Page 55 of Brother at Arms

“He was devoted to Marcella by then,” I said. “Also, Xerxes wouldn’t have taken anything from a woman—or man—if he suspected that whoever threatened him away from the silk trade had sent it.”

“Did someone threaten him?” Cassia asked in surprise.

I refilled my cup from the jug and related to them all that Vitus had told me.

Marcianus nodded once I’d ceased speaking. “I remember Vitus. He was not the sharpest of men, but quiet and observant. I think we may trust his tale.”

“The imposter must have taken over Xerxes’s name just after Xerxes quit the trade,” Cassia said as she finished noting down the reported conversation. “They frightened him enough to make him retreat and then stole his business. I wonder what they threatened him with?”

“Exposure,” Marcianus declared. “Reporting him to the magistrates. A gladiator wouldn’t survive that.”

“If the person who threatened Xerxes took over the smuggling, he could be dragged to execution himself,” Cassia argued. “Xerxes would be able to threaten him with exposure in return. An impasse. No, it must have been something that frightened Xerxes very much.” She made a thoughtful note.

“You are forgetting that Xerxes died years after the threat,” I said. “If Xerxes was finished with the trade, according to Vitus, not long after I came to the ludus, then it was six years from that time to when Xerxes died in the Saturnalian games. Why wait so long to kill him?” I studied the dregs of my wine. “Maybe we are wrong, and Xerxes’s death had no connection at all to the threats or the silk smuggling. It was Perseus, after all, wanting to move up in the ludus.”

“I consider it unlikely that Perseus was involved at all,” Cassia said. “If what you have told me of him is correct, Perseus was not the sort to come up with intricate ruses to gain what he wanted. If someone else coerced Perseus, again we have the problem of opportunity to smear poison on Perseus’s sword before he went into the arena. I will return to my theory that someone fed Xerxes poison somehow before the match.”

“They could have done so,” Marcianus said. “Gladiators have adoring devotees, who bring them many gifts, including food.”

“That is true,” I agreed. “Food, wine, trinkets, coins, jewelry.” I’d also received a few more intimate offers from women as well as men, but I didn’t want to say so in front of Cassia.

“Therefore, someone pressing a sweet pastry on Xerxes before a match wouldn’t be unusual,” Cassia said.

“Aemil discourages such things until after the bouts are done for the day,” I said. “But he can’t be everywhere at once.”

“It is a place to start,” Cassia said determinedly. “Marcianus, would you ask at the ludus if anyone remembers such a thing?”

“I would be delighted to,” Marcianus answered. “You might have the right of it, my dear. If we can trace back what Xerxes ate and who doctored it, we can discover which is the correct poison.”

To Marcianus, the how was always more important than the who or why. If the victim had been anyone other than Xerxes, I’d be amused.

“I can return to Samorix and pry out of him who bought what two and a half years ago,” I offered. “Even if the killer didn’t purchase the poison from Samorix, I wager he’ll know who sold what at the time and to whom.”

“If Samorix has close ties to Nero, you will be taken right back to the Palatine,” Marcianus warned. He sighed. “I apologize for not knowing his connection before. I had no idea I would bring so much trouble upon you.”

I felt my back twinge, though Cassia’s salve had worked wonders. “It is not your fault. Why would you believe Samorix reported everything to the Palatine?”

Marcianus shook his head, morose.

“We considered speaking to Samorix’s slave, Hadrianus,” I reminded Cassia. “He seemed much cannier than Samorix believes.”

“Oh, I have not forgotten about Hadrianus,” Cassia said. “I’ve invited him to come to us anytime he can get a free hour. We can ask him then.”

I stared at her in surprise then recalled how she’d been murmuring to the big man when he’d been opening the boxes of scrolls for her.

“How will you understand his answers?” I asked. I assumed Hadrianus had learned to express himself, but a complicated conversation would be difficult.

“I will teach him to write,” Cassia said, beaming. “That will take some time, I know, but I can tutor him enough at least for him to spell a name.”

Chapter 18

You are amazingly clever, my dear,” Marcianus said in admiration.

“Of course, I won’t simply use Hadrianus for information,” Cassia said quickly. “Writing will be a useful skill for the poor man to have. It will let him more easily communicate with others and give him more choices.”

Hadrianus was enslaved, so I wasn’t certain what choices he’d have, but I didn’t want to diminish Cassia’s eagerness.

Marcianus rose. “I will make my way to the ludus, now that the rain seems to be slacking, and make inquiries.”