“You saw me in the arena, didn’t you? My second bout, when I was thirteen and got my shoulder speared.” I still had the scar.

“Yes, I saw you. You were quite good too. But you weren’t fighting for me. I’ve never had anyone fight for me before. I can see why girls get all excited about it.”

“You’re an odd one, Lady,” I couldn’t help saying.

“Do you think so? I think I’m quite ordinary.”

“At least we’ve got room to stretch now.” I leaned back, extending one arm casually along the line of her shoulders. She looked amused but let it stay there.

The Reds came in tops by a length, red plumes tossing in triumph over their chestnut heads, and the red-clad portion of the circus exploded into cheers. Three more heats followed as the sun descended into the heat of afternoon. There was another victory for the Reds and two for the Greens, and I was starting to get restless. “Food?” I suggested. “There’s only so many times you can watch horses run in a circle.”

“It does start to look the same after a while,” Sabina agreed. “Where shall we go?”

I could think of a few places to go, most with convenient flat spots and none having anything to do with food, but this was a senator’s daughter. “There are vendors about.” I bulled a path in the crush, and Sabina followed in my wake.

“Sausages?” she suggested, pointing to a little stand.

“Better not. More likely dog than pork.”

“I wonder why we don’t eat dog,” she mused. “We eat geese and pigs, and they’re just as domesticated. We eat eels and lampreys, and they’re too vile-looking even to contemplate in their natural form. But we don’t eat dog, not unless we’re really desperate.”

“You want to try?”

“No, I confess I don’t. But I wonder why?”

“You wonder a lot of things.”

“Don’t you?”

“I wonder where my next meal’s coming from. Or I wonder what I’ll be doing a year from now.”

“I already know what I’ll be doing a year from now.” She tucked her hand into my elbow. “Perhaps that frees me up to wonder about the odd things.”

“What will you be doing a year from now?”

“I’ll be married. What else is there?”

I got her fried bread and strips of some lean roasted meat that at least wasn’t dog. We watched the fifth race from the stands, munching, and when the Blues won I taught the senator’s daughter a few colorful curses to hurl down at them.

“Die slowly, you Blue whoresons,” she yelled down at the track where the Blue chariot wheeled in triumph, and I grinned as she added a few more choice phrases. Then, behind us, I heard a cool patrician voice.

“Lady Vibia Sabina, are you lost?”