The Defiant (The Valiant #2)(81)

“Caius!” he called out, bursting through the carved oak double doors. “Caius!”

“Father!”

Cai spun around where he stood beside the desk that still held an ink jar and stack of vellum. His gaze flicked back and forth between me and his father, confused and surprised. And—I wondered if I was imagining it—alarmed. Kassandra’s warning must have still lingered in his mind.

“I . . . I thought you were on your way to Greece,” he stammered. “What . . . what are you doing back here?”

“I wasn’t yet at Brundisium when word reached me of what was happening at the Ludus Achillea,” the senator explained. “A revolt in the same vein as Spartacus, I was told! With my own son a traitor in the service of it.”

“I wasn’t. And there was no revolt—”

“Of course not.”

“How did you even hear such—”

“I have informants, Caius.” Senator Varro brushed aside his son’s confusion, deeming it more important to convince himself of Cai’s actual well-being. “You can tell me what actually happened later. In the meantime, I want you to see my personal physician.”

“Why? I’m fine.”

“Aside from all this ludus nonsense, do you forget you were discharged of your legion duties due to injury?” Varro frowned sternly at his wayward son. “You’ve subsequently endured long travel, confinement, escape, and the gods know what else, all under—I’m assuming—violent circumstances. You are too thin, and there are shadows under your eyes. You’ll see my physician.”

“When I have time, perhaps. At the moment, I’m a bit busy—”

“Now, Caius.” Varro glared balefully at Cai. “I’ll send a slave to fetch the man. And you will submit yourself to an examination.” He turned to me. “Both of you, I should say. You, dear girl, look to be in almost worse shape than he does. And that will never do.”

“I’m fine. I just haven’t been sleeping too well—”

“Then I’ll have my physician prepare you a draught before bed.” He put a hand up. “No arguments.”

All that being said, the senator turned and strode across the room, the matter clearly decided. As he pulled the oak doors shut behind him, I blinked at Cai in bewilderment. To be fair, he seemed a bit bemused himself, but he shook it off and held out a hand to me.

“Did I mention my father’s a bit overprotective?” He smiled ruefully.

I thought of my own father. Of how he’d been willing to marry me off to a boy I hadn’t loved just to keep me from becoming a warrior. To save me from myself. I supposed that I couldn’t really blame Varro.

I sighed and took Cai’s hand. “I know the feeling.”

He pulled me close and kissed my forehead.

“I don’t really look that bad, do I?” I asked when he lifted a hand to smooth my hair back from my face.

Cai laughed. “I think you look perfect,” he said. “But then, I’m hardly one to judge. According to my father, I’m halfway across the River Styx myself.”

I looked down at the stack of vellum on the scriptorium desk and picked up the stylus Cai had used to write the challenge to Pontius Aquila.

“Do you think your father will try to stop us?” I asked. “When he learns what we’re going to do?”

“He can try.” Cai shrugged. “But I don’t think he will. For all my father is a politician and a businessman, there’s one thing I know about him: He’s a man who hates injustice. I have a feeling that once he knows what’s really going on, he’ll be more than happy to do what he knows, in his heart, is the right thing.”

It was reassuring to hear his sentiment echo mine about Cai himself.

Kass and Aeddan could believe what they wanted.

I would believe in the good of the people I knew to be good. I felt a weight I hadn’t really realized I’d been carrying lift from my shoulders. There were still others heaped there, but that one, at least, was gone.

“Is what we’re planning here folly?” I asked, wondering—not for the first time—how in the wide world we were going to pull off such an audacious scheme and take back the ludus.

“Folly? Maybe.” Cai tilted my chin up so that I was looking into his eyes as he smiled at me. “Or maybe it’s just what you do. You fight, Fallon. And I’ll fight alongside you. We all will.”

“Of course we will.” I looked over to see Quintus poking his head through the doors the senator had just left through. “Was that the good Senator Varro I just saw storming off in the direction of the stables?” he asked.

“Aye.” Cai nodded. “Apparently, word of the ludus ‘rebellion’ traveled faster than winged Mercury and forestalled his journey to Greece.”

“That’s not going to become an impediment to our plans, is it?” Quintus frowned worriedly.

Cai shook his head. “I don’t think so. My father has a less than elevated opinion of the Tribune of the Plebs. As I told Fallon, I suspect that he’ll rather cheer us on in this endeavor.”

Something occurred to me then. “Cai . . .”

He turned to me.

“Don’t tell your father Sorcha still lives,” I said. “She’s our secret weapon. She needs to stay secret. None of this will work without her. And none of it will work if anyone even suspects that she still lives. If so much as a hint on the breeze drifts over the walls of the ludus and reaches Aquila’s ears, we’ll fail.”