Page 66

His expression became inscrutable, as though he were deep in thought.

I was suddenly overcome with warmth for him, for his intelligence, his openness of spirit, his devotion to his small circle of friends. I could sit beside him for days, talking about the world.

He shrugged. “Regardless, Straba went on immediately to Carrac. That’s where I’m going to start as soon as I can raise the funds.”

At the thought of his inevitable departure, my feelings deflated like a bellows expelling its air. “You’re sure that’s the place to look?”

“I’m not sure of anything.” He stood up and pulled a worn volume from the shelf. “We have no firsthand accounts of the caves from Straba himself. So many of his writings were lost. We do have a secondhand reference, though, which is how we know he found them. A century later, a scholar who had seen a now-lost manuscript copied down a phrase he recalled. Hold on, here it is.”

He began to read. “‘The wanderer Straba wrote long ago, I have found the immense treasure that Arcadius set by in his caves to keep it safe from those who would plunder it. Guided by the Mother and the full moon, I have found it.”

“Guided by the Mother and the full moon,” I repeated. “Hmmm. A constellation and the moon. And that is the only reference we have?”

“It’s the only mention there is.” He passed me the book. “By the gods, I’ve been looking for this place for so long.”

I read over the fragment of text, wondering what that last line could mean.

KLAUDIA JOINED US for dinner that night, and we ate indoors because the evenings had grown too chilly to dine comfortably in the courtyard. We lingered at the table, the sounds of the harbor drifting in faintly through the balcony doors. Candlelight flickered, causing the men and women in the fresco on the wall to appear almost alive.

Klaudia turned to Don with a sly look. “I understand a certain champion chariot driver is poised to win his thousandth consecutive race.”

Sebastianus put down his knife and looked at Don. “One thousand races? Can that be right?”

“Who is this?” I asked.

Klaudia smiled. “Pollux. Jovinian’s champion. The reason Don has seen so many races recently.”

The huge man stared down at his empty bowl, a look of surprising vulnerability on his face.

“He’s a fierce competitor,” Sebastianus said. “Worthy of you.”

Don looked up bleakly. “But he’s not his own man. Jovinian will make him race until he’s broken. There’s no future for him, no matter how many heats he wins.”

“Pollux is a slave?” I asked, surprised.

“All the charioteers are slaves,” Sebastianus said.

I put a hand on Sebastianus’s arm. “Isn’t there something we can do to help free him?”

He touched my chin. “We can’t afford to free all the people in the world who deserve it, falcon.”

“He’s too valuable,” Don said. “Jovinian would never let his champion go, for any amount of money.”

“He should stop winning,” I said. “He’d be less valuable.”

Don smiled wistfully. “I’ve said the very same thing to him. But there’s something inside him that cannot accept losing when he’s capable of winning.”

“That reminds me of someone,” Klaudia said meaningfully, taking a gulp of wine.

Sebastianus raised an eyebrow.

“Well,” she said, “you won’t stop searching for those foolish caves.”

“It’s not the same thing,” he said.

She shrugged. “We should all go and watch the race. Cheer him on.”

Don said, “Actually, Seb, I’ve been meaning to ask you to come with me. When was the last time you saw a race?”