The Defiant (The Valiant #2)(16)

I regarded him warily. “You didn’t beg.”

Cai rolled an eye at his friend. “Pleaded a little,” he said. “Maybe. But I stayed standing the whole time, I assure you.”

Quint laughed and reached for a slab of thick bread and slathered it with honey, saying, “And then, when Caesar agreed—just to spare his dignity, I’m sure—my good friend Caius did me the unkindness of dragging me along for the ride.”

“Unkindness?” I asked.

“Tall, blonde, leggy unkindness,” he sighed and stuffed the bread into his mouth, gazing off where Elka had gone to fill her plate for the second time. “She won’t even look my way,” he complained through his chewing.

“Try throwing something heavy at her head,” I suggested. “That usually gets her attention.”

Quint considered that a for moment. Then he tossed the rest of the bread onto his platter and stood, picking up a stout clay mug half-full of beer. “Worth a go,” he muttered as he downed the rest of the beer, hitched up his sword belt, and strode determinedly in her direction.

I blinked and turned my attention back to Cai.

“It’s getting late in the day for traveling,” I said, trying not to sound too hopeful.

“And accommodations around here are scarce, I know. Quint and Tully and I are lodging in the stables tonight.” He grinned ruefully. “I almost suggested we could double up in a select few of the gladiatrix barracks, but it seems your Lanista is still a strict arbiter of your virtue and—”

It was a particularly opportune moment for Sorcha to pass by. Cai cleared his throat loudly as she shot him a death glare.

“—and rightly so,” he continued with a stern frown.

She rolled her eyes, gave me a pointed glance, and continued on her way.

“Will you be staying here for a few days, at least?” I asked.

He shook his head. “We leave with first light in the morning.”

I felt my heart sink.

“My father is anxious to have me back,” Cai explained, shrugging helplessly. “Once he found out I was headed here, he sent word to me on the road. And, well, he can be quite . . . insistent.”

“Of course,” I said, biting down on my disappointment.

“He’s due to leave for Brundisium on the eastern coast in a week,” Cai said. “From there, he takes a ship to Greece as part of a key trade delegation. It’s why he’s so adamant about seeing me. He’ll be gone for several months. Otherwise, I would—”

“It’s all right,” I said, shaking my head. “You don’t have to explain. I know how much he’s missed you . . .”

“He’s not the only one, I hope.”

The look on Cai’s face in that moment made me want to crawl over the table to get to him. The noise of the dining hall drifted into a muffled background murmur, and I let myself drown for a moment in the warmth of his gaze. I didn’t even notice that our hands had reached across the table, fingertips touching, until I sensed we were being stared at.

I’m not even sure what it was that made me look away from Cai, but in the constant motion of the crowded hall, there was a dark stillness that drew my attention. I glanced up to see one of the Amazona guards standing near a pillar, the blackness of his armor and uniform like an ink stain on white wool, and his eyes focused on me and Cai—on our reaching hands—like a falcon spying a field mouse.

I pulled my hand away, simmering with frustration. Cai would be gone in the morning, and there was nothing I could do about it in the meantime. Even the sound of crockery shattering and Elka’s voice rising above all the others as she let lose a string of invective in her native tongue from somewhere on the other side of the hall couldn’t distract me from the ache in my chest as Cai and Tully rose to go collect their companion and rescue him from a gladiatrix’s ire.

? ? ?

Later that night, there was a knock on my door. So quiet I almost didn’t hear it.

Then it came again. And the soft whisper of my name.

I opened the door to see Cai standing there, grinning. He put a finger to my lips and, plucking my cloak from the peg on the back of my door, whispered, “Bring the light.”

The glow from my oath lamp carved Cai’s face into stark planes and sleek curves, and the flame danced, reflected in his eyes, sparking off the flecks of gold suspended in his clear hazel gaze. He led me by the hand out into the formal gardens of the ludus, down a winding path that led to a grove surrounding a little hidden clearing with a stone bench. There was a small clay amphora of wine and two glass goblets waiting for us on the bench, along with a platter of cheese and grapes.

“What about the ludus guards?” I said, glancing around as if they were lurking in the shadows beneath the trees at that very moment. “We still have rules, you know.”

“Oh, aye . . .” Cai tugged me forward. “But what the guards don’t know won’t hurt them.”

A thrill of excitement shivered up my spine. It occurred to me that I really wasn’t used to having fun. Swinging swords day after day held its own kind of satisfaction, but it wasn’t exactly what I would have called a good time.

“What if they come this way?” I asked, feeling a flush in my cheeks.

“They won’t,” he said. “They’re a bit busy at the moment.”