'Please, forgive,' I said, surprised at how little effort it took to sound meek and humble in the face of two giants bearing steel blades. 'We're the slaves of young Marcus Valerius Messalla Rufus.
We were sent upstairs to fetch him, before the entertainment began. We lost our way — so stupid!'
'And is that why you're spying on the master of this house and his guests?' Magnus hissed. He and Glaucia separated and approached from two sides, like the flanks of an army.
'We paused here, just to have a look over the balcony and get some fresh air.' I shrugged, keeping my hands in sight and doing my best to appear pathetic and confused. I glanced at Tiro and saw that he was following my lead admirably, or else was simply frightened out of his wits. ‘We heard the singing, found the little window — stupid and presumptuous of us, of course, and I'm sure the young master will see that we're beaten for such insolence. It's just that it's not often we have the chance to look down on a gathering of such splendour.'
Magnus grabbed me by the shoulder and shoved me onto the balcony, into the moonlight. Glaucia pushed Tiro against me so that I tripped backwards against the waist-high brick wall and had to grab the edge to steady myself. I looked over my shoulder. The yawning abyss below resolved into a grassy knoll dappled by the moon shadow of the cypress trees. From below, the balcony had not looked nearly so far from the ground.
Magnus pulled at my hair and poked the tip of his blade into the soft flesh below my chin, forcing me to turn and face him. 'I've seen you before,' he whispered. 'Glaucia, look here! Where do we know this dog from?'
The blond giant scrutinized me, pouted his lips, and wrinkled his forehead. He shook his head, baffled. 'Don't know,' he grunted: Then his face lit up. 'Ameria,' he said. 'Remember, Magnus? Just the other day, on the road, right before we got to Capito's villa. He was corning the other way, riding alone.'
Magnus snarled at me. 'Who are you? What are you doing here?' The knife pressed harder, until I felt the skin break. I imagined my blood trickling down the blade. Never mind who I am, I wanted to say. I know who you are, both of you. You murdered your cousin in cold blood and stole his estates. And you broke into my home and left a bloody message on my wall. You would have murdered Bethesda if you'd had the chance. You'd probably have raped her first.
I brought my knee up with a jerk, straight into Magnus's crotch. By reflex he reached downward. The blade ripped against my tunic, grazing my chest. No matter; I knew I was doomed anyway — Glaucia was right beside him with his dagger poised to strike. I braced myself for the blow to my heart. I even heard it, a sickening sound of ruptured flesh.
Except that no one had stabbed me, and Glaucia had tumbled to his knees, dropping his blade and grasping his head. Tiro stood over him holding a bloody brick in his hand. 'It came loose from the wall,' he explained, staring at it in amazement.
Neither of us thought to reach for Glaucia's blade, but Magnus did. He snatched it up and retreated a few steps, then advanced with a blade in each hand, snorting like a Cretan bull.
I was over the wall before I even realized it, as if my body had leaped and left my head behind. I was falling through blackness, but not alone. To one side and a little above me, another body was dropping through space — Tiro. A little beyond him, plummeting like a burnt-out comet, was a fragment of brick, tumbling end over end and smeared with blood that glinted purple in the blue moonlight. Magnus was a furious face that peered over a wall high above, flanked by two upright daggers, growing smaller by the instant.
Part Three
Justice
27
Something remarkably hard and immense rushed up and struck me from below: packed, dry earth. As if I'd been scooped up by a giant's hand, I felt myself pitched forwards, rolling head over heels and then abruptly coming to a complete stop. Beside me I heard Tiro moaning. He was complaining about something, but his words were slurred and indistinct. For a moment I forgot about Magnus entirely. All I could think of was how remarkably thin the air is, and how extraordinarily dense the ground seems by contrast. Then I came to my senses and looked up.
Magnus's glowering face seemed incredibly far away; how could I have possibly jumped such a distance? There was no chance that he would follow — no sane man would take such a leap except to save his life. Nor would Magnus dare to raise a general alarm, not with Sulla in the house — that would risk raising too many questions and unpleasant complications. We were as good as free, I thought. In the time it would take Magnus to scurry through hallways and down stairs we would have long since disappeared into the night. Why then was he suddenly smiling?
The sound of a moan drew my eyes to Tiro, who shivered on his hands and knees beside me on the parched grass. He rose to his feet, or tried to, then fell helplessly forwards; tried again, and fell again. His face was twisted with pain. 'My ankle,' he whispered hoarsely, and then cursed. I looked up again at the balcony. Magnus was no longer there.
I scrambled to my feet and pulled Tiro upright. He clenched his
teeth and made a strange gurgling noise — a howl of pain swallowed by sheer will.
'Can you walk?' I said.
'Of course.' Tiro pushed himself away from me and promptly collapsed to his knees. I pulled him upright again, clutched him against my shoulder, and began to walk as quickly as I could, then to trot. Somehow he managed to limp beside me, hopping and hissing with pain. We made our way a hundred feet or so before I heard a faint scuffling behind us and felt my heart sink.
I glanced over my shoulder to see Magnus dashing into the street, silhouetted by the blazing lamps of Chrysogonus's portico. Following him was another figure — the lumbering hulk of Mallius Glaucia. For an instant I saw the blond giant's face, lit by blue moonlight and framed by sputtering torches, streaked with blood and looking hardly human. They froze in the middle of the street, peering this way and that. I pulled Tiro into the shadow of the same tree from which we had watched Sulla's arrival, thinking the darkness might shield us, but the movement must have caught Magnus's eye. I heard a yell and then the slap of sandals against the paving stones.
'On my shoulders!' I hissed. Tiro understood immediately and hobbled to comply. I ducked between his legs, scooped him up, and started running, amazed at my own strength. I glided effortlessly over the smooth stones. I took a deep breath and laughed out loud, thinking I could run a mile and outdistance Magnus with every step. I heard them shouting behind me, but faindy; mostly I heard the pounding of blood in my ears.
Then, in an instant, with the drawing of a single breath that came up shorter than the others, the thrill of the moment subsided. Step by step the burst of energy dwindled.. The level ground seemed to tilt uphill and then to melt, as if I were running through mud. Instead of hughing I was coughing, and suddenly I could hardly lift my feet; Tiro was as heavy as a bronze statue. I heard Magnus and Glaucia behind us, their footfalls drawing so near that the back of my neck began to twitch, flinching at the prospect of a knife between the shoulder blades.
We staggered along a high wall hung with ivy. The wall came to an end. That was when I saw Caecilia Metella's house to my left. The portico was lit with a single brazier, flanked by the two guardians stationed there for the safekeeping of Sextus Roscius.
A breathless citizen carrying a slave piggyback was probably the last thing the two bleary-eyed guards expected to come rushing at them out of the darkness. They rumbled for their swords and jumped to their feet, looking like startled cats.