I steeled myself and shook him till his eyes rattled.

“Hey—!”

“Hush, there’s no time. For once you have to listen to me, Vix.” I peeked around the edge of the vestibule. “They’re already looking for me. Vix, you have to go—I can’t keep you here.” I paused, groping wildly. “Lady Flavia.”

“Who?”

“Guard!” I seized the arm of the nearest Praetorian. Thank God Domitian was still absorbed with his own guards, on the other side of the Temple of Venus. “Guard, this slave boy has run away from Lady Flavia Domitilla’s household in Tivoli. You must see him back to his mistress.”

The guard eyed my dusty, scowling son dubiously. No doubt thinking of the sixteen-mile ride to Tivoli.

“Take him at once.” I put all the haughtiness of an Emperor’s mistress into my voice. “He is Lady Flavia’s favorite pageboy, and she’ll reward you handsomely for returning him. Take this”—I pressed a few coins into the guard’s hand—“for your trouble.”

“Yes, Lady.” He tramped off toward his centurion to beg leave, and I whirled on Vix.

“Mother, I’m tired.” His hand still gripped mine under my cloak—for years he’d been too tough to hold my hand in public, and now he was clinging to me. “My feet hurt an’ I’m hungry an’—”

“You’re being taken to Lady Flavia Domitilla in Tivoli,” I cut him off ruthlessly. No time to hug and cuddle him, no matter how much I wanted to. “Lady Flavia, the Emperor’s niece. Tell her—privately—that you’re my son. Athena’s son.” I stripped a silver bracelet off my wrist, a bracelet Flavia had seen me wear often, and pressed it into his hand. “Give her this. Flavia will see you right, she’s always got children running about.” I kissed him hard, pushed some coins into his dirty hands, turned to see the Praetorian tramping back. “I hope Lady Flavia gives you a good beating for your disobedience, boy,” I said loudly. “Praetorian, be sure you watch him. He’s nothing but trouble.”

Vix gave me a dirty look as the guard hauled him off. He twisted in the hard grip, and at the same moment a hand fell on my arm—Domitian. For a moment, my son and my Emperor locked eyes.

“Caesar!” I said brightly. “We should retreat—” and drew him away as best I could, until I could look back and see that my son and his keeper had gone.

I was lucky. Really very lucky. Domitian was in high bad temper, but he didn’t punish me. Just had one of his stewards march me back to his private palace, the Domus Augustana, and dump me in a luxurious room to rot.

The fire in the gladiator barracks burnt itself out. Not much damage, as I found out later. Two things had been found among the ashes: the Barbarian’s armor and shield. Divine fire, whispered the plebs, who talked of seeing him fly down to Hades. Praetorians, I would have said if anyone had asked me. Praetorians acting on Domitian’s orders: killing the Barbarian and then burning the body. Only one lord and god in Rome.