The Defiant (The Valiant #2)(40)

I thought about that for a long moment. Cai knew about Aeddan—and Mael—and he must have been wondering how I could even stand to look at the man who’d murdered my first love.

“Trust him?” I hesitated, but I already knew the answer. “Yes. I do.”

Cai waited.

“But that’s a world away from forgiving him, believe me.” I sighed. “Several worlds.”

“Good.” He nodded. “Then it should be no problem for us to thank him for the rescue and turn him out into the city to fend for himself.”

I frowned. “And what if they find him? He’s a well-known gladiator, and he’s defected from Aquila’s ludus—they must be looking for him too. No.” I shook my head. “If we turn him away, it might lead the vigiles straight back to us.”

Was that really it? I asked myself. The reason I was reluctant to rid myself of Aeddan? Or was it just a way of torturing us both for what had happened to Mael? A kind of dual penance? I honestly didn’t know. There was so much I was unsure of, not the least of which was—what now? I didn’t know where we would go or what we would do. How we would clear our names. But what I did know, deep in my heart, was that wherever we went, whatever we faced, we would need every advantage we could lay our hands on.

“He’s good in a fight,” I said. “And I fear we’re going to need that too.”

“I hope you’re right.” Cai nodded, accepting my decision even if he didn’t like it much. “About trusting him, that is. But if he becomes any kind of a problem, you only have to say the word, Fallon, and I’ll happily run my swords through his guts without a second thought.”

I gave him a look.

“Or”—he shrugged, grinning—“I suppose I could just stand aside and watch you do it first.”

“We could draw lots.” I grinned back. “And I know Elka would love to take a crack at him too.”

Cai laughed. “That she would. She almost did—a couple of times—while you were in your fever.” He glanced over his shoulder at the door that led to the outer yard. “She cares about you a very great deal. They all do.”

A sudden blush of shame burned my cheeks as I realized that I’d been avoiding asking after the others. Elka and Ajani and the rest. I didn’t even really know, beyond the number Elka had told me on the road, who’d made it out. And who hadn’t. I squeezed my eyes shut and saw Tanis’s stark white face as she dropped to her knees in the mud. But then I shook my head and opened my eyes again. I couldn’t stay hiding in the darkness of Arviragus’s prison home for the rest of my life. The whole mess was my fault in the first place. My fault, and my responsibility.

So I might as well pull myself together and face my friends.

And tell them what?

I hadn’t exactly figured that part out. I asked Cai for a few moments alone to collect myself, and told him I’d meet him in the yard, where the others waited. Because of Kassandra’s warnings, no one had gone about in the streets of Rome since we’d arrived, Cai told me. No one except Leander, who knew every back alley in the city and how to make himself invisible. As much as it had angered me on the wild ride down the Via Clodia to think that he had stolen a place in the wagon that could have gone to one of the gladiatrices, from what Cai told me I had to admit that, in short order, Leander had proved himself invaluable to our fugitive cause. Whatever that cause might ultimately prove to be.

He’d even procured a clean tunic and cloak for me to wear.

I dressed and combed my fingers through the tangles of my hair as best I could. Then I headed out into the yard to meet my ludus-mates. They’d been industrious over the days I’d lain tossing in fever. The yard had been set up with tent-like awnings for shelter against any more rain, and the girls had done their best with what provisions Arviragus’s accommodations and Leander’s stealthy sojourns had provided in such a short time. The atmosphere reminded me of the days we’d spent traveling around on the ludus circuit, in the lead-up to the Triumphs. There were sleeping mats and rugs laid out beneath the awnings, and two cooking fires glowing, one with a roasting fowl set over it and one with a pair of rabbits turning on a spit.

The girls themselves sat scattered about, conversing in low tones or tending to chores. In the far corner of the yard, Aeddan sat alone on a bench, sharpening a knife on a whetstone with all the focused purpose of already knowing who he planned to use it on.

I walked out into the yard on wobbling legs, blinking against the shafts of sunlight that streamed between the awnings. Gratia was the first one to notice me, and she hailed me from across the yard, a wide smile splitting her face. One by one, the others turned to greet me too. I felt a surge of relief when I realized that not one of them actually seemed to blame me for what had happened. Neferet and Antonia were there, side by side as usual. Ajani and Elka. Meriel.

No Tanis or Lydia, of course . . .

“Where’s Damya?” I asked, looking around.

Gratia shook her head. “She didn’t make it out.”

“Oh . . .”

I looked around at the others who had made it that far.

Over near one wall sat a girl I’d once thought of as “Wolf” because of the design on the shield Sorcha had given her at our oath swearing. Her name was Hestia, and over the last several months, I’d watched her fighting thraex-style with a methodical determination that won her more bouts than not. She was sitting with a Greek girl named Nephele who’d grown up a beggar on the streets of Athens until she’d been taken and sold. She never stopped smiling—which was a mystery to me—and her smile brightened as our eyes met.