in the arena. The horse screamed a warning and came off the ground, biting suddenly and savagely at the man's arm.
Charlie grabbed mane hair with his free hand and fought pain in his ribcage. Bloody war horse. . . . But Quintus' eyes had widened. Charlie shoved the tip of the gladius right up against his windpipe and drew a droplet of blood.
"Where is she?" Charlie snarled. "I don't give a damn about you! All I want is the woman, Aelia!"
"I don't know! In the house! Try the peristyle garden—"
Charlie urged Silver through sagging doors into the damaged house, snatching the slave's torch as he shouldered past. Silver's hooves clattered and slid on broken mosaic.