12

AS THEY NEARED THE city of Rome, after days of hearing reports of chaos and riots in the city, the members of Sebastianus's caravan were quiet and somber, not knowing what they were going to find.

     They had passed through peaceful countryside that appeared to be unaffected by the political news, the farmers' cottages and villas of the rich, nestled in green hills among pastures and vineyards, as sleepy and serene as they had been for centuries. But Sebastianus had not gone into towns and villages at night as was his habit, he had not left the caravan for even a moment, nor had he entertained guests, but had stayed close to his passengers and workers, making his presence known, calming raw nerves and reassuring those who traveled with him that everything was under control. Noon and afternoon horoscopes were added to his usual morning and evening readings, keeping Timonides busy with his charts and instruments while Ulrika's worried thoughts were upon her mother and their friends—all allies of the assassinated Claudius.

     And now they were nearing their destination, Sebastianus leading the way on his mare with Ulrika riding behind in a private covered wagon.

     Although Rome was a dangerous place now for them, there had been no question of staying away. Ulrika needed to return as quickly as possible to her mother's house, to make sure Selene and her friends were safe. Sebastianus was worried about his villa in Rome and the staff who served him.

     But foremost on his mind was the question of the diploma for China. Would the new emperor even be interested?

     Sebastianus had been able to glean some information along the way about Claudius's successor, a sixteen-year-old youth with the birth name Domitius Ahenobarbus but who, it was rumored, had changed his name upon succession to the rather grandiose Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus. People were saying that young Nero had declared a new era for Rome and that he had ambitions to expand diplomacy and trade. This offered a glimmer of hope for Sebastianus, if he could avoid being arrested for his very loose affiliation with Claudius (Sebastianus had met the deceased emperor only once, and briefly). What he knew he must do was somehow get close to the emperor, who surely was surrounded by an army of guards, tutors, protectors, not to forget his powerful mother, Agrippina, who was also Claudius's widow. Sebastianus needed to let the ambitious young man know of his plans to open a new trade route to China and establish diplomatic connections with foreign nations along the way, expanding the Roman empire beyond even Nero's vision.

     But how to get close enough to Nero to explain all this?

     Riding at Sebastianus's side on a trotting donkey, Timonides was likewise plagued with worry. He thought about the catastrophe that had appeared in his master's stars back in Fort Bonna and continued to shadow his master's daily star-readings. Did the nameless disaster lie just ahead, in the eerily quiet city of Rome? And had he, Timonides the erstwhile honest astrologer, brought it about with his falsified horoscopes? What if the new emperor had Sebastianus executed? What would become of Timonides and Nestor? They had no money, and Timonides was old, Nestor simple-minded. It made his blood run to ice to think of the pair of them in the streets, begging.

     This is all my fault! he lamented in his heart, despising the crowds that they now joined, hating the city walls, angry at Emperor Claudius for getting killed, and furious with himself for having tricked Sebastianus into taking Ulrika with them. By the gods, the crusty old heart of Timonides the astrologer cried. I swear upon all that is holy, upon the very soul of my beloved Damaris, that I will never again falsify a sacred horoscope or blaspheme in the name of the stars! Please, just get me and my son through this dark hour, and I shall serve the gods and the heavens with the utmost honor and respect and will never tell another lie for as long as I live!

     They arrived at the vast terminus and, making sure the caravan was safe and secure, Sebastianus and Ulrika, Timonides and Nestor, and a few slaves and guards, struck off on foot, to join the throng trying to get into the city. With his impressive credentials and merchant-trader's pass, Sebastianus was allowed through the smaller pedestrian gate, where the members of his party were scrutinized and questioned, their travel packs inspected. With an admonition to go straight to their residences and nowhere else, as curfew was strictly enforced during martial law, they were passed through.

     To their surprise, the city was neither in chaos nor disrupted by civil rebellion but eerily quiet as the day died and evening curfew was marked by the blare of trumpets. They reached the Esquiline Hill as the stars were coming out, and as they climbed the cobblestoned lane, Ulrika saw subdued residences behind high walls, and more silence than was usual for a balmy evening. But, to her relief, up ahead and on the left, she saw Aunt Paulina's house illuminated with torches and lamps, and heard voices rising in laughter as music played up into the dusky sky. She saw, beyond Paulina's villa, the house she shared with her mother. It was dark and silent, but that was not unusual, as Selene frequently spent evenings with her best friend, often staying the night at Paulina's. During these hazardous times, until the new emperor calmed everyone's nerves and assured the populace that life was going on as before, it made sense to Ulrika that her mother would seek the safety of Paulina's house.

     Ulrika thanked Sebastianus and assured him that she would be all right.

     He insisted on going inside with her, but Ulrika reminded Sebastianus that he had his own house and people to see to, that he must not waste time.You and I can go no further, she whispered to him in her heart, taking in his handsome countenance, the bronze-colored hair in the torchlight, his height and strength. They had been in each other's company for six months, had shared food and fire, and had slept together in a magical cave. But he was destined to go to far-off China, and Ulrika's path was fated to lead elsewhere.

     Telling himself that he must simply say good-bye and walk away, Sebastianus reached for Ulrika, placing his hands on her arms, and then he stepped close, to look deeply into her eyes. He wanted to swim in that inviting blue, refresh himself in the grotto that was the iris of her eye.

     He bent his head and brushed his lips on her cheek. Ulrika gasped. Her heart rose in her throat. She wanted to turn her head, bring her mouth to his. Instead, tears rose in her eyes and trickled down her face. These, too, Sebastianus kissed—fluttering kisses that felt like butterflies. They made her skin burn and her body cry out for his touch.

     "May the gods be good to you, Ulrika," he murmured against her ear, reluctant to let her go, "and may the stars guide you to happiness. If you ever need me, you have but to send word."

     After saying good-bye to Timonides and Nestor—who cried like a child at having to leave her—and watching them retreat down the steep lane, Ulrika turned to the gate set in the high wall. Finding it locked, she pulled the bell rope, and when a slave answered, she said, "Please tell Lady Paulina that Ulrika is here."

     He wrinkled his nose. "Who's Paulina?"

     Ulrika's eyes widened. "Your mistress, of course." And then, realizing she did not recognize this slave, looked past him and saw people in Paulina's atrium, laughing and drinking. There was not a familiar face among them. "Who's house is this?" she asked.