look very much like your mother,” Marcus said.
“No,” the boy said.
The moment Marcus relaxed his grip, the boy slipped from Marcus’s grasp and bolted for the open door.
Marcus watched him run past the slave and into his mother’s arms, knocking her to the ground with the force of his crazed embrace.
Marcus knew they were both crying, and he called the slave off.
“Leave them be,” Marcus said. “They have much to talk about.”
Marcus walked into the villa, trying to remember what it was that had brought him in.
The bags. That was it. He needed bags for the sheep’s wool.
His father met him halfway down the villa walkway.
“I think we need to talk,” his father said, and pulled Marcus into his study.
“Who was the child?” his father asked.
“The son of Annia, the woman we brought in last night.”
His father looked past him into the atrium where water flowed peacefully into the impluvium from the openmouthed cherubs.
“I fear this child spells trouble for us all,” he said.
“Yes,” Marcus said, “but the trouble began before the child came, though he has certainly multiplied it. One of my men reported to me this morning that Galerius Janius—the man who ordered the baby exposed—does not believe she was actually exposed.”
“Do you think he will come looking for you?” his father asked.
“He already has,” Marcus said. “In the barracks. There is no danger of him following me home. The men don’t know where I live,” he added.
“And the boy?” his father queried. “How did he find you?”
“I think he must have followed me from his father’s house. I saw him watching us from the window when I reported to the father that the deed was done.” Marcus squirmed uncomfortably on the small wooden folding bench that sat in front of his father’s massive ivory-inlaid ebony desk.
“Do you think anyone followed him?” his father said.
“I don’t think so,” Marcus said, “though I can’t be sure.”
“Well,” his father said, “we must do what we can to protect the other women and children we have housed here. We can’t risk the lives of so many.”
“What do you propose, Father?” Marcus asked.
“They must go.”
“Go?” Marcus repeated. “But where?”
“Far from here,” his father said.
“Give me two days, Father. I think I might be able to come up with another solution.”
His father studied him. “You are an experienced soldier. Battle-hardened and wise. But something about this woman... Otherwise, why would you risk so many lives?”
Marcus felt his stomach tighten. “I know what it must seem like to you, Father, but I think that a better plan can be found. And you needn’t worry. She is not the right woman for me. But it is a matter of honor to protect her.” He believed his own words. She was not the right woman for him. But she was lovely.
“Make it fast, son,” his father said. “You have no time to lose.”
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