Read Fighting Fit for Free Online Page B

is too young to marry,” I told her. That sounded snotty, so I added quickly, “Has anyone asked to marry you?”
    She blushed. “Once.”
    “Oooh!” I giggled. “Was he a barbarian with tattoos!”
    Aurelia took a breath. “Gaius was Roman.”
    My smile faded. She’d said “was”.
    “He came to Londinium from Rome on the Emperor’s business. We entertained him at my father’s villa.” She glanced at me from under her lashes. “He was very handsome.”
    Was, I thought.
    “He visited us several times after that. He hated British weather - all those low, grey clouds. But I told him mist could be romantic.” She darted me another look under her lashes. “I really liked him. He was homesick and I’d make our cook prepare his favourite dishes.” She pulled a face, “You can’t imagine how disgusting most British cooking is. He started dropping in when my father was out. He was always very respectful,” she added hastily. “We’d just talk and read together. One day we hired a boat and took a picnic on the river. There was white mist hanging in the willow branches. It looked like bridal veils. Gaius said, ‘You’re right, mist is romantic.’ Then he asked if I’d be his wife.” The memory made Aurelia go dreamy-eyed.
    I don’t care how romantic it was, I thought. Gaius had no right proposing. She was just a kid. Then I remembered our instructor saying the average Roman woman wouldn’t live beyond twenty-eight. Maybe Roman girls had to grow up fast?
    “Did you accept?” I asked.
    “I had to say no. My father hasn’t been himself since my mother died. I thought perhaps when we came back home.” Aurelia’s voice shook slightly. “And now it’s too late.”
    I waited.
    “He died,” she explained huskily, “just a few hours after he returned home. My brother, Quintus, told us it was a sudden illness, but I fear—” she faltered. “I fear he may have been poisoned. Oh, Mella, these are such dangerous times.”
    “I’m so sorry,” I told her. “But who would—?”
    But this subject was obviously too painful for Aurelia. “It’s all in the past now,” she said quickly. “Did I tell you I am to marry? Quintus has found me a suitor.”
    “Oh,” I said. “Um, congratulations.”
    Aurelia explained that she didn’t exactly know Quintus. He was fourteen by the time she came along, almost adult by Roman standards. When their father got his British posting, Quintus had chosen to stay behind.
    “These days he’s one of Nero’s most trusted senators. You will meet him, Mella. He still uses my father’s house for entertaining important guests. It’s supposed to be very beautiful.”
    It was evening by the time the jumbled rooftops and towers of Rome came in sight.
    To get to the city gates, we had to drive through the necropolis. Romans were forbidden to bury their dead inside the city and a vast graveyard had gradually grown up outside the city walls. It went on for miles. Sometimes I saw the flicker of camp fires where a homeless person was settling down to sleep among the dead. I also saw my first Roman spook, flitting among the burial urns wearing a ghostly laurel wreath.
    Brice would stop and chat to him, I thought. Brice has this bizarre empathy with ghosts. I suppose if you hang out in Hell dimensions long enough you’ll talk to anyone. This led me on to worrying about what was happening to Orlando and the others…
    Sometime later I felt Aurelia gently shaking me. I couldn’t believe I’d dozed off! A fine angel you are, Melanie! I scolded myself.
    A slave helped me down from the wagon and I stumbled sleepily after Aurelia. Her dad was banging wearily on a bronze knocker, calling to the porter to let them in.
    Their house hasn’t got any windows, I thought in surprise.
    A peephole slid back and a wary eye looked out. I heard someone gasp, “Thank Jupiter! The master’s back!”
    An elderly watchman let us in, beaming all over his face. “Dorcas dreamed you’d come,