‘No idea. I think we should get there early and try to get a good place. You do know we won’t get to see the actual deed, don’t you?’

‘Not sure I want to.’

Jane remembered Smith. And the blood. ‘They won’t let women in, anyway, but we’ll certainly be able to see what happens afterwards. If we can elbow our way through all the historians who will be cluttering up the place.’

Luke stopped abruptly, apparently lost in thought.

‘Luke?’

‘Jane . . . I’ve had a thought . . . Do you think this is a good idea?’

‘Is what a good idea?’

‘We go to St Mary’s and ask for sanctuary.’

‘I don’t think sanctuary’s legal any longer.’

‘No, think about it. I bet St Mary’s would take us in, only if to wind up Commander Hay.’

‘Luke – I’m a murderer and you’re a traitor. Even St Mary’s wouldn’t touch us.’

He opened his mouth to argue, but fortunately, at that moment, they reached the Tiber which distracted him. ‘Well, your fears about missing the river were slightly unfounded, Jane. It’s a bit big, isn’t it?’

It was indeed a bit big. In front of them, a wide, muddy, smelly river, still swollen from the winter rains, stretched away in both directions. Jane couldn’t help thinking that, corked or not, Pontius Whateverhisnamewas would have sunk like a stone.

Both banks were packed with towering buildings with small boats moored alongside, all loading and unloading bundles, sacks, crates and barrels into the warehouses behind them. There were even cages of animals. Men shouted and gesticulated. Carts were loaded and driven off to other warehouses, waiting for night to fall. More carts took their place and the whole procedure began again. Jane found it very easy to believe they were standing at the centre of the city that was the centre of the world. All roads – and rivers – led to Rome.

‘It never stops, does it?’ she said, gazing about her in wonder.

‘The AI says nearly a million people lived in Rome at this time so no, I don’t suppose it ever does.’

They crossed the bridge. ‘Pons Aemilius,’ said Jane, consulting Luke’s scratchpad which was showing a helpful map.

‘Let’s have a look.’ Luke took it from her, enlarged the map and looked about them. ‘Hey, up there on the Palatine is the Hut of Romulus. The founder of Rome. It’s been there for hundreds of years. We should definitely check that out. Especially since the scratchpad says it’ll burn down in a couple of years’ time. What do you think?’

‘Absolutely,’ said Jane, with enthusiasm. And then, ‘Wouldn’t it be nice if we were just ordinary tourists, without a care in the world?’

‘What, Temporal Tourism, you mean?’

‘Oh no. That’s illegal.’