“Who is there?” a strange voice called, accompanied by quick footsteps to the top of the wall within. A face she did not know looked down at her, carefully blank as the slave took in her appearance and the little boy who held her hand. She raised her head defiantly under this scrutiny, looking back as confidently as she could despite her racing heartbeat.

“Alexandria. I have come to see Tubruk. Is he here?”

“Please wait for a moment, madam,” the slave replied, disappearing.

Alexandria took a quick breath. He had judged her as a freewoman. She straightened her shoulders further, her confidence growing. It would be hard to face Tubruk, and she had to force herself to be calm as she waited. Octavian remained silent, still angry at the decision they had made for him.

When Tubruk pushed open the gate and came out to her, she almost wilted, gripping Octavian’s hand hard enough to make him yelp. The man seemed unchanged, still the same as the rest of the world swept wildly onward. His smile was genuinely friendly and she felt some of her tension ease.

“I heard you were doing well,” he said. “I can have some food brought if you’re hungry.”

“Thirsty, after the walk, Tubruk. This is Octavian.” Tubruk bent down to look at the small boy as he edged behind Alexandria, looking worried.

“Good morning, lad. I expect you are hungry?” Octavian nodded convulsively and Tubruk chuckled. “I never knew a boy who wasn’t. Come inside, I’ll have refreshments brought to us.”

Tubruk paused in thought for a moment.

“Marcus Brutus is here,” he said, “and Renius with him.”

Alexandria stiffened slightly. The name of Renius carried bitter memories. Brutus, too, was a name from her forgotten past; sweetness mixed with pain. She gripped Octavian tightly as they passed through the gate, more for her own comfort than his.

The courtyard brought bright memories back to her with a small shudder. She had stood . . . there, to stab a man who grabbed at her, and Susanna had died over by the gate. She shook her head and took a deep breath. It was too easy to become lost in the past, here of all places.

“Is the mistress at home?” she asked.

Tubruk’s expression changed slightly as he replied, making him look older. “Aurelia is very unwell. You won’t be able to see her, if that’s what you want.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but it was you I came to see.”

He led them into a quiet room that she had rarely entered in her time as a slave. The floor was warm and the room felt comfortable and lived in. Tubruk left them to arrange a meal and she began to relax even further as they waited alone. Octavian fidgeted irritably, scuffing his sandals on the rug until Alexandria stopped his swinging feet with a firm grip on his knee.