“My orders are from Pompey, Consul,” the centurion said. “This house is not to be touched.”

Julius frowned. It would not be a good beginning for his new policies if he butchered decent men doing their duty. With the restrictions he had imposed on himself, it was an impasse.

“Will you allow me entry on my own? I will come unarmed,” he said, stepping into range of the weapons held before him.

The centurion narrowed his eyes and Julius heard a hiss of breath from the soldiers of the Tenth. His legion would not like him walking into danger, but he could see no other choice.

A voice sounded from within the grounds. “Let me through!”

Julius smiled as he recognized it. A low murmur of protest came from somewhere out of sight.

“The man you have kept waiting is my father. I don’t care what your orders are, you will let me through to him!”

Once again the soldiers at the gate shifted, this time in excruciating embarrassment. Julius laughed at their predicament.

“I don’t think you can stop her coming out to me, can you, gentlemen? Will you lay hands on Pompey’s own wife? I think not. My daughter walks where she chooses.”

Though he spoke to all of them, his eyes held those of the centurion, knowing the decision was his. At last the man spoke a few curt words and the shields were pulled back.

Julia stood there, her son in her arms. Julius breathed in deeply and noticed the fragrance of the garden for the first time, as if she had brought the scent with her.

“Will you invite me in, Julia?” he asked, smiling.

Julia cast a scornful glance at the soldiers around the gate, still standing awkwardly. Her face was flushed and Julius thought his daughter had never looked more beautiful than in the light of the single lamp.

“You may stand down, Centurion,” she said. “My father will be tired and hungry. Run to the kitchens and have refreshments brought.”

The centurion opened his mouth, but she spoke again before he could voice any objection.

“I want the best sausage, fresh bread, hot wine from my husband’s cellar, cheese and a little fruit.”

The beleaguered soldier looked at father and daughter for a long moment before he gave up. With stiff dignity, he retreated at last.

“My home is yours, Consul,” Julia said, and from the way her eyes sparkled, Julius knew she had enjoyed the clash of wills. “Your visit is an honor.”

“You are kind, daughter,” he replied, enjoying the mock formality. “Tell me, are the families of the Senate still in the city?”

“They are.”

Julius turned to his men, noting the nervous figure of the Greek who had guided them in from the walls. The man shook with fear as Julius considered him.