"We have come thus far," said Phryne. In the earliest sky-lightening, Eodan saw how her eyes were dark-rimmed from weariness. He himself felt bowstring tense; sleep would be his enemy. "What have we to lose?" he added to the girl's words. Flavius looked over at Hwicca. She sat on the bed's edge, white-mouthed and red-eyed, watching them like a leashed dumb beast. "Much, my friend," said Flavius. "As runaway slaves, you should be killed, or at least whipped and branded, but I could still save you. I could say you went on a secret errand for me. I could not save you if you were caught after having taken a Roman citizen hostage." "Would you spare us even now?" snorted Eodan. "What oath can you give me?" "None," said Flavius. "You would have to chance my mood. But be sure I have no complaint against Hwicca--yet. If she is taken with you, though, abetting your flight and my capture, she will also die, piece by piece." He shook his head. "Eodan, Eodan, you meant to save this girl, but you will give her to death!" "Better that than you!" "Do you not understand?" said Flavius gently. "It would not be a quick throat-cutting. The least she could await would be the arena beasts, under the eye of all Rome. But the people have developed more refined tastes in such matters--and they are savage in their fear of slave mutiny. A servile war was ended only months ago in Sicily; I do not think she would merely face lions." It was as though some hand closed on Eodan's heart. His wrist went slack, the sword drooped downward. "Hwicca," he mumbled, "what have we done to the Powers?" Flavius smiled in his own locked manner and held out his hand. "Will you give me that sword?" he asked. Phryne whirled upon Hwicca. "You lump!" she yelled. "Is it you that he would die for?" The Cimbrian girl shook herself. She got to her feet and moved across the floor like a sleepwalker. "No, Eodan," she said in their own tongue. "Hold fast." There was scant life in her voice, but it tapped the wells of his inward self. Eodan drew his head up again, so that he loomed over them all, and laughter grew in his mouth. He jabbed at Flavius' throat, forcing the Roman back. "We sail today," he said in Latin. "Or else you shall be spitted on this. And I will be swift enough afterward to kill the girls and fall on the blade myself." Flavius caught a breath as though to speak, met Eodan's green gaze and blew out again. He spread his hands and shrugged. "Now," said Phryne, "we must have a plausible story for your sudden departure. Eodan and I are Narbonensian Gauls who have brought you an urgent message from your kinsman Septimus, who resides in Massilia." "You kept your ears wide while you ate my salt, Phryne," said Flavius, with a sidelong glance at Hwicca.