Read Online Mark of the Thief by Jennifer A. Nielsen - Free Book Online

that,” he said. “Put your hands in your lap and try to look relaxed.” I obeyed and he added, “I’ll want to see that bulla next time we’re alone.”
    Maybe. I didn’t really want to show him, but he seemed to know more about it than I did. Besides, if my troubles were as bad as he suggested, then I definitely needed someone’s help.
    When we drew up to the soldiers, Felix told them who he was and about the griffin he was bringing in.
    A soldier eyed me. “You have new slaves too?”
    “Just this one.” Felix’s tone was relaxed, a reminder for me not to look as guilt-ridden as I felt. He brushed his arm toward me, pushing my hand away from the bulla again, and then added, “He isn’t worth much, but he’ll be of some use with the animals.”
    “Since when does a worthless slave ride up front with his master?” The soldier drew his sword and used it to point at me. “Climb down here, boy.”
    What if Radulf had told them to watch for a slave with a bulla? What if they saw the tear in my tunic? My heart pounded as I considered my options, all of which ended with me on Caela’s back, attempting to outrace the soldiers’ arrows. Or Aurelia’s knife — I wasn’t sure whose side she’d be on. Either way, Caela would have to break herself out.
    As if she had heard my thoughts, there was a sudden banging in the caravan, so fierce it nearly overturned the wagon. The soldiers jumped back and Felix began shouting about letting us pass before his cargo became truly angry. But I was more focused on a sizzling sting in my shoulder that seemed connected to Caela’s squawking. She had heard my thoughts. Just as the mark was a part of me now, and the bulla, she had become a part of me too.
    “Move on,” the soldier shouted, waving us on. “Get that animal into a cage where it belongs!” Felix immediately obeyed, though he brushed my hand away from the bulla yet again as we passed between the gates.
    “It’s safe now,” I communicated to Caela. “Be calm.” And as she settled down, the sting in my shoulder eased too.
    “Can you explain what just happened?” Felix muttered.
    “No.” Well, I could explain it, but I wouldn’t . Not until I better understood it myself.
    Minutes later, as we crossed the bridge over the Tiber River, I began breathing more evenly, and Felix’s knuckles around the horse’s reins were no longer white. The river was wide and powerful, though I wasn’t sure how deep it went. I only knew that I didn’t care to find out. On the opposite side, a small brick arch was dug into the bank with dark water pouring into the river.
    “That’s the Cloaca Maxima ,” Felix said when I pointed it out to him. “Rome brings in new water from all over the land on great aqueducts above our heads, and then sends the old water out again in the sewers beneath our feet.”
    The very notion of sewers running below ground was amazing. One of my few memories from Gaul was having sewage accidentally tossed on me while walking down a road. I couldn’t imagine a place where water freely came and went, where thirst wasn’t a daily problem.
    As Rome came into view, my eyes fixed upon the aqueducts, large enough that I doubted anyone but the gods could have built them. Their massive arches towered over tall brick buildings that served as homes, shops, and majestic public forums. Shoddier ones were constructed of wood, many of which had burn scars on them, and I wondered what would happen to this city if a fire ever raged out of control.
    Around us, the streets bustled with people and carts and wagons, everyone with someplace to go and a job to do. I’d never seen so many people in my life. I had no idea that so many people even existed.
    As we came closer to the center of Rome, the buildings grew finer and so grand they stole my breath away. Each one seemed like a palace, lining the streets with white marble walls and columns, or thick, square-cut granite, all of them trimmed with gold, silver, or