I hardly dared asked the question. "And is that what you want?"
She shrugged and even smiled a little. "I should leave. If Rome were invaded tomorrow by barbarians carrying the plague, they'd still be less of a catastrophe than you are. Anyone who comes within a mile of you must be insane."
I grinned. "If it helps to know, I've always thought you were insane."
Despite her teasing, Aurelia's tone turned serious. "To succeed, you'll need a lot more insane friends than just me. Until you find them, how can I help?"
"I need to learn how to use the magic. And I need to know how to fight Radulf, because it's going to come to that." That thought sent shudders through me.
"Then I'll stay. I'll teach you everything I know, at least about fighting."
"He could bring the entire forum down upon me. Can your knife stop that?" The corner of my mouth turned up a little.
She met my challenge with a spark in her eyes. "Until you control your magic as well as I control my knife, you shouldn't complain. Now get some rest. It'll be a big day tomorrow." She glanced at the blanket I had used, still in a heap on the floor, and the undisturbed bed beside me. Her brows pressed together. "I hope you're not sleeping on the floor."
"Of course not." Then I shrugged. "Maybe I was."
She picked up the blanket and handed it to me. "That isn't your life anymore. The world will judge you based on what you think of yourself. If you want to fight Radulf as an equal, then you had better think of yourself that way."
"Do you think of us as equals?" I asked her.
"You and Radulf? He's a general --"
"No. You and me."
"Oh." Aurelia's eyes darted to the side, and her left hand was clenching her dress too tightly. "I, um --"
That was more than enough of an answer. I lay down on the bed, turning away from her. "Good night, Aurelia."
She said my name, but I didn't answer. Nearly a minute of silence passed before her footsteps padded out.
The following morning, Valerius had plans for me before I began any training. He sent a servant to scrub me, trim my hair, and, in his words, try to make me look like a "presentable Roman." I wasn't sure what that meant, but the haircut was definitely necessary, and the bath was a luxury beyond any I'd ever imagined possible. I had never had a bath before, but I was given the entire area of the senator's tepidarium to use. It filled almost one whole room, with inlaid patterns of tile on the floor and walls, and marble seats built into the sides for people who wished to visit while they bathed. I stayed in it until my skin wrinkled, and even then I might never have left, except the servant told me the women of the household may be using the baths soon. That hurried me out.
Afterward, I was given a tunic almost as fine as Crispus's toga. I ran my fingers along the smooth creases of neatly woven fabric, tracing the blue edging, and noting how odd it was to wear something that didn't scratch my skin.
Crispus came in afterward, with a pair of sandals in his hands. Even after he held them out, it still took a moment to realize they were for me.
At first, I only stared, unsure of what to say or do. "I won't know how to walk in them," I finally said.
Crispus handed them to his servant who fit them on my feet and began lacing them up my calves. "You'll learn," Crispus said. "If you want to be free, then you must walk in the shoes of a free man."
When the first sandal was finished, I wiggled my foot and smiled. "It feels so different."
Crispus shrugged. "The leather will relax after a while."
"No," I quickly added. "Different is a good thing. Different is an amazing thing." I stood and tested both sandals on the floor. It was odd to feel something beneath my bare foot other than rocks or sand. I looked over at Crispus. "Thank you." The words weren't nearly enough, but they were all I had.
After that, the servant set me in front of a polished brass mirror so I could see my reflection. I'd seen pieces of myself at times, my face in the waters of a mud pond following a rainstorm, or the corner of my eye reflected on a metal jar, but never so much of me all at once. I stared at my own image. With the way they had cleaned me up, I didn't look like a slave, nor did I feel like one. For the first time in my life, I felt that I deserved my name. I was Nicolas Calva.
Which inevitably brought my thoughts back to the way last night had ended with Aurelia. I wondered how she would respond to seeing me this way. Probably it wouldn't matter at all. Her opinion of me had nothing to do with outer appearances. Whatever I wore, she would always see me as less than her.
Once I did see her, Aurelia was back to her normal self. A little subdued perhaps, but then, so was I. She was at breakfast with Crispus, who excused his father, saying he had early business in the forum. The table was full of fruit and fresh bread and a white fish to be dipped with honey. While they reclined to eat, I sat as close to the table as possible, unable to eat fast enough. At one point, I caught Crispus staring at me, probably horrified at how much I was consuming, but I didn't care. My time here wouldn't last much longer -- it couldn't -- so I wanted to eat everything while I had the chance.
When I reached for some cheese, Aurelia caught my arm and unwrapped the bandage from it. She gasped loud enough to get everyone's attention and said, "This wound is so much worse! Why didn't you say something?"
I rotated it to see it better. I knew it was getting bad, but so many other issues had pressed harder on my mind that I'd nearly forgotten it. I couldn't see the entire wound, but what I could see wasn't good. No wonder it hurt the way it did.
Crispus sat forward, obviously concerned. "I'll inform my father," he said. "We need to get that examined right away."