Page 110 of Of Love and Treason
He turned at the hand on his shoulder and saw one of his barrack-mates whose name he’d never bothered to remember accurately. Unfortunately, Lucas or Cassius or whatever his name was had not taken the hint.
“What are you doing hiding back here?” Whatever-his-name-was beckoned Titus to follow. “Come join us.”
Titus shook his head, glancing back at the platform where Quintus descended the steps. A stab of panic gripped him. Had Marius been successful? He’d turned away too soon. “I came here to exercise,” he muttered, stepping away and scanning the front for Marius. “I forgot about all this.”
“That’s all right. I’ll float you a few sesterces.”
Titus shouldered past him. “I’ve got things to do.”
He didn’t see Marius or Quintus on the court. He circled the outer edge until certain neither remained inside, then pushed his way out of the gymnasium. He did a quick scan of the grounds—there. His tension eased slightly. Marius held the end of the rope tied around Quintus’s neck, and for two men in pain, they made good time toward the exit. Titus hung back, waiting until the guard at the gate glanced at Marius’s pass and the purchase document before waving them through. He breathed a sigh of relief, then wondered how Cato and Abachum would manage to get both Marius and Quintus back to the house. Neither of the brothers was built for carrying sedan chairs, much less a chair with two grown men inside.
Titus took off at a run toward the Porta Decumana, unwilling to draw suspicion by following Quintus out the same gate. He cut around the outside of the Castra Praetoria and caught up to the four not a block past the gate. They’d shuffled at least out of sight of the guards before stopping. Quintus slumped in the chair with Cato bending over him examining the cuts and bruises.
“I’m fine.” Quintus groaned and swatted him away.
“What happened?”
Four faces snapped to Titus, simultaneously relaxing in relief. He scowled. They were lucky he’d come upon them and not a pack of bored guards.
Quintus leaned toward him, holding out his hands. “Titus.” He gasped, as if it hurt to speak. “Thank God.”
Titus gripped his hands, irritated that Quintus’s god had gotten the thanks for Titus’s quick thinking. He took in the bruised eyes and blood drying on Quintus’s chin and forehead. “What happened?”
Quintus closed his eyes. “Braccus.” He pressed a fist to his ribs. “Gave me one last... chance to... tell him where Iris...”
“He’s having trouble breathing,” Cato broke in. “He’s got some broken ribs. I’m not sure what else. We’ve got to get him home quickly.”
It would be dark soon. Titus swore and pointed to Marius. “You, get inside too.” He turned to the brothers. “You two take the front. I’ll get the back.”
XLIX
“GOOD.”MARTHA TUCKED HER CHEEKagainst baby Phineas’s fuzzy head and patted his bottom as she bounced and swayed in the easy movement no mother quite forgot. “I think there’s enough space for a couch now.”
Iris carried out the last crate and set it along the outside wall under the covered portico.
Under Martha’s direction, she and Valentine had cleared a storage room in preparation for Quintus’s arrival since the guest rooms were already filled to bursting. Three of the oldest children had volunteered to help, but the allure of a rain-drenched courtyard had proven too much for them to resist. Iris pressed her hands into the small of her back and arched as Valentine swept a cloud of dust out of the room and into the bed of herbs across the portico. The children—resilient and loud as ever—shrieked and stomped puddles in the courtyard, trying to see who could get the wettest and be the loudest.
Valentine set the broom aside and called for the strongest of the children to follow him to the triclinium to help move a couch into the newly converted bedchamber. All of them came in a pack, eagerly raising arms to show him the size of their muscles. They grinned proudly when Valentine appeared suitably impressed. Beatrix sighed as she watched Valentine tousling heads and swinging one of the littlest children onto his shoulders. She looked at Iris, as if to ensure that she’d also noticed what a wonderful a father Valentine would be.
Iris’s face warmed and she shifted the last crate toward Delphine. “This looks like children’s things.”
Delphine settled a basket on one hip and leaned over Iris’s crate, digging through it with one hand. “Oh!” She lifted a baby tunic. “This is the box I’ve been looking for.”
Martha looked at her tenderly. “You know, dear, it’s probably time for us to find families for them.”
“Cato and I have been discussing that.” Delphine’s hands stilled in the crate. “They’ve been through so much. I can’t bear to uproot them again.”
Shouts and laughter carried across the dusky courtyard as Valentine emerged from the triclinium, shuffling backward with one end of a couch while the pack of children jostled the other end.
“Look at them.” Delphine pointed. “Like they’ve always been together.”
“You mean to keep them all?” Beatrix’s mouth dropped.
Delphine nodded and looked at Martha. “I know it’s a lot. We’ve discussed buying a house of our own.”
“Pfft!”Martha waved a hand of dismissal and pressed a kiss to the baby’s head. “You’ll do no such thing!” She grinned and watched the pack shuffling across the courtyard. “I won’t have my grandbabies moved out of this house.”
Delphine smiled. Iris bit back a laugh as the children discovered they could direct where Valentine stepped by swinging their end of the couch to one side or the other. They immediately forced him into the deepest puddle and dropped their end of the couch, laughing.
