He would never have asked, but I made it easy for him: ‘You have no bodyguards with you. You might not keep your wits about you if you’re tired. Stay here. Go back in the morning. Who is going to mind?’

I told him where to find a bedroom. It was the one Quintus commandeered that afternoon, though I did not say so. Faustus took himself off gratefully. I sat on outside, merely bidding him a quiet goodnight.

I changed to the more comfortable chair, still warm from his presence. I stayed for a while there in the courtyard, wondering if Faustus would return. He did not. That did not surprise me.

My mischievous uncle may have left us together on purpose − such a waste of thoughtfulness. Still, Holy Venus. How bad was it to be spurned because a man was tired?

I was still there, unintentionally drowsing, when another commotion woke me. People – several this time – were in the street outside, hammering on the door for attention.

Manlius Faustus shot from his room. He pushed me behind him as he unzipped the grille and cautiously looked out. When he demanded to know who was making such a disturbance, we heard it was slaves from the Camillus brothers. Aulus had sent them. They had horrible news.

As Uncle Quintus made his way home that evening, he and his bodyguards were ambushed. His men managed to drag him to their house, but Quintus had been hurt.

Oh dear gods. It was Nicostratus all over again. My imagination filled with the terrible image of the door porter’s corpse, covered with blood from those many gruesome wounds, those injuries from which he never recovered consciousness. The injuries that killed him.

24

‘Is he alive?’

The slaves knew nothing.

I realised what had happened. Those men I saw earlier departing from that bar opposite were not innocent drinkers, but criminals. Watching the house. Waiting for someone to leave, with specific orders to look for a senator. The Rabirii sent them after us. The men tailed Justinus until he reached a suitable spot, then brutally set about him.

It was no random act. It was a warning. We had taken too much interest.

‘Tiberius, I have to go!’

‘Stay here, where you are safe.’

‘Was Nicostratus safe? Aviola and Mucia Lucilia?’

‘Albia, do as I say, please.’

‘Don’t give me orders.’

‘Only advice.’ Well, aedile, that is always irritating.

We were standing in the street by then. The damned man was so stubborn with me, he might as well have been one of my family. I was trying to break away and he was trying to shepherd me back into the house. I wanted to kick him, but I was wearing only house slippers. Besides, I would never have aimed right, as I havered in panic over whether to pelt straight off to the Camillus house or first rush indoors for shoes I could run in.