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F elix sat with his knees tucked to his chest in his spot in the hold, surrounded by sealed amphorae and crates of provisions. The boat rocked gently beneath him as they bobbed at anchor near Ostia.

Dread laid like a heavy stone in his stomach. Each hour that passed was one less hour of life as he knew it. He knew the pirates had given Siro a deadline of two days to provide the money. He also knew there would be no money, and his life as a free man was over.

He pondered the fate that awaited him, assuming he survived the pirates’ displeasure at the lack of ransom. He was educated, so he’d likely be sold as a scribe or secretary. At least he’d avoid the sort of menial, backbreaking labor others might be destined for.

Could he parlay his boxing experience into being sold as a gladiator? That would either lead to a quick, merciful death, or, if he was successful, he might be able to earn enough money to buy his freedom and find his way back to Ostia, and Lucretia.

That idea had promise. A gladiator trainee would fetch the pirates a higher price than a scribe. He didn’t fancy the prospect of risking his life in the arena, but it might be his best shot.

He shook his head. Winning his freedom as a gladiator was a ludicrous idea. He was destined for a life of drudgery as a scribe or something similar.

And his prospects as a slave didn’t matter if the pirates decided to kill him in retaliation for wasting their time with the promise of a ransom that never arrived.

He hoped Siro wouldn’t feel too guilty about failing to gather the money. It wasn’t his fault, and Felix wished he could see him just for a moment to tell him so.

At the thought of everyone he would never see again, his chest ached.

He would never see his family again: his mother, his boorish but warmhearted stepfather, his half-sister.

They would all grieve his loss. He would never get to watch his niece grow up.

And Lucretia and Marcus—the thought of them made his throat tighten painfully.

He would never get to apologize to Lucretia. He should have done it the last time he saw her, when they’d walked to the harbor.

How stupid he had been. He should have thrown himself at her feet and begged for her forgiveness. Now he would never have the chance to tell her how foolish he’d been, how he’d let his greed and desire to win blight everything of real importance.

He closed his eyes, blocking out his dismal surroundings.

He conjured the image of her face, pretending he could bask in the warmth of her hazel eyes and the sunlight of her smile once more.

He remembered the melody of her laugh, the cool way she challenged him, her utter boldness in flouting the law with her invented guardian.

Now, when he was on the verge of losing everything, his success in business was meaningless. It was Lucretia who loomed large in his mind. She was what he longed for. She was the only thing that truly mattered.

Lucretia arrived at the home of Publius Calpurnius Lentulus, her biggest investor, and awaited him in the atrium. When he joined her, he greeted her with a kiss on both cheeks.

“Lucretia, how nice to see you. How is young Marcus these days?”

“Very well,” she answered. “He’s taken up boxing recently, and I fear his shoulders are about to outgrow all of his tunics.”

Lentulus chuckled as he led her into his study to sit. “Boxing, eh? A wholesome activity for a young man.”

She sat in the chair he proffered. “Forgive me for my bluntness, but I come to you on a matter of some urgency. I must ask a great favor.”

He sat behind his desk, leaning forward as interest and concern mingled on his lined face. “Oh?”

“I require a large sum of ready coin. I would ask you for a loan of eight talents of silver. It will be repaid within the week.”

Lentulus’s gray eyebrows shot up. “Eight talents? What could you possibly need that for?”

She briefly relayed the details of Felix’s capture by pirates and Marcus’s near escape.

Lentulus frowned. “Lucius Avitus Felix is your enemy, is he not? If I recall, but a few months ago he was doing everything in his power to ruin you. Including trying to convince me to sell him my stake in your operations.”

“Yes,” she admitted. “But things recently changed. We agreed on a truce, a condition of which was that he would apprentice Marcus.”

“A truce?” Lentulus repeated. “Why would he have agreed to such a thing?”

Lucretia strove to keep her face neutral. “Forgive me, but the terms of our agreement are confidential.”

“I see.” Lentulus leaned back in his chair and surveyed her. “So you want my money to free Felix from the pirates. And he will repay it immediately upon being released.”

Lucretia nodded. “With whatever interest you deem fair.”

“It is a significant sum,” Lentulus said. “And a risky proposition. Pirates are unpredictable and underhanded. They could take the money and refuse to release him.”

“I know,” Lucretia admitted. “But I fear this is our only hope.”

Lentulus took another moment to consider, while Lucretia waited, hiding the anxious twisting of her fingers beneath the fold of her palla in her lap.

“I would require significant collateral to make such a loan,” he finally said. “You know there is little I wouldn’t do to help you, Lucretia, but when it comes to a loan of this magnitude, I must be prudent.”

“Of course,” Lucretia replied. She had been prepared for this.

Lentulus would have been a fool not to require collateral.

But this was the most painful part of her plan.

At first, she had thought to offer her house as collateral.

But the house did not technically belong to her; after Cornelius’s death, it passed to Marcus, held in trust by Lucretia until he came of age.

Besides, even if she could, she would have hesitated to risk losing the very roof over their heads.

There was only one other thing of value which she owned.

“I will offer my ships as collateral,” she said. The words hung in the air, ominous as a thundercloud. If anything went wrong with the exchange of ransom, she would lose everything. But somehow, she was willing to make the gamble if it could see Felix freed.

Lentulus’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I’m sure.”

Lentulus sighed. “I want you to know, as your friend, I advise against all of this. I would sooner have you leave Felix to his fate and go on with your life. Don’t take such a risk.”

“I appreciate your counsel, but my decision is made.” Felix had sacrificed himself to save Marcus, and for that, she owed him anything she could do to save him.

It was only in return for Marcus’s safety, she told herself. Not because she wanted to see him again. Not because she longed for his touch, for the devotion in his gaze when he looked at her. He had betrayed her, hadn’t even apologized for it, and she would not forgive so easily.

“Very well.” Lentulus reached for a blank piece of papyrus. “Let us draw up the terms.”

The next day, Lucretia met Siro at Felix’s home as the eight talents of silver were delivered, escorted by a guard of six men. The crates of coin joined the further seven talents withdrawn from Felix’s own coffers.

It had taken longer than she hoped for Lentulus to gather and send over the money, and the day was already half gone. The sunset deadline loomed large in her mind. They would have to move fast to make it.

Lucretia stared at the mountain of wealth before her. It was a true fortune. One talent was roughly half a man’s weight, so the fifteen talents came out to about seven or eight men in silver.

Siro stood beside her as they watched the crates of coin be loaded into the house. “I’m not sure what you did to achieve this, lady, but you have my eternal gratitude. And Felix’s as well, I’m sure.”

She refrained from telling Siro what she had staked to attain this much coin. Nerves spiraled in her belly as she surveyed the massive fortune. If anything went wrong today, she would lose everything.

She tried to distract herself by focusing on the logistics of the day. “Is everything prepared?” she asked.

Siro nodded. “I have hired two boats that will transport the silver, along with the guard, down the coast to where the pirate vessel waits. The man who delivered Felix’s message gave me clear directions.”

“Will we make it in time?”

Siro raised his gaze skyward. “With Neptune’s blessing, yes. I will accompany one of the boats.” He paused.

“And I will join the other.”

“Felix would wish me to warn you that it may be dangerous. One never knows with pirates.”

Lucretia raised her chin. “I would tell Felix that as half of that silver is mine, I will see it safely delivered.”

Siro dipped his head. “Of course, lady. We will both accompany the ransom.”

“And then we’ll bring him home,” she murmured.