Thus had the calming effect of Eco's brief visit banished pessimism and lulled me into a state of goodwill towards my fellow men.

We rode across the stream and up the hillside. As we crossed the fields, the slaves I saw were taking respite from the heat, resting in the shade of olive trees and fig trees. They looked at me strangely, but none of them challenged us.

The farm was less well kept than I had thought. From the vantage point of the ridge it looked idyllic, but distance obscures a barn made of rotting wood or an orchard where trees have been spotted by blight. The grass was high, long overdue for mowing. It hissed all around us as our horses stepped through the growth, setting grasshoppers and chirring cicadas to flight. Aratus clucked his tongue in disapproval as he surveyed the conditions of the livestock and their pens. 'It's one thing to see such filthiness in the city — there you've got a million people all pressed together, and who can help it? But in the country things should be clean and neat. So long as a man owns enough slaves, there's no excuse for such a mess.'

Looking around us at the overgrown hedges, the poody mended fences, the scattered tools and the piles of debris, I had to agree with him. I had thought Publius Claudius was a rich man. How could he allow his property to fall into such disrepair?

We dismounted and tethered our horses. The house was in better shape than the sheds and barns around it, but the tiles on the roof needed repairing. On the way to the door I tripped on a cracked paving stone and almost fell. Aratus caught my arm and helped to right me.

He rapped on the door, at first gently, then harder. Even if the household was napping in the heat of the day, there should be a slave to answer the door. Aratus looked back at me with his lips pursed. I nodded for him to rap more loudly.

From within came the sound of a dog barking, and then a man shouting for the dog to be quiet. I expected the door to open then, but instead there was silence.

Aratus looked back at me. 'Well, go ahead,' I said. 'Knock again.'

Aratus knocked. The dog barked again. The man shouted and cursed, at us now instead of the dog. 'Go away or you'll get a beating!' he yelled.

"This is ridiculous,' I said. Aratus stepped out of my way to let me bang on the door myself 'Your master has visitors at the door!' I said. 'Open it now or it's you who'll get the beating!'

The dog barked and barked. The voice beyond the door cursed us and blasphemed half the gods of Olympus. There was a loud whimpering squeal and the barking ceased. At last the door rattled and swung open. I wrinkled my nose at the smell from within — a mixture of dog, stale sweat, and stewed cabbage.

Beyond the little foyer was an atrium bright with sunlight, so that I saw the man in silhouette and for a moment could only dimly make out his features. I noticed his hair first, long and unkempt like a shaggy mane, streaked with grey. He had the posture of an old man, stooped and slump-shouldered, but he looked neither small nor weak. His tunic was rumpled and worn-looking, all awry, as if he had just pulled it on. As I saw him more clearly, I noticed his grizzled jaw, covered with several days' worth of stubble, and his big, fleshy nose. His eyes were bloodshot, and he squinted as if the light caused him pain.

'Who are you and what do you want?' he growled, his speech slurred by wine.

‘Numa's balls, I thought, what a slave to answer the door! Clearly, Publius Claudius paid no more attention to the running of his private household than he did to the running of his farm. 'My name is Gordianus,' I said. 'I own the farm that once belonged to Lucius Claudius, across the stream. I've come to speak- with your master.'

The man laughed. 'My master — fah!'

Behind me, Aratus sucked in a breath. 'Sheer insolence!' he whispered.

The man laughed again. Behind him there was a flash of movement in the sunlit atrium. A girl, completely naked except for a crumpled garment she carried in her hands, stepped into the light and looked towards the doorway with wide startled eyes. She was young — so young that I might have taken her for a boy had it not been for the matted tangle of her long black hair.

I pursed my lips. 'Obviously, Publius Claudius must be away from the farm for such behaviour to take place in his own house,' I said dryly.

The man turned and saw the girl, then lunged at her and clapped his hands. 'Out of here, Dragonfly! Put on your clothes and get out of my sight or I'll give you a beating. Ha! What manners — showing your naked backside to visitors! Come back here and I'll add some stripes to go with my handprints, you little harpy!'

He turned back to us, wearing a self-satisfied smirk. With a sinking feeling I glanced down at his right hand and saw that he wore a ring on his finger — and not just a common citizen's iron ring, but a patrician's band that gleamed golden in the soft light.

'You must be Publius Claudius,' I said dully. My eyes having adjusted to the light, I studied his face and saw that it was true. I had seen him in court at the Forum in Rome, but only at a distance and with his hair neatly clipped and his beard shaved, and he had worn a fine toga. He had looked as staid and sober as a man running for office. In his own home he showed a very different face.

He looked me up and down. 'Ah, yes, I remember you. The man who got away with Cousin Lucius's property. You looked all stuffed full of yourself in the court, silly and dull like most city boys. You still look like a city boy.'

I drew myself up. It does not do to be insulted in front of one's slaves. 'Publius Claudius, I've come as your neighbour, to discuss a small matter involving the stream that marks our common boundary.'

'Fah!' He curled his lip. 'We'll settle the matter in court. And this time you won't have that windbag Cicero to come to your rescue by wriggling his silver tongue between the judges' buttocks. I understand he's already got his mouth full just to keep them smiling in the Senate.'

'You have a foul tongue, Publius Claudius.'

'At least I don't put it where Cicero does.'

I took a breath. 'As you say, Publius, the matter of water rights will be settled in court. Until then I have no intention of stopping using the stream—'

'So I've seen. Oh, come, if it's the feuding between the washerwomen that's brought you here, let the matter go! Yes, yes, one of your slaves was struck by a stone. My foreman told me all about it. Well, can she still do her work or not? If she's ruined, I’ll give you one of mine in exchange. But I won't go paying damages just because a washerwoman spilled a little blood — it's not as if she were a pleasure slave and the scar would make a difference. What more do you want from me? I gave every one of the slaves involved a sound beating, and gave special punishment to the little witch who threw the stone — she won't soon try that again. I hope you did the same to your slaves — that's my advice, and if you haven't done so, then do it now. It's never too late. They'll have forgotten what they did wrong, but they'll remember the beating if you do it properly. Sometimes a beating is a good idea, even if they've done nothing wrong. Just to remind them who's in charge.'

'Publius Claudius, the matter I've come to discuss—'

'Oh, Romulus and Remus, it's far too hot to stand here in the doorway talking. Come on inside. Who's this behind you, your foreman? Yes, bring him in, too — but leave the big one outside. You don't need a bodyguard to enter my house. What sort of man do you think I am? You, slave, close the door behind you. Ah, good, my couch is still in the shade.'

There was a fountain in the courtyard, but no water; the basin was littered with twigs and straw. Publius fell back onto his couch. There was only a stool for me to sit on. Aratus, having closed the door, took a place behind me and stood.