“Tell the servants to stay out. I want to talk.” Flexinna signed to Vocco and they exchanged glances.
“Why did you keep up the farce so long?” Brinnaria sneered. “I saw through it from the first.”
“We were afraid,” Vocco apologized, “that what I have to tell you would spoil your appetite.”
“It would take something pretty bad to spoil my appetite,” Brinnaria reflected. “Is Almo dead?”
“Not so b-b-bad as that,” spoke Flexinna.
“Tell me, Quintus,” Brinnaria breathed.
Vocco fidgeted.
“It’s an amazing story,” he began.
“All his story, all my story, all our story,” Brinnaria cut in, “is amazing. Leave out the comments and tell the story.”
“While Almo was away on the expedition against the nomads of the plateau,” Vocco narrated, “Pennasius fell ill, was allowed to resign his governorship and Grittonius took his place. On Almo’s return Grittonius complimented him most highly and promised him any reward he asked for. Almo amazed him by asking for a full and honorable discharge from the army. Grittonius expostulated with him but Almo held him to his promise. In spite of the governor’s appeals to his pride and to his patriotism he insisted, and Grittonius gave him his full official discharge. At once Almo applied for permission to sell himself as a slave. This so astounded Grittonius that he made him repeat the application before witnesses and give his reasons. Almo explained that he had always been devoted to horseracing and that he wanted formally and regularly to article himself to one of the racing companies as a charioteer; that he had always craved that life and had longed for it more and more as his career as a soldier went on. He said there was no use in his continuing a life he detested, nor missing the happiness he anticipated as a charioteer.