Octavian was in the stables helping Tubruk to mount. The stallion Julius had ridden that morning gleamed from the brush. Julius patted the boy on the shoulder in thanks as he threw his leg into the saddle, the memory of the exhilarating ride easing his anger for a moment. Guiltily, he realized he was pleased to get away from the estate, from her.

*                                                      *                                                      *

The lands owned by Suetonius’s father were closer to the city than Julius’s own, with a great stretch that touched his own borders. Though the senator had no military rank, he employed a number of guards, who challenged the two travelers as soon as they passed the border, then accompanied them to the main buildings with professional caution and speed. Messengers were sent ahead as Julius and Tubruk approached the house entrance, and the two men exchanged glances at the efficiency.

The place where Suetonius had grown up was a sprawling mass of white-walled enclosures, nearly twice the size of the one Julius had inherited. The same stream that fed his own land ran through the Prandus holdings, and the grounds were lush with growth and color. Ancient pines shaded the entrance, and the path up to it was cool from the shadows cast by overhanging branches. Tubruk sniffed in disapproval.

“Impossible to defend, this place,” he muttered. “The trees give too much cover and it needs a good outer wall and gate. I could take it with twenty men.”

Julius didn’t reply, thinking of his own home, with the cleared land all around it. He hadn’t realized before what a mark Tubruk’s influence had left, especially after the slave riots years before. Suetonius’s house was beautiful and made his own seem stark and bare in contrast. Perhaps Cornelia would find time passed more easily if her surroundings were less like a soldiers’ barracks.

They dismounted to pass through the entrance, a tiled arch leading into an open garden where they could hear the rush of running water hidden by flowering bushes and plants. Julius removed the heavy packs from the horses and shouldered his, with Tubruk taking the other, passing the reins into the hands of the slaves that came to greet them. They were shown to seats in a cool outer chamber and told to wait.

Julius settled himself comfortably, well aware that the senator could ignore their presence for a good part of the day. Tubruk went to a window to look at blooms that Julius thought might appeal to Cornelia around their own home.

A young male slave entered from the inner house and approached the two men.

“Senator Prandus welcomes you, Tribune. Please follow me.”

Tubruk raised his eyebrows in surprise at the speed of the response. Julius shrugged and the two of them followed the slave into a far wing, where the man opened a door for them and bowed as they entered.