‘Unfortunately,’ added Quintus Ligarius, ‘Brutus won’t hear of it and I don’t understand why.’

‘I think it has something to do with Caius Trebonius. I’ve heard that they met last year in Gaul after Caesar had won at Munda. Something happened then, but Trebonius has never wanted to talk about it. At least not with me. Perhaps a mutual pact of non-belligerence, or some other kind of alliance. I’m not sure.’

‘What does Brutus have to do with it?’ asked Cassius Parmensis.

‘That I don’t know. But he refuses to be reasonable about Antony. Not even the old man could convince him, even though he’s always said, “If you don’t kill him as well you’ll regret it!” And maybe the old man’s right.’

‘We’d better go back to the others,’ said Ligarius. ‘We’ve had more than enough time to take a couple of pisses.’

As they walked away, Artemidorus had his heart in his mouth and tears in his eyes from breathing in the urine fumes. He finally let out a sigh of relief. He waited until the footsteps crossed the gravel, then echoed on the pavement of the peristyle, before slipping out of the latrine. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t realize that he’d left his hiding place too soon and had been seen by one of the two men.

Having reached the safety of his study, Artemidorus sat down and took several long breaths, wiping the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his tunic. When he felt calm enough he went to a cabinet from which he took a jar full of salt. He dipped his hand into the white crystals and fished out a small roll of parchment paper on which he’d written a few names. He took his pen and added a few more:

Cassius Parmensis

Quintus Ligarius

Rubrius. .

Caius Trebonius

Petronius. .

He made a note at the side of his list: ‘The one they refer to as the “old man” must be Marcus Tullius Cicero. But he’s never been present. He must not be in on it.’

He sprinkled some ashes on the fresh ink, rolled up the parchment and hid it in the salt jar.

Romae, in aedibus Bruti, a.d. IV Id. Mart., hora quarta

Rome, the home of Brutus, 12 March, nine a.m.

‘Your mother has been out.’

Porcia pronounced this very brief phrase with the tone of one proclaiming a death sentence. Brutus was sitting in his chair with his head between his hands. He was scowling and deep wrinkles were furrowing his brow, as usual of late. He got up slowly and placed both palms on his desktop.

‘What does that mean?’

‘It means that she escaped our watch and left the house.’

‘When?’

‘Yesterday evening, towards sunset.’

‘So where did she go?’ asked Brutus in a monotone.

‘I don’t know. Do you, perhaps?’

‘How could I know? I have other things on my mind.’

‘Tell me that you don’t realize the seriousness of what I’m telling you! Your mother, for years, was Caesar’s mistress!’

‘That’s enough!’ burst out Brutus.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Porcia, bowing her head and softening her tone of voice. ‘But I’m not saying anything you don’t already know. Your mother may have met with Caesar and put him on his guard. Maybe she even told him about the conspiracy!’

‘My mother knows nothing.’

‘Your mother knows everything! Nothing escapes her, not the smallest detail. She has eyes and ears everywhere. By putting her under surveillance all you did was confirm her suspicions.’

‘If what you’re saying was true, the tyrant’s cut-throats would already be at our door.’

‘There’s still time. That may yet happen.’

‘No, it’s impossible. My mother would never betray me.’

Porcia drew close and took one of his hands in hers. ‘Marcus Junius,’ she began, ‘do you really know so little about the heart of a woman? Don’t you know that a woman will stop at nothing to save the man she loves?’

‘Even having her son murdered?’

‘She knows that won’t happen. Why do you think Caesar spared your life after Pharsalus? Why has he always protected you so stubbornly whenever any of his men have demanded your head?’

‘Enough, I said!’ he repeated, furious.

‘For love of your mother. Last night she may have revealed the entire plan to him, asking him to spare you. Caesar would have assented. There’s nothing she could ask for that he wouldn’t give her.’

‘Please, that’s enough now,’ said Brutus again, trying to control his rage.

‘If you insist,’ replied Porcia. ‘But shutting me up won’t change anything. I will now tell you what I know. You are free to act as you feel best.’

Brutus said nothing and Porcia started speaking again.

‘Your mother went out yesterday evening, towards sunset, with her head veiled. She left via the back door of the laundry, sending one of her serving maids to take her place in her chambers. She walked all the way to the Temple of Diana and she remained there for some time, an hour at least. Then she returned to the house, coming in the same way she’d gone out.’

‘How can you say she met Caesar?’

‘Who but him? Why else would she set up such an elaborate ruse? Your mother does not believe in the gods, so she certainly didn’t go to the temple to pray. The only plausible reason for her slipping out like that is that she wanted to see Caesar. And if she did, we are all in serious danger. I am ready to sacrifice myself, you know that. I’m not afraid. But if your plan fails, the republic will remain in the grips of a tyrant for years. Rome will be humiliated and will not be able to rise from the state of degradation she has fallen into. Brutus, forget that she is your mother. Think of her as a potential enemy of the state. I’ll go now and leave you to decide. There’s another person outside who wants to speak with you.’

‘Who is it?’

‘Quintus Ligarius.’

‘Tell him to come in.’

Porcia walked out, leaving behind the slightest hint of lavender, the only outward sign of her femininity.

Quintus Ligarius walked in. ‘Please pardon this intrusion,’ he said before even taking a seat. ‘I was already halfway home when a thought and an image came to me, and I felt I must share them with you.’

‘Go on. I’m listening.’

‘When we were meeting early this morning, Cassius Parmensis and I saw a man leaving the latrine in great haste, a person we’ve often seen here in your home. Your Greek teacher, Artemidorus.’

Brutus gave a wry smile. ‘Everyone needs the latrine now and then.’

‘Yes, but Cassius and I had been speaking in the courtyard and he may have heard something. The latrine door is quite thin.’

‘Were you speaking of something. . important?’

‘We speak of nothing else these days, as you well know.’

Brutus frowned. ‘I understand, but I certainly can’t-’

‘I’m not talking about taking drastic measures, obviously,’ replied Ligarius. ‘But I would increase surveillance until the day we’ve agreed upon, as a precaution. In other words, I would not allow him to leave this house for any reason. Your servants can take care of getting him anything he needs, for the moment.’

Brutus nodded. ‘You’re right. We mustn’t run any further risks.’

‘Any further risks? Why, has something else happened?’ asked Quintus Ligarius in alarm.

‘No, not that I know of,’ lied Brutus.

‘Thank goodness for that. With every passing hour, things are becoming more dangerous for us. I’ll leave you, then. I’ll wait for your signal when the time comes.’

‘I’m seeing Cassius Longinus this afternoon. It seems he has important news. We may need to see each other again soon.’

‘You know where to find me,’ replied Ligarius as he left.

As soon as he had gone, Brutus called in the head servant, a man named Canidius who had always been loyal to his father-in-law and was just as devoted now to his wife, Porcia. Brutus asked him to sit down and said that he had reason to be suspicious of Artemidorus and that the Greek mustn’t be allowed to leave the house for several days. He would inform them when this restriction on the man’s liberty was no longer necessary.