Contrary to what one might assume, thatnight was not a riotous affair; I think all of us were too drained.Besides, this was one time I refused to let Scribonius stay by myside.
"You go be with Aurelia, you old goat," Itold him. "Before your brother gets back and cuts your balls offfor sleeping with his wife."
Scribonius snorted in derision.
"As if he could," he retorted. "But, foronce, I'll follow your advice."
"What are you going to do next?" I askedhim, not needing to expand on what I meant.
He turned serious, pursing his lips as hegave me a painful shrug.
"I don't know." At least he was beinghonest.
"You need to leave Rome immediately," I toldhim firmly. "Just because you got away with your skin from theTribunal like I did, that doesn't mean that Sulpicianus isn't goingto make a fuss. Or Lucullus, for that matter."
"Sulpicianus might," he conceded, "but I'malmost positive Lucullus won't breathe a word. Not after whathappened at the Tribunal. But," he grinned at me, "I'm notparticularly worried about Sulpicianus either. He's lucky he's gotsomeone to help him dress in the morning or else he'd be naked allthe time."
That, I had to agree, was certainly true,but I did not back down from my original point.
"I don't know if I can," he said quietly. "Ijust don't want to leave Aurelia behind again. I did that once andI've always regretted it."
I do not know what possessed me to say whatcame out next.
"Then, don't," I replied, prompting a lookof confusion from my friend.
"But you just said I need to leave Rome," heprotested.
"I know. And you do. But," I grinned, "thatdoesn't mean you have to leave by yourself."
Scribonius stared at me, his mouth open inshock, looking at me as if I had sprouted horns.
"What?" he gasped. "I couldn't do that! Itwouldn't be right! I couldn't take her from all that she knows!I..."
Before he came up with more excuses, I cuthim off.
"Was it right that your brother stole thewoman you loved?" I asked him quietly. "And Sextus, if there's onething I've learned about women, it's this. They have minds of theirown, and they don't tend to appreciate it when a man tries to dotheir thinking for them."
"But that's what the law says," my friendexclaimed. "The man is supposed to make the decisions!"
I looked at him with open pity, and I willsay that I was extremely happy that, for once, it was I who wasgiving the look that I had always been the recipient of before.
"Sextus," I chided. "Haven't you learnedanything from watching me?" I gripped him by the arm and looked himin the eye, intent on trying to impart how serious I was. "AskAurelia, at the very least, what she wants. What can it hurt?"
"She probably wouldn't want to go." Helooked away as he rubbed his arm, and I saw that this was the realbasis for his fear. "Rome is all she knows. It's where her familyis, and where she's lived her whole life."
"But is it where her heart is?" I asked him."From what I've seen, I think the answer is pretty clearly,no."
The look my friend gave me was so full ofhope, mixed with equal parts of fear that pulled at my heart.
"You think so?" he whispered.
"There's only way for you to find out," Itold him, then with a firm shove, I propelled him to the door.
"Send a message about what happens," were mylast words to him, and although I hoped it would not be the case,so far this is the last time I was face to face with SextusScribonius.
Shortly before I was about to retire, afterDiocles and I shared a quiet, a blessedly quiet, dinner, which Idid wash down with a fair amount of wine, there came a banging onthe door. This time, I told Diocles I was going to answer it, butbefore I did, I drew my sword as I approached the door. Graspingthe latch, I paused for a moment, then in one movement, yanked itopen to the right as I stepped to the left of the doorway, my swordarm angled away but ready to strike. The slave who knocked on thedoor let out a terrified squawk as he tried to leap backwards, awayfrom the door, but only managed to trip over his own feet, landingheavily on his backside. His eyes never left me, and I saw thenaked fear in the man's eyes, making me feel both chagrined andashamed that I had terrorized an innocent man. Reaching down withmy left hand, I offered him help up, but he could only manage toshake his head, his eyes never leaving the sword. Sighing, I handedit to Diocles, who had come to the door at the commotion, and onlythen did the slave accept my assistance. Pulling him up, I noticedimmediately that, while he seemed to be a slave from his dress, hedid not wear the bronze placard around his neck. This, as youprobably know, gentle reader, is a crime in itself; the fact thathe was out after curfew as well meant that if he were caught, hewas a dead man. That told me that his reason was both clearlyimportant, and something that his master did not want knownpublicly.
"M-m-master Titus Pullus?" was what finallycame out of his mouth.
"Yes," I replied, although I was sure thathe knew already, if only by my dress when compared to Diocles.
"I carry a message for you." He pulled asmall scroll out of his belt, but in another surprising move, whenI reached to take it, he did not release it. Despite still lookingscared out of his wits,
