Roman Flames

Chapter Thirty: Return to My Family

Chapter Thirty: Return to My Family

Marcus

“Of course, Anthemius, I thank you for your time,” I said, walking hurriedly down the street. My friend and I parted ways, and I could not help but wish I had kept him in my company. I was looking over my shoulder as I walked back home in the dark, waiting for someone to catch me for being with Vespera last night. I blushed as I thought about us. What we had been about to do. What she said. And that she was now a Christian. I was happy, but at the same time, I was terrified for her. Things could go wrong far too easily.

“Marcus!” called a voice from behind me. I turned around, and standing there was Vespera’s fiancé, Philotheus. He didn’t look particularly happy, but he didn’t look like he wanted to punch me in the face. My heart was pounding, nevertheless.

“Good evening, Philotheus,” I said warily. He caught up to me and smiled, but I sensed something sinister.

“How are you tonight?” he asked. “Come, walk with me.”

“Uh.”

He pulled me by the elbow and I started walking with him. “How is the bank doing on its first day?” His voice was a little rough for asking such a friendly question. “Hm?” His grip on my elbow tightened, and that’s when I realized, he knew.

“Philotheus, let go of me, please,” I said firmly.

“No, I am making conversation.” Suddenly, he dragged me to an alley—the same one in which I kissed Vespera. “If you do not want to tell me about the bank, tell me about yourself.” He pinned me against the wall and punched me so hard in the stomach that I doubled over. “Tell me how you and Vespera spent the night together”—another punch to the face—“and how I cannot bed her without remembering how you stole that moment from me!”

I was doubled over but he pinned me by the shoulders against the wall so I was upright. He threw another punch and I felt really dizzy, but I spat out blood and stared him in the eye. “I stole nothing from you,” I snarled.

“Then what in the gods’ names were you doing alone in your house? Should I just assume you were having a friendly debate about politics?” His sarcasm dripped from his mouth like venom from a snake. “You bedded her and have made her your whore. Damn you.” He threw another punch, but this time I was ready. I grabbed his wrist and turned him around so his back was against the wall and I had the upper hand. Perhaps I hadn’t forgotten all of my fighting skills.

“Touch me again and you’ll be very sorry. Touch Vespera again, and I promise I will show you my full capabilities. Financing was not the only skill I learned in Damascus.”

“Empty threats from a traitorous banker,” he growled. I socked him in the face and brought my knee sharply up between his legs. He groaned and whimpered.

“Empty threats, sure,” I snapped acrimoniously. “And I hope that every time you see Vespera you think of how I was there first and how you will never have satisfaction.” I let go of him and he fell to the ground, cradling his face in his hands. “Have a nice evening.” I left the alley as quickly as I could and ran home. My stomach was hurting from the blow and I was still spitting out blood, but that didn’t slow me down.

The moment I got home, I grabbed a leather sack and filled it with money, ran to the stable, and grabbed my horse, a black mare I had named Alcippe. I kicked her hard and she ran as fast as she could out of the city and onto the Via Appia. My robes billowed behind me as I rode through the familiar territory—as familiar to me as the back of my hand.