By the time the winter frosts had begun to lessen, Julius was already tired of the pale imitation of Rome that was Ariminum. He hungered for the mountain snows to clear, though the end of winter brought a secret guilt and fear. Each day that passed brought him closer to the point when he would either see his oldest friend return or know he would have to cross the mountains without him.

Brutus had shed his cloak for the last stage of the ride south to Rome. Though the air was still sharp, it had nothing like the bite of Gaul and the exertion of riding kept him warm. His original mount had been left far behind at the first legion post on the Via Flaminia. He had paid to have the gelding looked after and would collect the horse as his final change on his return. The system had allowed him a remount every thirty miles, and he had made the journey in only seven days.

After his first joy at walking through the city gate, everything had soured as soon as he took in his surroundings. Rome looked the same in many ways, but his soldier’s instincts had brought an immediate prickling alarm. Alexandria’s letters should have prepared him for the changes, but she had not managed to convey the sense of raw panic that hung in the air. Half the men he passed were armed in some way or another. It was something a trained eye could spot at a glance. They walked differently with a concealed blade and Brutus could feel a tension he had never before experienced on the streets of his home. No one lingered or talked on street corners. It was almost a city under siege and unconsciously he copied the crowds as he hurried to Alexandria’s shop.

He knew a moment of fear when he found it boarded up and empty. Passersby heard him calling, but not one of them dared to meet his eyes. Even the beggars were missing from the streets and Brutus stood still as he considered the implications. The city was terrified. He had seen it before amongst those who knew a war was coming.

Even knocking on the doors of the other shops in the road was worrying. The owners looked sick with nervousness at the sight of him, and three of them only stared blankly as he tried to ask where Tabbic had gone. The fourth was a butcher who held a heavy cleaver defensively the whole time Brutus was in his shop. The iron blade seemed to give him a confidence the others lacked, and he directed Brutus to an area many streets away. Brutus left him still holding the weapon.

Out in the road, the feeling intensified again. When he had been in Greece, the veterans talked of an “itch” that told them trouble was coming. Brutus felt it tickle him as he marched through the thin crowds.

By the time he reached the address, he was almost certain he should get Alexandria out of the city before it exploded. Whatever was coming, he did not want her in the middle of it.

The new shop was much larger and occupied two full floors of a well-kept tenement. Brutus raised his hand to knock and saw the door was open. He narrowed his eyes then and drew his gladius silently. He’d rather look a fool than go unprepared into a dangerous situation, and by that point he was jumping at shadows.

The interior was five times the size of the little shop Tabbic had owned before. Brutus edged inside, his gaze fastening on the figures at the far end. Alexandria and Tabbic were there, with two other men. Facing them were four others, of a type he had seen too often in the streets outside. None of them had seen him and Brutus forced himself to walk slowly toward the group, passing the huge new forge that lurked against the wall and threw heat at him as he passed. Its crackle hid the slight noise of his sandals on the stone floor, and he was very close when one of the men stepped forward and pushed Alexandria down.

With a shout, Brutus raced forward and the four men spun to face him. Two carried knives and two had swords like his own, but he did not pause in his rush. Alexandria shouted wildly at him and only the desperation in her voice made him hold his first blow.

“No, Brutus! Don’t!” she cried.

The men who threatened her were professionals, he saw. They moved aside so as not to be exposed to blades from behind as they faced him. Brutus lowered his sword and stepped into their range as if he had nothing to fear.

“What goes on here?” he demanded, glaring at the man who had pushed her.

“None of your concern, boy,” one of them said, jerking his sword in Brutus’s direction to make him flinch. Brutus regarded him impassively.

“You really haven’t the first idea who you are speaking to, have you?” he said, grinning nastily. His sword tip cut small circles in the air as he held it lazily at his side. The tiny movement seemed to draw the gazes of the other men, but the one who had spoken held his eyes, not daring to look away. There was something terrible in the way Brutus stood so casually before their blades, and his confidence intimidated all of them.

“Who are they, Ria?” Brutus said, without looking at her.

“Collectors for Clodius,” she replied as she stood up. “They are demanding more money than we have.

More than we earn. But you mustn’t kill them.”

Brutus frowned. “Why not? No one would miss them.”

One of the raptores answered him. “Because that pretty girl wouldn’t like what our friends would do to her, boy. So put your sword-”

Brutus cut the man’s throat and stood without expression as he collapsed, watching the others.

Though he was only inches from their blades, not one of them dared to move.

“Anyone else want to make threats?” he said.

They stared wide-eyed at him and they could all hear the ghastly choking sounds coming from the floor.

No one looked down.

“Oh gods, no,” he heard Alexandria whisper.

Brutus ignored her, waiting for one of the men to break the stillness that held them. He had seen Renius intimidate groups before, but there were always fools. He watched as the men shuffled backward away from him until they were out of range of his gladius. Brutus took a sharp step toward them.

“No little taunts now, lads. No calling out as you go. Just leave. I’ll find you if I have to.”

The men exchanged glances, but none of them broke the silence as they walked past the forges to the street door. The last to pass through closed it quietly behind him.

Alexandria was pale with anger and fear.

“That’s it, then,” she said. “You don’t know what you’ve done. They’ll come back with more and burn this place down. Gods, Brutus, did you not hear what I said?”

“I heard, but I’m here now,” he replied, wiping his sword on the cooling body at his feet.

“For how long? We have to live with them when you’ve gone back to your legions, don’t you realize that?”

Brutus felt a flare of anger start in him. He’d had just about enough of being criticized from Julius.

“I should have just watched, then? Yes? I’m not who you think I am if you expect me just to stand there while they threaten you.”

“He’s right, Alexandria,” Tabbic broke in, nodding to Brutus. “There’s no taking it back now, but Clodius won’t just forget us, or you. We’ll have to sleep in the workshop for the next few nights. Will you stay with us?”

Brutus eyed Alexandria. It wasn’t exactly the homecoming he had imagined on his ride south, but then he shrugged.

“Of course. It will save me rent, at least. Now, am I going to get a welcoming kiss or not? Not from you,

Tabbic, obviously.”

“First, get rid of that body,” Alexandria said.

She had begun to shake with reaction and Tabbic placed a kettle on the forge to make her a hot drink.

Brutus sighed and took hold of the corpse by its ankles, dragging it over the stone flags.

When he was out of earshot, Teddus leaned close to Alexandria.