“What are you planning, Caesar?” Terentia said, narrowing her eyes. “Pompey will never forget this, do you realize that? He will not rest until your armies are butchered.”

Julius felt anger surge through him. “Be silent,” he snapped, his voice rising in volume. “You know nothing of my business, or Pompey’s. Leave your threats for your sisters. My men fight because they love Rome and because they love me. Don’t speak of them.”

Bitter shame flooded him as he saw the fear in their faces. He was sickened by his own weakness. With a huge effort, he took control, clasping his shaking hands behind his back.

Terentia raised her head in defiance. “So you are one of those men, Caesar,” she said, sneering. “You put swords into your enemies and you think it is something wonderful. A butcher might as well sing songs about the pigs he kills each day.” One of the other women put a hand on her arm but she shook herself free. “You are here because you chose to be, Caesar, do not forget that! You could have gone back to Gaul with those legions that ‘love’ you. If you valued their lives, you would have saved them then.”

Fear became palpable as the rest froze. Something in Julius’s own pale fury made her realize she had gone too far, and she looked away, biting her lip. After a long pause, he spoke with terrible force.

“Men will die, but they give their lives because they understand more than you ever could. We are here to make the future, woman, nothing less. We will not be ruled by kings. For your safety, for our citizens in Spain and Greece and Gaul, we are here to remake the Republic. It’s a worthy dream. What makes us different from the tribes of Gaul, or the men of Greece? We eat, we sleep, we trade. But there is more, Terentia. More than comfort and more than gold. More even than family, which must eat at you. You sneer because you cannot see there must be a time when a man looks up from his work and says, ‘No. This is too much to bear.’ ”

Terentia might even then have replied if the women around her had not whispered harshly in warning. She subsided under Julius’s glare and would not look at him again.

“If you have sense,” Julius went on, “you will tell the Senate that I have only one enemy in Greece and I have offered him exile rather than this conflict. I have shown my honor at Corfinium. Tell them to remember that I am consul by the same citizens who granted their authority. Rome is with me.” He looked at their hard faces and shrugged. “Make your personal needs known to my men, within reason. I will be on the walls. I will send word to your husbands and fathers that you are safe and unharmed. That is all.”