An Echo in the Darkness(5)

“Tell another one,” one of the women laughed, obviously enjoying the crude joke Antigonus had just related to them.

“Your ears will burn,” Antigonus warned, eyes dancing.

“Another!” everyone agreed.

Everyone but Marcus. He sat silent, filled with disgust. They dress up like vain peacocks and laugh like raucous crows, he thought as he watched them all.

One of the woman moved to recline beside him. She pressed her hip against him enticingly. “The games always stir me,” she said with purring softness, her eyes dark.

Repulsed, Marcus ignored her. She began to talk of one of her many lovers, watching Marcus’ face for signs of interest. She only sickened him further. He looked at her, making no effort to hide his feelings, but she was oblivious. She simply continued her intended seduction with all the subtlety of a tigress pretending to be a housecat.

All the while, the bloody games went on unabated. Antigonus and the women laughed, mocked, and shouted curses down on the victims in the arena. Marcus’ nerves stretched tight as he watched his companions . . . as he realized they relished the suffering and death going on before them.

Sickened by what he was seeing, he turned to drink for escape. He drained cup after cup of wine, desperate to drown out the screams of those in the arena. And yet, no amount of the numbing liquid could hold off the image that kept coming to his mind . . . the image of another place, another victim. He had hoped the wine would deaden him. Instead, it made him more acutely aware.

Around him, the masses of people grew frenzied with excitement. Antigonus caught hold of one of the women, and they became entangled. Unbidden, a vision came to Marcus . . . a vision of his sister, Julia. He remembered how he had brought her to the games her first time and laughed at the burning excitement in her dark eyes.

“I won’t shame you, Marcus. I swear. I won’t faint at the sight of blood.” And she hadn’t.

Not then.

Not later.

Unable to stand more, Marcus rose.

Shoving his way through the ecstatic crowd, he made his way up the steps. As soon as he was able, he ran—as he had in Ephesus. He wanted to get away from the noise, away from the smell of human blood. Pausing to get his breath, he leaned his shoulder against a stone wall and vomited.

Hours after the games were over, he could still hear the sound of the hungry mob screaming for more victims. The sound echoed in his mind, tormenting him.

But then, that was all he had known since Hadassah’s death. Torment. And a terrible, black emptiness.

“Have you been avoiding us?” Antigonus said a few days later when he came to pay Marcus a visit. “You didn’t come to Crassus’ feast last night. Everyone was looking forward to seeing you.”

“I had work to do.” Marcus had thought to return to Rome permanently, hoping against hope that he would find the peace he so desperately longed for. He knew now his hopes had been in vain. He looked at Antigonus and shook his head. “I’m only in Rome for a few more months.”

“I thought you had returned to stay,” Antigonus said, clearly surprised by his statement.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Marcus replied shortly.

“But why?”

“For reasons I’d rather not discuss.”

Antigonus’ eyes darkened, and his voice dripped with sarcasm when he spoke. “Well, I hope you’ll find time to attend the feast I’ve planned in your honor. And why do you look so annoyed? By the gods, Marcus, you’ve changed since going to Ephesus. What happened to you there?”

“I’ve work to do, Antigonus.”

“You need distraction from these dark moods of yours.” He became so cajoling, Marcus knew he would soon be asking for money. “I’ve arranged entertainment guaranteed to drive away whatever black thoughts plague your mind.”

“All right, all right! I’ll come to your bloody feast,” Marcus said, impatient for Antigonus’ departure. Why couldn’t anyone understand that he just wanted to be left alone? “But I’ve no time for idle conversation today.”

“Graciously said,” Antigonus said mockingly, then rose to leave. He swept his robes around himself and made for the door, then paused and looked back at his friend in annoyance. “I certainly hope you’re in a better humor tomorrow night.”

Marcus wasn’t.

Antigonus had neglected to tell him that Arria would be in attendance. Within moments of arriving, Marcus saw her. He gave Antigonus an annoyed look, but the senator merely smiled smugly and leaned toward him with a sly expression. “She was your lover for almost two years, Marcus.” He laughed low. “That’s far longer than anyone has lasted since.” At the expression on Marcus’ face, he raised a questioning brow. “You look displeased. You did tell me you parted with her amicably.”