“Stop!”
The command, shouted in a husky female voice, rang through the air. Almost before the sound of it had died on the still air, Charon’s men leaped up on the stage to seize the snarling Alesian. They hauled him away from me as they relieved him of his weapon. I rose to my feet and stood swaying as a tall woman, dressed in a sleeveless leather tunic and close-fitting trousers, stalked down the stairs from the back row of the stands.
“Ah, Thalestris.” Charon turned slowly toward the trousered woman. “Always a pleasure to see you here at our humble displays of talent. Does your Lanista wish to make a bid that will curtail the action so soon?” He gestured to the stands, where another woman sat, a richly embroidered shawl draped over her head so that her face was in shadow. “But things were just getting entertaining.”
“If by ‘things’ you mean these girls, we would prefer that they remain capable of entertaining,” the woman called Thalestris said in stridently accented Latin. “My mistress, the Lady Achillea, is willing to offer a generous bid well over and above what you have already received in order to end these proceedings, before your wares become damaged beyond all salability.”
Charon frowned. “Your bid would have to be—”
“Twenty thousand denarii.”
Charon’s jaw drifted open a bit. “Twent—”
“Each.”
“No!” A voice of pure outrage shouted from the audience.
Charon turned toward the disruption and cupped his ear. “Do we have a higher bid? Ah, the noble Tribune of the Plebs.”
The muscles in Pontius’s throat jumped as he swallowed, and I could see him grinding his teeth even from the stage. “I’ll pay twenty-five for just the one in green,” he said. “You can charge whatever you want for the other.”
A chill like ice water ran through my veins. Could one slave owner really prove better than the other? I didn’t know. All I knew was that I did not want to go with Pontius Aquila. No matter how much he wanted to pay for me.
Charon graciously inclined his head, deep regret lining his face. “So sorry, noble Tribune. The girls are to be sold as a pair. The terms of sale, as you know, are set before the bidding begins. To change the rules now would be unfair.”
Pontius Aquila’s mouth disappeared in a hard line, and his face flushed to almost purple. Beside him, his bare-chested slave hunched his shoulders and glowered.
“Do you wish to improve upon the Lady Achillea’s bid for both girls?” Charon asked.
Aquila clenched his fists and threw his bid card to the ground. He had been outbid.
Charon nodded at his auctioneer. “Sold.” His dark eyes shone with triumph.
Thalestris waved dismissively at the Alesian as Charon turned back to her. “You can keep your Gaulish thug,” she said. “The Lady Achillea, of course, has no use for him. Perhaps Tribune Aquila would appreciate his rugged charms.”
The onlookers cheered and jeered as Pontius Aquila stood, his gaze full of a startling, palpable wrath. Without another word, he turned and stalked down the steps of the stands, disappearing into the Forum crowd. I felt relief at watching him go.
“Perhaps not,” Charon said mildly as the crowd roared with amusement in the wake of the man’s departure. Then he turned back to Thalestris with a grin. “In that case, I accept your gracious offer on behalf of the Lady Achillea for these two spirited lasses and grant this fine Alesian fellow his full freedom,” he said.
That delighted the crowd even more. The Alesian seemed overwhelmed as Charon waved for him to depart the stage so that the smith could remove his collar. Even I had to admit that the gesture was surprisingly decent. Doubtless it was coldly calculated and purely for effect, but still.
“My paymaster will settle the account and arrange for payment.” Thalestris beckoned forward a broad-shouldered bald man. Then, in a low voice meant only for Charon’s ears, she said, “You have my compliments, Charon. That was cleverly done. But be careful, slave master. Achillea doesn’t like being played. And neither does he.”
I wondered fleetingly who “he” was, but then Thalestris spun on her heel and stalked off after the Lady Achillea, who was already making a swift exit from the marketplace, along with a train of attendants. Elka and I stood there, blinking in astonishment.
Who had we just been sold to?
Charon concluded the auction and, as the crowd began to disperse, sauntered over to us. He put a hand on each of our shoulders. “I knew I could count on you both to fetch a princely sum,” he said, his white teeth showing through his neatly trimmed beard. “The most I’ve ever made in a single sale. Thanks be to Artemis, I listen to my hunches!”