"Was it awful, after I left last night?" I said.

"Mother, you mean?" She managed a little smile. "Not as awful as I expected. She blustered and shrieked at first But once she calmed down, she acted more disappointed than angry. I don't understand her. She was born a slave herself Now she acts as if I was born to marry a patrician, and I've spoiled it."

"It is precisely because your mother was born a slave that she wants you to marry well."

"I suppose. Today she's simply ignoring me."

I sighed. "I know how that feels, all too well. But Diana, how is your health? I know less than I should of what's to be expected with such things. Your mother would know -"

"That was her first concern, after her tantrum last night. She asked me a lot of questions. Everything seems to be as it should be, though I do feel wretched much of the time. That's been the worst tiling about all this – worrying and wanting to talk to her about it, and wanting to talk to you, Papa, and being afraid to. At least that's over."

I fiddled with a stylus. "Perhaps you're not fit for this pregnancy. Again, I'm woefully ignorant of specifics, but I'm sure your mother knows of ways to -"

"No, Papa. I don't want to end it."

"What is it that you do want, Diana?"

"Papa, don't you understand? I'm in love with Davus." She shuddered and blinked. Her lips trembled.

"Diana, please don't cry any more. Your eyes are red enough as it is. But whatever idea you may have in your mind concerning Davus, dismiss it."

"But Davus and I -"

"Impossible, Diana!"

"But why not? Mother was a slave. You married her, didn't you? And that was because she was pregnant with me, wasn't it? Meto was a slave when he was a little boy, and Eco was hardly better, a street urchin, but you adopted them. Why should it be any different -"

"Diana, no!"

The tears came at full flood. "Oh, you're no better than she is! What hypocrites you both are. Well, I'm not a Vestal Virgin! You can't bury me alive just because I love a man! I'm not ashamed that I'm carrying his child!"

"Why don't you yell a bit louder, so they can hear you at Cicero's house? Now I suppose you'll go running from the room."

"No. Why should I? It doesn't matter where I am. I'm miserable! You're a man, you can't know how miserable I am. I'd want to die, if it wasn't for the baby…"

So much for my sanguine mood. "Diana, we’ll talk more about this when I get back." "Where are you going?"

"The day is still young. I have an errand to run, down the Appian Way. If nothing else, it will give me an excuse to spend another night away from this house."

Diana retreated back to her room. I stepped into the garden, avoided Minerva's accusing stare and climbed the ladder to the roof. I came upon Davus near the front of the house, sitting with his arms around his knees. When he heard me he gave such a start I thought he might fall to the street below.

"By Hercules, Belbo, be careful!"

"Davus," he mumbled, hurriedly righting himself and standing. "What?"

"Davus, Master. Not Belbo."

"Oh. Of course. What was I thinking? Belbo had the common sense to be careful on a rooftop. And he never took advantage of a member of my family."

"Oh, Master!" Davus dropped to his knees. Those in the room below must have flinched at the concussion. He bowed his head and clasped his hands. "Have mercy on me! Don't torture me, Master – kill me outright if you must. Torture is worse for big, strong fellows like me. Every slave knows that. Little weaklings are tortured for a while and then they die. But with a man like me, it could go on for days and days. I'm not afraid to die, Master, but I beg you -"

"And how would you prefer to be executed, Davus?"

He turned pale and swallowed. "Cut off my head, Master."

"That is not the part of you which has offended me."

He shuddered and looked up at me with wide eyes. "Don't geld me, Master! I couldn't stand to be a eunuch! Oh, have pity on me!"

"Stop, Davus! Stop, stop, stop. Whatever am I going to do with you? Do you seriously imagine that I might have you killed?"

"What else can I hope for, Master? It's the best punishment I can expect."

"Then what are you doing here?" "Master?"

"Why are you still here, waiting for your fate? Why haven't you jumped off the roof and run away? You wouldn't have much chance of escaping, but it's better than death. Stow away on a boat leaving Ostia. Go into exile, like Milo. Why didn't you run away last night?"

"Because…"

"Yes?"

"Because of…"

"What, Davus? What's kept you here to face your punishment?"

"Master, must you make me say it? It's because of her. Diana. I can't leave as long as she's here. Where else would I go? What would be the point? I should die without her."

"Oh, Davus!" I shook my head. Minerva lay in pieces in my household, and Venus reigned supreme.

We set out on the Appian Way at the sixth hour of the day, when the sun was straight overhead. Pompey's stableman agreed to lend me horses, after I reminded him who I was and told him I still had business to do for his master. This was a small, harmless He, since my business with Pompey was done. Or so I thought at the time.

The stableman, with a broad grin, brought out three horses. I was startled to see that they were the very same horses we had ridden before. All three mounts, it turned out, had returned to the stable together and riderless on the day we were attacked. I felt at once reassured and a little apprehensive to be setting out from Rome astride the same beast as before. I was not sure what to make of the omen, but I was determined to go ahead.

The objective of the trip was simple: I wanted to collect Mopsus and Androcles, the two stableboys I had acquired from Fulvia. I left Eco behind and took only Davus with me. The third horse was for the boys to share on the ride back. I expected that we would spend the night at the inn in Bovillae.

Davus was as quiet as a mute until we passed the Monument of Basilius. He wore a deep frown and grew increasingly agitated. "Master – Master, are you sure…?"

"Sure of what, Davus?"

"Are you sure that you want me with you? Why not one of the other bodyguards?"

"Are you afraid of the horse, Davus? You can't claim to have no experience of riding now. This is your second trip on the same horse! This beast threw you, true, but when a man's been-thrown, the only thing to do is to get back on.

"It's not the horse, Master. I like this horse, actually. I think she trusts me."

"Let's hope you give her no cause to regret that." Davus frowned.

"Besides," I went on, "I could hardly leave you at home in my absence, given the circumstances, could I?"

"You mean… because of your daughter -"

"No, because of my wife. I shouldn't care to return home and find that Bethesda had killed you while I was gone."

Davus swallowed hard. "Still, Master, I don't understand why you're taking me with you, just the two of us."

"I don't quite understand that myself. Reason has fled; I give myself over to impulse. We shall see where the road takes us."

"But Master, we already know that"

"Do we?"

"It leads yonder to Mount Alba."

I laughed out loud. "What a remarkable wit you have, Davus!" Davus laughed, too, but only half-heartedly. Was that because he feared me, or because he did not quite grasp the joke?

It was springtime on the Appian Way. The weather was mild and there was birdsong on the air. The grass was green along the road and spangled with flowers. Slaves and oxen laboured in the fields. There was a great deal of traffic in both directions – sheep and cattle being led to market, messengers on horseback, the Utters and carriages of the rich. The whole world seemed to be awakening from a cold dream of winter.