Amara pushes him off. “What did he mean, that I could join your family household?”
“That’s just what he’s like,” Rufus says. “He knows about the place I’ve rented. He’ll come round.”
“Does he know you will free me?”
Rufus doesn’t look at her, but she can see the blush creep up to his hairline. “Would it be so terrible if I didn’t?” He takes both her hands, pulling her closer. “We’d still be together. You wouldn’t be at the brothel, that’s the important part, isn’t it?”
“I cannot believe that you don’t understand the difference,” Amara says, withdrawing her hands from his. “How often have you told me you can see how hard it was for me, to lose everything in Aphidnai. I lost my self when I was sold. Why would you keep me a slave, if it is in your power to set me free? Why?”
“It’s not so simple. My father isn’t keen on the idea. I don’t know that I can defy him on this.” Rufus sits down heavily on the couch. “Freeing you… I would have to give you the family name. It doesn’t just belong to me.”
Amara sits beside him. She can still feel Hortensius’s hands on her body. She thinks of Philos, of Chremes, of all that happens to slaves who become familiar objects in their masters’ houses. Rufus puts his arms around her, kissing her softly on the forehead, the cheek, her lips.
“I promise you, if you belong to me, I will never let anyone hurt you. I promise.”
40
He who hates life easily scorns god
Victoria and Amara wait in Felix’s bedroom. Neither imagine they have been summoned for sex. Victoria sits cross-legged on the bed, as if she belongs there, but Amara doesn’t want to touch it, doesn’t want to remember the night she spent there with Felix. She perches on a stool instead.
“It’s about Simo, isn’t it?” Victoria whispers. “It must be.”
“I thought he was going to take care of that himself,” Amara says. “I don’t see why he needs either of us.”
“He told me I saved his life, as well as yours,” Victoria replies. “He’s never been like that with me before.” She looks drunk on love, completely unaware that Felix’s sudden devotion is likely to be as much manipulation as genuine. A warm-up act for whatever horrible job he has lined up for them both now. “He said no woman has ever shown him greater loyalty than me.”
Amara thinks about her own deception, the secret loan with Balbina, her plotting with Rufus. It’s impossible to imagine why anyone would want to be loyal to a master, still less to Felix. She tries not to let Victoria’s stupidity make her angry. “He should be grateful to you,” she says. “If he had any decency, he would free you for what you’ve done.” Victoria’s face falls and she almost regrets her spitefulness. They both know that’s not going to happen.
Felix opens the door. Amara flinches, hoping he wasn’t listening, but he looks distracted. He doesn’t waste time with greetings. “We can’t wait any longer,” he says, sitting down on the bed next to Victoria. “Simo will have given up waiting for his man. We need to strike now, before he does. Make sure he’s finished.”
“What do you need us to do?” Victoria asks, as if she wants to be asked to put herself in danger.
“Some friends of mine will take care of the bar. And of Simo. I need you two to act as a distraction and keep watch.”
“Keep watch on what?” Amara asks.
“Paris will be keeping watch too,” Felix says, ignoring her question. “He’s not as recognizable to Simo as Thraso or Gallus.”
“Does Paris know about the necropolis?”
“No. Nobody knows,” Felix says. “Safer that way.” Victoria looks at him gratefully, and he rests a hand on her knee. “You will have to be veiled. Pick up a few men opposite the bar, that should distract some attention.”
“You want us to fuck men in the street?” Amara says. “On our own? No protection?”
“Paris will be around.”
“But he’s not there to look after us though, is he!” Amara protests. “He’ll be watching the bar.”
“There will be two of you,” Felix says. “I don’t see the problem.”
“What are you going to do to the bar? I don’t want to go if we don’t know.”
Felix loses his temper. “Nobody is offering you a choice,” he shouts at her. “Since when did you tell me what to do? If I want to sell you on the fucking street, or in the brothel, it’s not for you to argue.”
“Please,” Victoria says, looking imploringly at her. “Please, we have to. What if Simo attacks us again?”
Amara looks at the pair of them, sitting together like a married couple, united against her. She thinks of all she owes Victoria and knows there is no way out, even if she weren’t bound to Felix. She nods.
“Better if you both stay upstairs until tonight,” he says. He looks from one woman to the other, his expression sly. “You can go to the storeroom now,” he says to Amara. “Leave us.”
She hurries out, not wanting to see Felix push Victoria back on the bed, and closes the door. Paris is outside on the balcony, scrubbing the floor with noticeably more vigour than usual. She tries to step clear of the suds and give him space, but he stops her, his thin face eager. “Did Felix tell you?” he says, getting to his feet and glancing up and down the corridor. “Did he tell you he’s sending me on a job? Not Thraso. Not Gallus. Me.”
Amara nods. She thinks about Felix’s reasoning, that Paris is less noticeable. No doubt he is also more expendable. She has little affection for her room-mate but also knows that Fabia’s unhappy son is going to be solely responsible for her safety tonight. “I told you he would start to use you more,” she says, flattering him. “It’s a big job he’s given you.”
“You’ll both have to do as I say,” he says, not sure if she is mocking him. “I’m the man; I’ll be in charge.”
“Of course.” Amara bows her head slightly to show him she understands. Paris swallows, flicking his eyes to Felix’s room, and she can see that for all his bravado he is also afraid. “You don’t have to do anything you will regret though,” she says, thinking again of Fabia, of all that the young man means to his mother. “You don’t have to put yourself in danger.”
Paris draws himself up to stand even taller, throwing his shoulders back like Gallus. “It’s what I was born for,” he says. “You wouldn’t understand. You’re just a woman.”
The day drags, but Amara still wants it to go on longer, doesn’t want darkness to come. She is not sure exactly what Felix has planned for Simo but knows he must intend to kill him. How else is he going to end the feud? Amara thinks about how close she is to leaving this place, the Saturnalia is only a few days away. She cannot die now, not when her escape is all but guaranteed. She thinks about trying to smuggle out a message to Rufus, or even Philos, begging one of them to come and get her. But who could she possibly trust to deliver it? Paris would see her if she tried to sneak out. And Felix’s rage would be terrible.
It is Victoria who finally comes to collect her from the storeroom. She is swathed in a veil, like a married woman. Though it looks more like a shroud. Amara’s heart starts to race with fear.
“I don’t think we should do this,” she says, not wanting to touch the veil Victoria is holding out to her. “What if somebody from Simo’s bar recognizes us? What if Maria or Attice come out?”
“He promised me we would be safe,” Victoria says, throwing the material over Amara’s head. “And anyway, what choice do we have? Let’s just get it over with.”