‘You want to know what I am talking about, Dromo? Well, my dear, this is a sad story, but I will tell you. You must decide for yourself if it had a happy ending … When I was a baby myself, in faraway Britannia, the native tribes had a terrible grievance so they rose up in rebellion. They burned Roman cities and massacred their inhabitants. I was found all alone, not much bigger than this child, screaming in the ashes of a half-built town called Londinium.’

‘Where were your parents?’

‘Dead, for certain.’

‘Killed by the barbarians? Did they just leave you behind or had they dropped you by accident?’

‘Those who found me always said I had been hidden carefully.’

‘What happened to you after?’

‘People took me in, because finding a live baby when all around had been destroyed and burnt seemed like a miracle.’

‘How did you come here?’

‘The first people were no good in the end. Better, more generous people one day became my Roman family.’

‘So whose baby were you?’

‘No idea.’

‘Don’t you want to know?’

‘There is no way I shall ever find out.’

‘Are you going to have her?’ Dromo then demanded gruffly, indicating Myla’s baby. I could tell he really thought I would. I suppose to him it seemed obvious.

‘I never take in strays.’

Even a puppy would be too much for me, and I like dogs. Plenty had given me entreating eyes, even dogs of obvious character. But I was realistic. Tied to a baby I stood no chance.

When I was much younger I might have taken this poor tot home to Mother, but I now realised what a burden that would be. Helena Justina would do it if I pleaded; she would do it out of love for me. That didn’t mean it was right to ask her.

‘Understand, Dromo, the baby is not mine to adopt. She is an orphan, yet she is a slave − which makes her someone else’s property. Taking her would be theft.’

The innocent boy really wanted to believe he had saved the child for a decent life. ‘If she is worth money, they will look after her?’

‘I dare say.’ I had already heard this babe being discussed by her owners, so I had doubts. She was Aviola’s daughter: posthumous, and damned by his legitimate heirs.

We clambered to our feet, with Secundus, Myrinus and Fauna, preparing to leave.

‘I never saw somebody die, right in front of me,’ Dromo announced. He was white-faced, needing to share his shock.