Caesar got up, put on his military fatigue tunic and followed Silius out, under the perplexed, pensive gaze of his doctor. They walked towards the Domus Publica.

‘Unfortunately we haven’t heard anything further from Publius Sextius. Why are you so worried, if I may ask? You have already got the news you were waiting for. What more do you require from him?’

There was the slightest hint of jealousy in his tone.

‘You’re right, Silius, but I’ve been feeling the need to surround myself with people I trust completely and Publius Sextius is one of them. I want him here, now. When that first message came, I thought he’d be following soon after. It’s strange that he hasn’t arrived yet.’

They had reached the Domus, and Silius led the way to Caesar’s study. There, sitting on a silver tray, was the minuscule cylinder of leather, bearing a seal, that had just been delivered. It had a worn look. Caesar smiled.

Words rang in his mind: ‘Have it back, you villain!’

Obsessively: ‘Have it back, you villain!’

‘Have it back, you villain!’

It was Cato’s voice, ringing in his mind. Cato, who would kill himself at Utica. Caesar’s nightmare, the implacable ghost that haunted him like a Fury. And yet those words had brought to mind a situation more comic than tragic. It had happened twenty years ago, in the Senate. Cato had accused him of colluding with Catiline and his rebels in trying to overthrow the state, and as he was still speaking Caesar received a scroll in a leather case just like the one sitting now on his table. Cato had noticed the slave delivering it and he thundered, ‘Here is your proof! This villain is receiving instructions from his accomplices before our eyes, in this very hall!’

Without batting an eye, Caesar had passed the missive directly to the outraged orator, who, upon opening it, realized it was a torrid letter of love from his sister Servilia, inviting Caesar to come to her house in her husband’s absence. In very explicit terms that left nothing to the imagination. Cato had thrown it at him, shouting, ‘Have it back, you villain!’

When he saw the stupefied expression on Silius’s face, Caesar realized that he had actually pronounced those words out loud.

‘Don’t worry about me,’ he said gently. ‘It’s just my condition. Sometimes the past becomes the present and the present vanishes like a distant memory. I live in uncertainty, Silius. And I still have so much to accomplish. So much needs to be done. But leave me now, please.’

Silius walked away reluctantly.

Caesar broke the seal with the tip of a stylus and opened the case that contained a tiny parchment scroll with a few words written in a hand he knew well. He smiled again and put the message into a drawer, which he locked.

He walked through his bedroom into the dressing room, took off his fatigue tunic and dressed carefully, taking fresh clothing from a chest.

Calpurnia walked in just then. A slanting sunbeam lit up her dark eyes. She was thirty-three but still had the fresh grace of a country girl.

‘What are you doing? Why is no one helping you?’

‘I don’t need help, Calpurnia. I’m used to dressing myself.’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I’m worried. Normal for a statesman, wouldn’t you say?’

Calpurnia looked into his eyes. ‘Are you going out?’

‘Yes, but I’m not going far. I’ll be back for dinner.’

Caesar felt touched by a wave of affection for the woman he had married for reasons of state. She was meant to give him a child and she wanted to do so. He could feel her humble melancholy and it weighed on his heart. Calpurnia had been an excellent wife, above any and all suspicions, as Caesar’s wife should be, and he had grown quite fond of her. Perhaps he even loved her.

‘Who’s going with you?’

‘Silius. Silius will come with me. Tell him to wait for me in the atrium.’

Calpurnia walked off with a sigh.

Caesar finished dressing, adjusted his toga on his shoulder as he was accustomed to wearing it, then walked down the stairs.

‘Where are we going, commander?’ asked Silius.

‘To the Temple of Diana in the Campus Martius. But you stay here at the Domus. Everyone will assume that I’m here as well. If Calpurnia sees you and asks you what you’re doing here, tell her that I changed my mind. It’s a nice walk. It’ll do me good after the massage.’

‘Does this walk have something to do with the message I brought you?’

‘Yes.’

Caesar said nothing else and Silius asked no further questions.

He walked to the temple, immersed in thought. He reached the sanctuary, entered the silent, empty building through a side door and went to sit on a bench set against the perimeter wall to the left of the statue of the goddess. It wasn’t long before the silhouette of a female figure with her head veiled appeared in the entrance. The woman walked straight to the image of Diana: a lovely Greek marble statue that portrayed the goddess in a short tunic, carrying a bow and quiver. The woman placed a few grains of incense in the perfume brazier.

Caesar emerged from the shadows and stood behind a column.

‘Servilia. .’

The woman uncovered her head. She was still stunning, even though she was nearly fifty. Her hips swelled below her high-waisted gown and its low neckline revealed firm, full breasts. Only her face revealed the signs of all the emotions of a troubled life.

‘Who but me?’ she replied. ‘It’s been so long. . I wanted to see you.’

‘Is there something you have to tell me?’

They drew nearer until their faces were so close that their breath mingled.

Servilia hesitated before answering. ‘I wanted to say goodbye, because I didn’t know if I’d see you again. Rumour has it that you’ve drawn up your forces for your expedition to the East. I didn’t know whether I’d see you before you left. You have so many responsibilities. . so many duties, pressing upon you. . so your old friend just wanted to see you, to say farewell.’

Caesar took her hand and stood that way for long moments, as if unwilling to let go. Then he raised his eyes to hers.

‘I’ve stayed away for a long time before and you never felt the need to say goodbye. Why now?’

‘I don’t know. This huge enterprise that you’re taking on, it may keep you away from Rome for many years. Who knows? I’m no longer a young girl. I might not be here when you come back.’

‘Servilia. . why say such a thing? It’s much more likely that something will happen to me than to you. I try to look to the future with serenity, but I’m tormented by such frightful visions. . I feel cold. . and I’m afraid sometimes.’

Servilia drew so close that he could feel her nipples touching his chest.

‘I would like so much to warm you, as I used to do, when you loved me, when you couldn’t stand to be without me, when I was. . your obsession. I’m worried to hear that you’re afraid of leaving for the war. You’ve never felt that way before.’

‘I’m not afraid of leaving. . I’m afraid of not leaving.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Don’t you, truly?’

Servilia dropped her gaze and fell silent. Caesar’s fingers brushed the big black pearl set between her breasts. A fabulously precious gift that he had given her, worn proudly whenever she was in public, like a soldier flaunting his decorations. He had sent it to her the day he married Calpurnia, to let her know that his passion for her was as strong as ever.

‘I want to go, to leave this city. Rome is against me. She is my enemy.’

Servilia’s eyes were bright with the promise of tears.

‘The greater your power, the more you are envied. The greater your courage, the more you are hated. It’s inevitable. You’ve always won through, Caesar. You’ll win through this time as well.’

She brushed his lips with a kiss and walked towards the door.

‘Wait. .’ The word seemed to escape his lips.

Servilia turned.