Arms of Nemesis Read Free Page B

right to refuse me, and did not draw away, but she stiffened at my touch and held her head high, even when I bent to kiss her ear. 'I will come back,' I said. 'After five days I return. So the man promises.'
    I saw her cheeks tighten and her jaw tremble. She blinked rapidly, and I noticed the fan of wrinkles that time had gathered at the outer corner of her eye. She stared at the blank wall before her. 'It would be different if I knew where you were going.'
    I smiled. Bethesda had known only two cities in her life, Alexandria and Rome, and except for the voyage between has never ventured a mile outside either one. What could it matter to her whether I was going to Cumae or Carthage?
    'Well,' I sighed, 'if it will give you any comfort, I suspect that Eco and I will be spending the next few days somewhere in the vicinity of Baiae. You've heard of it, haven't you?'
    She nodded.
    'It's a beautiful little region down the coast,' I said, 'inside the Cape of Misenum, situated on the bay which the locals call the Cup, across the water from Puteoli and Pompeii. They say the views of Capri and Vesuvius are quite splendid. The richest of the rich build fine homes on the seashore and bathe in hot mud.'
    'But how do you know where you're going if the man won't tell you?'
    'It's only a guess.'
    Bethesda softened beneath my touch. She sighed, and I knew that she was reconciled to my going, and to the prospect of being the mistress of the house for a few days, having sole command over the other slaves. From previous experience, I knew that in my absence she was a thoroughly ruthless tyrant. I only hoped that Belbo would be able to bear up under her harsh rule. The thought made me smile.
    I turned and saw that Eco waited in the doorway. For an instant his face held an expression of intense fascination; then he crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, as if to deny any interest or sympathy with the moment of tenderness he had interrupted. I quickly kissed Bethesda's cheek and turned to go.
    Marcus Mummius was pacing in the vestibule, looking weary and impatient. He threw up his hands when I appeared and hurried out the door, not even waiting for me to catch up, only giving me a look over his shoulder that showed what he thought of wasting so much time to say good-bye to a woman, and a slave at that.
    We hurried down the steep path that descends the Esquiline hill, watching for pitfalls by the light of Eco's torch. Where the path ended, spilling into the Subura Way, four horses and two men awaited us.
    Mummius's men looked and acted like legionnaires out of uniform. Beneath their light woollen cloaks I caught the glint of knives, which made me feel safer at the prospect of venturing through Roman streets after dark. I reached inside my cloak and touched my own dagger. Mummius had said that all my needs would be supplied, but I preferred to bring my own weapon.
    Mummius had not counted on Eco, so I was given the strongest mount and he rode behind me, clutching my waist. Where my body is broad and thick through the shoulders and chest (and in recent years, through the middle as well), Eco's is thin and wiry; his added weight was hardly enough for the beast to notice.
    The evening was mild, with only a faint early-autumn chill in the air, but the streets were nearly deserted. In times of trouble, Romans shun the darkness and lock up their houses at sundown, leaving the streets to pimps, drunks, and thrill seekers. So it was in the turmoil of the civil wars and the gloomy years of Sulla's dictatorship; so it was again now that the revolt of the Spartacans was on everyone's lips. Terrifying stories were told in the Forum about whole villages where citizens had been overwhelmed and roasted alive by slaves who ate their former masters for dinner. After sundown Romans refused party invitations and vacated the streets. They locked their bedchamber doors to keep out even their most trusted slaves while they slept, and they woke up from nightmares, drenched