When they were both ready, they set off together up the hill, Julius making the pace.

Tubruk ran easily for the first mile through the woods, thankful he had not neglected his fitness. Then, when his chest began to burn with the exertion, he glanced over at Julius. He ran lightly over the broken trail, his lungs expanding his chest in long, slow breaths. Tubruk matched him, staying at his shoulder for short bursts of speed, then back to the slower pace over and over. Julius didn't speak as he pushed himself on, the sweat pouring from him in spattering droplets that stung his eyes.

After another mile, they turned out of the cool green dark of the woods and ran along the estate perimeter. Tubruk began to puff out short, painful breaths, his legs protesting. As fit as he was, no man of his age could have matched the punishing pace for long, and Julius showed not a sign of distress as he ran, as if his body's discomfort was ignored or even forgotten. His eyes were fixed in inward concentration and he didn't see Tubruk begin to hurt. The old gladiator understood somehow that it was important to be there when Julius finally ran himself out, but the effort was making flashing lights appear in his vision and his heart pounded painfully along his pulse points, creating waves of heat that added to his growing dizziness.

Julius halted without warning, resting his hands on his knees and breathing heavily. Tubruk stopped instantly, grateful for the respite. He inched over to block the path that Julius followed, hoping he wouldn't just start again after a few seconds' pause.

“Did you know about what happened to Cornelia?” Julius asked him.

Tubruk felt cold, his exhaustion irrelevant. “I knew,” he said grimly. “Clodia told me.”

Julius suddenly swore in violent rage, clenching his fists, his face flushing further in uncontrolled emotion. Tubruk almost took a step away from him and wondered at himself. The young man paced back and forth, his fury making his hands grasp the air for something to hold and kill. His eyes fixed on the estate manager and it took all of Tubruk's will to return the gaze.

“You told me you would protect her,” Julius snarled at him, taking a step toward Tubruk that brought him only inches from the older man's face. “I trusted you to keep her safe!”

Julius raised his fist in sudden spasm and Tubruk held still, accepting the blow to come. Instead, Julius snorted and whirled away.

Tubruk spoke quietly, knowing something of the surging emotions that had stolen Julius's control.

“When Clodia told me, I acted,” he said.

Julius didn't seem to hear him. “That bastard Sulla terrified her, Tubruk. He put his filthy hands on her,” Julius said, and broke into sobs. He went slowly down onto his knees in the scrub grass, one hand covering his eyes. Tubruk crouched and put his arms around the young man, pulling him into his chest with a great heave of strength. Julius didn't resist, his voice a muffled croak.

“She thought I would hate her, Tubruk, can you believe that?”

Tubruk held him tightly, letting the sorrow work its way through. When Julius quieted at last, Tubruk let him go and looked into his face, pale with grief.

“I killed him, Julius. I killed Sulla when I heard,” he said. Julius opened his eyes wide in shock and Tubruk continued, relieved to be able to say it at last, “I took a post as a slave in his kitchens and dressed his food with aconite.”

Julius unfroze as he realized the danger they faced. He grabbed Tubruk's arms in a powerful grip. “Who else knows?”

“Only Clodia. I didn't tell Cornelia, to protect her,” Tubruk replied, resisting the urge to break the hold on him.

“No one else? Are you certain? Could you be recognized?”

Finally angry, Tubruk reached up with his hands and removed Julius's stiff fingers with a grunt. “Everyone who could mark me is dead. My friend of thirty years who sold me into Sulla's household died under torture without giving me up. Except for Clodia and us, there is no one else to make the link, I swear it.” He looked into Julius's hard eyes and spoke slowly and with force through his teeth, guessing at his thoughts. “You will not touch Clodia, Julius. Do not think of it.”

“While she lives, my wife and daughter are in danger,” Julius replied, unabashed.

“While I live as well. Will you kill me too? You will have to if you hurt Clodia, on my word you will, or I will come for you myself.”

The two men stood close, both of them rigid with tension. The silence between them grew, but neither one looked away. Then Julius shuddered and the manic quality went from his eyes. Tubruk remained, glaring at him, needing him to concede the point. Finally, the young man spoke.

“All right, Tubruk. But if the Sullans ever come for her, or for you, there must be no link back to my family.”

“Do not ask me for that!” Tubruk replied, furious. “I have served your family for decades. I will not give my blood and hers as well! I love her, Julius, and she loves me. My duty, my love for you, will not stretch to hurting her. It will not happen.

“In any case, I know there is no path from Sulla to me, or to you. I have blood on my hands to prove it.”

When Julius spoke again, his voice was heavy with weariness. “Then you must leave. I have funds enough to set you up somewhere far from Rome. I can free Clodia and you can take her with you.”

Tubruk clenched his jaw. “And your mother? Who will look after her?”

All the passion faded from the younger man, leaving him exhausted and empty. “There is Cornelia, and I can hire another nurse. What other choice is there, Tubruk? Do you think I want this? You have been with me all my life. I can barely imagine not having you to run the estate, but the Sullans are still searching for the assassins, you know that. Oh gods, Pompey's daughter!”

He froze in horror as the implications of the death hit home. His voice was a hoarse whisper.

“They struck blind. Cornelia is already in danger!” he said. Without another word, he scrambled into a run back toward the estate, cutting left to the narrow bridge across the stream. Tubruk swore and raced after him, unable to close the gap on his tired legs. As soon as it had been said, the old gladiator knew Julius was right and panic touched him then. To lose Cornelia after all he had done to protect her made him want to cry out in anger as he forced a faster pace, ignoring the pain.

Cornelia had slept as lightly as her husband, and when the two men arrived panting back at the estate, she was with Clodia and Julia, discussing a trip into the city. She heard Julius calling for his soldiers and rose from the couch, her nervousness evident. Despite the moments of tenderness he'd shown her, he was not the man who'd left Rome in flames behind him years before. His innocence had gone from him, perhaps with the scars that he wouldn't talk about. There were times when she thought there were no more tears inside her for what Sulla had taken from both of them.

When he came storming into the room, her eyes widened nervously.

“What is it?” she asked.

Julius frowned at Clodia in response, knowing as Tubruk had that making Cornelia part of the secret would only increase her risk. Tubruk followed him in and shared a glance with the old nurse, nodding his head a fraction to confirm what she had guessed. Julius spoke urgently, relieved to find her safe. The run home had been an agony for him as he tormented himself with images of assassins creeping through the house to hurt her.

“I think you could be in danger from the friends of Sulla. Pompey lost his daughter and he was close to Marius. I should have thought of it before! It could be that those who seek to avenge the Dictator are striking at his enemies even now, hoping to catch the real assassin in their nets. I will have to send for some of Primigenia to guard you here and get messengers to Crassus. He could be another target. Gods, and Brutus even! Though he's well protected, at least.”