Milo's eyes were riveted on the horizon ahead as he wearily rode forward. He'd found another horse hitched to a post near a villa outside Pompeii after a day of walking. He'd taken it without thinking then, and he didn't really feel guilty now. Perhaps its owner was among the dead in the city. Maybe he wasn't. Cassia needed him and he could bear the theft on his conscience.
All roads lead to Rome, Milo thought drily. Except the ones that lead to farms, or that split off, or the ones that dwindle into nothingness. He'd been riding for four days and Rome was nowhere to be found. Of course, he had to duck off the road and hide whenever soldiers came by. Even if Corvus didn't have a bounty on him he was still an escaped slave. One would think the destruction of Pompeii would be more important, but this was no time for risks.
At first Milo thought the buildings in the distance were trees or perhaps ruins. He'd been riding so long he'd started to wonder if Rome was a legend. He stared at them. They were most assuredly buildings. Scores of buildings stretching back for miles.
Rome. Milo thought, first disbelievingly and then exultingly. Rome!
Then he wasn't tired anymore. He spurred his horse to a gallop. It flew forward with Milo crouched on his back. He felt its solid muscles stretching and tensing as its long limbs pounded the ground. He remembered why he loved horses and riding. He felt like an arrow launched toward his target. He was coming for Cassia. And he was coming for Corvus.