Page 76 of Of Love and Treason
“I told him not to go home.”
Fear replaced the unease. “Is he in danger?”
Titus turned down Cedar Street and stepped over a broken crate. He seemed hesitant to speak now. The street was empty, save for a cat rubbing its tawny side along a doorpost.
Iris caught his arm, tugging him to a stop. “Titus.”
He looked down at her and spoke almost in a whisper. “I don’t have proof. But if he doesn’t leave Rome before I find it, your healer will be executed.”
Iris’s heart seized, then pounded. Titus was wrong. He had to be. Only people accused of treason or patricide could be executed.
“He’s wanted for treason.” Titus answered the question she couldn’t bring herself to ask. “I need you to understand.” He rubbedthe back of his neck and sent her a pleading look. “I tried. He healed you; I let him go. We’re even.”
She stared at him, trying to follow. “You were looking for him before all this?”
He nodded.
Understanding finally dawned. “And you’re still looking for him now? Even though you’ve given him time?”
“He has until tomorrow. If he doesn’t leave and he’s caught again, it’s his fault. Not mine.” He tilted his chin, watching her expression. “Don’t be upset with me over this, Iris. It’s my job to hunt criminals.”
“Valentine is not a—”
He dropped his face close to hers, lips tight over his teeth as he spoke. “Valentine is a traitor to the empire. If he stays, I’ll have to arrest him. I let him go foryour sake. But I can’t do it again.”
A traitor to the empire.She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Just what had Valentine done? Titus had risked much in letting Valentine go with a warning. He didn’t have the authority to banish anyone, and if word got out that he’d done so—she shuddered to think of his punishment. Of course, Valentine would know only a magistrate could officially banish him, so would he bother listening to Titus? The thought of never seeing Valentine again flooded her with swift disappointment. Titus shifted and crossed his arms, recalling to her mind his questions about whether Beatrix had seen Valentine. He was hunting Valentine and usingherto do it.
Iris’s blood went icy. “I have to go.” She turned away, locking eyes on the green door of her insula like a sailor would a lighthouse.
“Iris, it’s myjob.”
As if that were explanation enough. He didn’t follow her. She didn’t turn but thought she might have caught a hint of remorse in his tone. Or frustration.
Back in the quiet of the apartment, Iris couldn’t keep her mind from running. She half hoped Valentine would leave the city, be free and safe. The other part of her selfishly wanted to see him again. But what of Titus? He’d helped get Valentine released, and she wasgrateful, yet Titus was hunting him. How could she feel such gratefulness mingled with the cut of betrayal? Iris sank onto the couch, the fraying cushions long flattened, and in halting sentences began to pray.
City of Rome
Ides of Februarius, AD 270
The three men stop and look at him, clubs dangling from the ends of their oiled arms.
They wait for him to quiver, to run. He is still. The crowd seems to hold its breath. Their hero’s life balances on the edge of a finely honed blade. The shadow of the man behind him raises a club and strikes him on the shoulder. There is a dull smacking sound. The crowd gasps but no one dares call for “life” again. Not with Praetorian swords at the ready. He stumbles forward but remains on his feet.
His lips still move, whispers escaping. No one can hear him. Another man smashes a club against his chest. He folds over, gasping. The third man hits the small of his back and he drops to his knees. He sucks in a breath and looks up, locking eyes with the man raising the club for another blow.
“It’s all right.” The words emerge gurgled and sloppy. “It’s all right. I forgive you.”
The man’s jaw bulges with tension and the club swings down. At the sight of blood, the crowd begins to keen. Someone throws a red rose into the arena.
XXXIII
CITY OF ROME
IANUARIUS, AD 270
Feet propped on the desk, Quintus leaned back in his chair and skimmed a missive from the Castra Praetoria. Along with enforcing the anti-Christian policies of Emperor Severus, there were to be stricter visitation rules, no food provided to prisoners unless brought by family members or friends.
His mind wandered to the secret meetings he and Iris had been attending the last three months. Despite the risk of capture, Valentine had remained in Rome to teach any who gathered in the Calogarus house. He’d explained that when he’d become a leader of the church, he’d taken the oath not to abandon his flock to save his life. Until called elsewhere, he would stay. No matter the danger. Quintus scratched his stubbled neck. Did that make Valentine the bravest man he knew or the most foolish?
