out.’
Renius swayed in the saddle, as if the words were blows. He could feel the hatred and it cheered him up immensely. Laughter threatened to overcome him as the little cockerel made its threats, but he realised he could give a last gift to his pupil, if he chose his words carefully.
‘Such hatred will kill you, boy. And then you won't be there to protect Gaius.’
‘I will always be there for him.’
‘No. Not until you can keep your temper. You will die in some brawl in a stinking bar room, unless you can find calm in yourself. You would have killed me, yes; at my age, my stamina melts faster than I care to admit. But if we had met when I was young, I would have cut through you faster than corn falls to the knife. Remember that the next time you meet a young man with a reputation to make.’ Renius grinned then and it was like seeing the teeth of a shark, lips sliding back over a cruel expression.
‘He may get the chance sooner than you think,’ Cabera said, coming out of the shadows.
‘What? You were listening, you old devil?’ Renius said, still smiling, although his expression eased at the sight of the healer, whom he had come to respect.
‘Look to the city. You will not be going anywhere tonight, I think,’ Cabera continued, his expression serious.
Both Marcus and Renius turned to look out over the hills. Although Rome was hidden by the rise of the land, an orange glow grew brighter as they watched in horror.
‘Jupiter's balls – they've set the city on fire!’ Renius spat. His beloved city.
For a moment, he thought of spurring the horse away, knowing his place should be in the streets. Men knew his face, he could help restore order. A cool hand touched his ankle and he looked down into the face of old Cabera.
‘I see the future occasionally. If you go there now, you will be dead by dawn. This is truth.’
Renius shifted his weight and the gelding clopped its hooves on the sand, feeling his emotions.
‘And if I stay?’ he snapped.
Cabera shrugged. ‘You may die here too. The slaves will be coming to loot this place. We don't have long now.’
Marcus gaped at the words. There were close to five hundred slaves on the estate. If they all went wild, there would be butchery. Without another word, he ran back into the buildings, shouting for Tubruk to raise the alarm.
‘Would you like a hand dismounting from that fine gelding?’ asked Cabera, his eyes wide and innocent.
Renius grimaced, suddenly able to muster his usual anger despite the cheerful old man.
‘The gods don't tell us what is going to happen,’ he said.
Cabera smiled wistfully. ‘I used to believe that. When I was young and arrogant I used to think I could somehow read people, see their true selves and guess at what they would do. It was years before I was humble enough to know it could not be me. It isn't like glancing through a clear window. I just look at you and towards the city and I feel death. Why not? Many men have talents that could almost be magic to those without them. Think of it like that if it makes you more comfortable. Come on. You will be needed here tonight.’
Renius snorted. ‘I suppose you have made a lot of money with this talent of yours?’
‘Once or twice I have, but money does not stay with me. It steals out into the hands of wine merchants and loose women and gamblers. All I have is my experiences, but they are worth more than coin.’
After a few moments of thought, Renius accepted the helping hand and was not surprised to find it steady and strong, not after seeing those skinny shoulders pull the heavy bow in the training yard.
‘You will have to hold my scabbard for me, old man.
