She shrugged. That wasn’t important. “Et to?”
His “Graecus sum … .” came out strangled, so tremulous Margo’s heart constricted. How had this boy come to be a slave?
More importantly, how had he come to be her slave? And what was she going to do about it?
When her host returned to check up on her, Margo struggled to ask. Her Latin was insufficient for the question, but Flaminius removed all doubt when he put Achilles’ chains in her hands and said, “Achilles tuus est servus. “
Oh, great. What am I supposed to do with a slave?
He handed her an iron key.
Margo stared at it for a moment. Achilles sat on his heels, head bowed. Maybe he’ll run again., but so what? I won’t hunt him down if he does. She unlocked his chains. Achilles caught his breath, then tears welled up in his eyes and he ducked his head. Flaminius grunted softly, a sound of profound surprise, then shrugged as if to say, “Your loss.”
At dinner that night, Margo’s unexpected new acquisition waited on her hand and foot. He escorted her to bed, made certain she was comfortably covered, and blew out the lamps. Then took up a guard stance again between her bed and the door.
He was still there the next morning, asleep but in the same spot.
Huh.
By her calculations, she had two days left to find the Time Tours inn, explain and apologize to Malcolm, and go back to La-La Land-a wiser and more cautious trainee scout.
When she tried to leave, Flaminius exclaimed in horror and insisted, by gestures and signs, that she was a guest in his home and he wouldn’t think of allowing her to leave while she was still recovering. Desperate to get out of the house, she finally resorted to saying, “Circus, Quintus Flaminius. Ludi Megalenses …” figuring if she once made it out into the crowded streets, she’d be able to slip away and break free of his smothering hospitality.