'And the lover of no less a man than Decimus Brutus,' said Jovina, probing. 'He paid a lot of money for you.'

'Thank the gods,' Fabiola answered. 'I show him my appreciation of it every day.'

'That's wonderful,' said the madam, beaming falsely. 'A happy ending!'

Making polite small talk, they both sipped their wine. Each studied the other, Jovina wondering what her former slave's purpose was, and Fabiola trying to assess the situation in the brothel. Neither gained a single crumb of information. Inevitably perhaps, their conversation turned to the civil war and Caesar's accession to power. Whatever her opinion, Jovina was careful to shower praise on Brutus' general. 'Rumour has it that he is trapped in Alexandria,' she said at last. 'That cannot be true, surely?'

'It is. He and his men are badly outnumbered by the Egyptians,' Fabiola answered. 'Brutus and I escaped with great difficulty.'

Jovina gasped. 'Caesar is such a canny general. What has happened?'

Fabiola wasn't going to go into the details. Caesar's rapid pursuit of Pompey after the battle of Pharsalus, with only a small part of his army, was characteristic of the man. The tactic – moving so fast that an enemy was unprepared – normally worked well. This time, it hadn't. The Egyptians' reaction to his presence had been violent, causing him no end of problems. 'Help was already on the way from Pergamum and Judaea when we left,' she revealed. 'And Marcus Antonius despatched a legion from Ostia yesterday. The blockade will soon be lifted.'

'Jupiter be thanked,' said Jovina, raising her glass. 'Fortuna too.'

'Indeed,' replied Fabiola, dark thoughts of revenge filling her mind. When he has won the civil war, Caesar will return to Rome, where I'll be waiting.

The noise of sandals slapping down the corridor preceded the arrival of Vettius and Benignus. Both hulks were beaming. 'Fabiola!' cried Benignus. He rushed to clutch at the hem of her dress like a supplicant to a queen.

Jovina made a show of pleasure, but beneath it she was clearly displeased.

'Get up,' Fabiola ordered fondly, taking hold of Benignus' arms. 'It's wonderful to see you.' Noticing that the thick gold bands which had encircled his wrists were gone, she frowned. Only their outline remained, yet they had been Benignus' prize possessions. Jovina must indeed be in dire straits.

Oblivious, the madam was fussing and bothering over a document on her desk. Sealing it with wax, she handed it to Benignus. 'You know where to take this,' she said.

He looked a bit confused. 'The usual moneylenders? By the Forum?'

'Yes, of course,' snapped Jovina, waving her arms. 'Get moving.'

Bobbing his head, Benignus headed for the door. He threw a grin at Fabiola, which she returned, and was gone. Vettius followed him, resuming his post on the street. Sextus moved to stand just inside the entrance, from where he could keep a watchful eye on the goings-on.

Fabiola's mind was racing. Jovina clearly didn't like her hearing that Benignus was visiting a moneylender on her behalf. Her crazy idea suddenly seemed possible. 'How's business?' she enquired brightly.

At once Jovina's expression became cagey. 'Good as ever,' she replied. Another heavy bout of coughing shook her tiny frame, increasing Fabiola's suspicions. 'Why do you ask?' Jovina wheezed eventually.

Fabiola looked sympathetic. 'Running this place on your own must be such hard work,' she murmured. 'You look wrung out.'

The madam forced a smile, but the decaying teeth and reddened gums it revealed provided little in the way of reassurance. 'I'm fine,' she muttered. 'Although trade is a little slack.'

Sensing a chink in the other's armour, Fabiola stepped closer. 'Really?'

Jovina's face sagged. 'Very poor, in fact,' she admitted, allowing Fabiola to help her sit down. 'About a year ago, a new brothel opened up three streets over. The madam is young and beautiful. And her business partner is bad news.' Bitterness twisted Jovina's lined, painted face. 'They've got good contacts at the slave market too. Get the best-lookers before they even go on sale. I haven't been able to buy a decent replacement in months. How can anyone compete with that? It's a vicious circle; with the usual wear and tear, I'm down to twenty girls.'

Fabiola was all solicitousness. 'What about Benignus and Vettius? They're well capable of roughing someone up.'

A spark of life reappeared in Jovina's tired eyes. 'They are, but a dozen heavies with knives and swords is too much, even for them.'

It was Fabiola's turn to be surprised. Prostitution had turned even dirtier since she'd left it behind. 'Get them to buy more men then,' she advised, surprised at how angered she felt by the new business's effect on the Lupanar. 'Or hire some gladiators. That's not difficult.'

Another sigh. 'I'm tired, Fabiola. My health isn't what it was. The idea of a turf war now…' Jovina stopped, looking beaten.

With a struggle, Fabiola concealed her amazement. This was the woman who had for decades run the best whorehouse in Rome. The same person who had bought her from Gemellus, tested her virginal status in the most personal of ways, and then offered up her first sexual experience to the brothel's customers for a fortune. Sharp as a blade, Jovina had ruled the Lupanar with an iron fist. It was unsurprising that she should grow frail and weak eventually, Fabiola reflected, yet the sight of her, sick and shrunken, was still shocking. But this wasn't the time or place for sympathy, she told herself. She owed Jovina nothing.

There was silence for a moment, and Fabiola realised that not a single man had ventured inside since she had arrived. She would have expected a few by now. 'How bad is the trade exactly?'

Jovina had given up fighting. 'Fortuna is smiling on us if we see more than half a dozen clients a day,' she whispered.

Aghast at this paltry number, Fabiola again let her face reveal nothing. 'That few?'

'I've tried everything,' said the madam. 'Special offers, discounts, boys. I even forced the girls to offer more "specialised" services.'

Fabiola winced, but did not ask more.

'Nothing seems to work. All of them head to that bitch down the road.' Jovina pursed her lips in a brief revival of her former spirit. 'A lifetime of work, and it comes to this,' she exclaimed.

'Something else can be done, surely?' asked Fabiola.

'I've been to all the temples, made plenty of generous offerings. What else is there?' asked Jovina, weariness oozing from her again.

A surge of adrenalin hit Fabiola. Seize the moment, she thought. Take control of the situation. But still she hesitated, suddenly unsure. Whatever she said had to be phrased in just the right way, or Jovina would reject it. Her former owner was not completely on her knees. Equally, her plan must not just fall flat on its face. The Lupanar could prove vital to her preparations for Caesar's downfall. Inspired, Fabiola's lips gave the tiniest twitch. 'Have you ever thought of… retiring?' she asked delicately. 'Taking it easy?'

Jovina snorted; then her beady eyes fixed on Fabiola's, like an eagle on its prey. But this bird had no power left. 'Who would run the place? You, I suppose?'

'It's only a thought,' Fabiola answered smoothly. 'I'd pay a good price, of course. Ignore the state of the books right now and go on last year's figures.' She made an airy gesture. 'If you wished, you could stay on – to oversee the transition period.' Jovina's input would be useful until she got the hang of day-to-day affairs.

The madam looked shocked. 'What's this about?' she demanded. 'After all you went through here, why would you want to take it over?'

Fabiola studied her manicured fingernails. 'I'm bored,' she declared. It wasn't so far from the truth. 'I need something to occupy my time, and this is a job I know well.'