Page 6 of Sea of Love

“He was also chosen for me from the day he was born, but that’s a very long story for another time.” Summer gave her a shrewd look. “Since Michael and Troy and I mated we’ve met a few other Templars who were willing to give up their duty for the life they wanted. Perhaps when this is over, Shelton will do the same.”

“As you say,” Elettra said, and cast her eyes down. Despite the knot in her chest it didn’t matter what she or Shelton wanted. He had to die at her hand. “We should go down now.”

They found the men waiting in the courtyard of the inn, where Floronius was serving wine to a group of joking, laughing traders playing a game with stones.

“We heard a couple of men talking about some strangers performing magic tricks in the streets,” Troy told them. “A tall, scarred woman and a small, red-haired man. From the way they described their tricks they’re from our time. One of them could be Wickerman.” Troy frowned. “We never considered that he might bring some of his cult with him.”

When the innkeeper saw Troy beckoning he scowled and trotted over to them.

“You said no meals,” Floronius snapped.

“We’re looking for some friends,” Troy said and described the magicians to him. “Have you heard anything about them?”

The innkeeper gave him a knowing look, which disappeared when Troy handed him a few coins.

“Aye, there’s been talk of the gladiatrix and her midget. She put up notice in the forum that someone stole her lucky arena spear, and offers a hundred denarii for its return.” He rolled his eyes. “With that bounty she could have three dozen more. Are all your friends so addle-brained?”

“Luck has no price,” Troy said.

Floronius grunted. “Yet foolishness does.”

“Innkeeper, we wish to make an offering,” Shelton said. “Where is the god Neptune worshipped here?”

A sneer twisted Floronius’s lips. “Walk to the east far enough, friend, and you may join his flock.” Laughing and shaking his head, the innkeeper trudged off.

Chapter 3

FROM THE INN the six of them went out onto the crowded streets. The heavy, smooth gray stones that paved the thoroughfares had been raised to form walkways on both sides. They helped them avoid stepping in the waste and grime left by the animals being driven to market. Every hundred yards or so four raised stepping stones provided crossings for pedestrians, but not everyone walked. Carts of every kind trundled along, from small wagons with solid wooden wheels to immense four-wheeled tumbrils piled high with bundled grain stalks. Summer also saw bench-seated carriages bearing two or three passengers, and well-dressed men and women in litters or sedan chairs being carried by strong, impassive-faced slaves.

“Have I mentioned lately how glad I am that you don’t wear make-up?” Troy murmured, nodding at two richly-dressed women passing in an open-sided litter.

The wealthy women’s dead-white faces, scarlet lips and black-ringed eyes looked fake and ridiculous to Summer, but their towering updos made their hair seem to defy gravity. The local men they passed all turned to stare at them. From their admiring expressions the women’s clownish faces were the epitome of beauty.

“With all the lead that the Romans used in their cosmetics, I think I’ll stick to the natural look,” Summer told her mate.

Stalls and shops seemed to sell everything a Pompeiian housewife could desire. Stands with hanging bunches of gorgeous vegetables and fruits vied with piles of nuts, smoked fish and baskets of eggs displayed on the shop counters. The stink of rotten fish wafted out of the garum distillery. It blended with the strong odor of rough wine from the taverns to form a noxious cloud that none of the people seemed to mind. Summer knew garum to be the ketchup of the time, and the Romans loved it on practically anything. But the thought of eating food laced with salted, decomposed fish sauce made her stomach turn.

She much preferred the delicious scent of bread that came from the bakeries, of which there seemed to be dozens. She also admired the Pompeiians’ love of water. They came across two public fountains where a steady stream poured from the mouth of a sculpted face into buckets, cups, and even mouths held beneath it. Through the open windows of some of the grander residences she could see huge fountains splashing in the center of courtyards. There was even a cascading, artificial waterfall beside the entrance to one of the city’s public baths. A white-haired matron who saw Summer admiring the waterfall stopped and touched her arm.

“Don’t go to bathe there, my dear. They never drain the waters, or scrub the tub stones. One of my friends who had a cut on her heel did, and a month later lost her foot to flesh rot.”

Summer looked at the dozen people waiting in line to enter the baths and shuddered. “Thank you for the advice.”

Like the older woman the busy, noisy people of the city were friendly enough. Nearly all of them would pause when Troy asked if they could give him directions. As soon as he asked about the Temple of Neptune every one of them either sneered or laughed and walked away, which frustrated Summer.

“I’d really like to know what the joke is,” she said to Troy as they stopped on one corner. “I thought the gods were universally revered in this time. Why do they act like Neptune is a bad joke?”

“We’re getting nowhere,” Bowers said after he and Shelton came from the other side of the street to rejoin them. “I think Shelton and I should be out looking for the gladiatrix and her midget.”

Summer wasn’t happy at the prospect of splitting up their group.

“We don’t know if they’ve found the crystal yet,” she said.

“They were spotted this morning performing near the amphitheater. If they already had it they would have left,” the Templar said. “As soldiers Shelton and I can ask questions without arousing suspicions. After all, we are the ultimate law enforcement.”

Unfortunately what he said made perfect sense. Summer nodded.

“Be careful, and meet us back at the inn by sunset.”