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“Even so,” Don asked, “how will this be different?”
“We could make a careful plan. Seb and I could both disguise ourselves. Think through a contingency in case something unexpected happened.”
Don stared out the open balcony doors, seeming to consider this.
Sebastianus looked at me. “Why?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Surely you don’t care enough about a chariot race to risk your life. Why do you want to take this chance, after all that has happened?”
“I want to talk to the courtesans that live with Jovinian.”
Five heads turned in my direction.
“I’ve been thinking about it for weeks. I want to talk to them, because I want to know if they can tell me anything about where my mother went.” I blushed, feeling strangely vulnerable now that I had revealed this long-simmering idea.
“There must be another way to get this information,” Sebastianus said. “I can’t risk your safety.”
“I cannot live in a cage,” I said. “I will not. You promised me that you would help me find my path.”
“Seb,” Klaudia said, “Anna should get to make this choice. Any of the rest of us could.”
Sebastianus said nothing, but defeat and resignation were written in the lines of his face.
I felt a small thrill of triumph.
xix
THE DAY OF THE RACE ARRIVED. SEBASTIANUS, DON, Cassius, and I set out for the Circodrome, the massive stadium on the edge of the Imperial District. Cornelia stayed home, as she did not like the crowds and excitement. Klaudia planned to sit in the Imperial box, as she usually did, to monitor the conversation and make sure that no one noticed us.
We strolled at a casual pace, letting the crowd carry us across the plaza, past the Senate building, and into the giant coliseum. At Don’s direction, we took our places on stone benches about halfway up the tiered rows of seats. We were surrounded by middle-class families, parents, children, and even grandparents, laughing, shouting, buying hot fragrant nuts from the hawkers who walked up and down the aisles.
I wore a simple gray stola, high necked with generous sleeves, and a headscarf that hung low over my forehead. Don and Sebastianus wore plain white togas like all the other men sitting in our section, as well as white head coverings like those worn in the Kingdom of Ohrid. Sebastianus had exchanged his jewel-handled walking stick for a simple wooden one. Even his posture and body language seemed different. His typically proud, erect bearing had been replaced by a subtle slouching: a looseness that reminded me of a hard-working citizen who had consumed a fair amount of strong wine. In contrast, Don seemed like the more important man. His height and breadth were imposing in any circumstance, but with Sebastianus lounging on the bench beside him, it would be easy to think their roles of master and servant were reversed.
Our goal was to blend in, and with a crowd this large and noisy, we would certainly be able to. So many people were packed into the stadium that it was overwhelming just to look at them. The spectators sitting down at the curves of the oval were far enough away from us that they seemed doll-like, unreal. The buzz of the crowd was louder than anything I had ever heard. Nevertheless, Sebastianus scanned the faces around us constantly, his easy posture hiding an intense vigilance.
“That’s where the Imperator will sit.” Don indicated a large, elevated viewing stand with a purple canopy on the opposite side of the stadium. The grandeur of the plush seats contrasted sharply with our hard benches.
Sebastianus popped a few salted almonds into his mouth. “This certainly gives me a new view of things.”
“What are those?” I pointed to a series of large sculptures mounted on a central island, which ran like a spine down the center of the Circodrome. The wide dirt racetrack encircled it. “I recognize the big spiral, of course. It is the symbol of Gurgexenes. But what are the others?”
Sebastianus leaned over. “That obelisk stood on the graves of the ancient kings across the river in Ohrid. King Agrias would love to get it back, I’m sure. And that”—he pointed to a worn sculpture of an immense bronze horse—“is an image of Arcadius’s warhorse.”
Cassius leaned over and whispered, “Speaking of Arcadius, how are your efforts going?”
Sebastianus scowled. “Jovinian cuts me off every time I ask about funds.”
“You’re still thinking of starting the expedition at Carrac?” Cassius asked quietly.
“We know from his own letter that Straba journeyed there,” Sebastianus said.
“He journeyed to many places,” Cassius replied.
Sebastianus shook his head. “Men have searched this continent from east to west looking for those caves in every place Straba was known to have visited. I just know the Kotol is the place to look. No one but us knows he spent time there.”
I thought of the few clues we had about the location of the caves. What had Arcadius said? “My treasure, my heart, secured by walls of stone.” And the strange, final sentence of the old text fragment attributed to Straba: Guided by the Mother and the full moon, I have found it. What did all the pieces add up to?
