"My name is Octavia. I've been sent to help you with your bath."

Which was no surprise. She'd rather expected someone waiting for her when she went in to take her bath. If Marselius was going to do her the courtesy of letting her bathe alone, he would certainly not leave out things like servants, towels, and scented oil.

"Thank you, Octavia." Gwen ducked under to get the last of the soap out of her hair, then climbed out of the bath. Octavia clapped her hands, and two older girls came in with deliciously warmed towels. When they wrapped her in a robe of fine wool, Gwen felt she had found civilization at last. Eventually the others were dismissed, and Gwen was alone with Octavia.

Who was she? While the others had dried her body and combed her hair, Gwen examined the girl minutely. Octavia looked to be about twelve or thirteen, and was already at least two inches taller than Gwen. With her big bones she'd grow even more. She was red-haired, but apart from that her strong, rather plain features had a lot in common with Marselius's.

And although her manners were impeccable, she spoke to the servants in a voice which made her requests orders to be obeyed. Gwen looked down at the hem of the girl's robe. It was embroidered with an elaborate pattern done in gold thread and what looked like pieces of blue enamel or seashells.

When the others had left, Gwen said, "You're kin to Marselius Caesar, aren't you?"

The girl dropped the towel and blushed as red as her hair. She didn't seem to know which way to look, other than not at Gwen. Finally she said, with an admirable effort to control her voice, "Are you a witch?"

"No. You just look like Marselius, and your gown doesn't look like a servant's clothing."

Octavia looked down at the hem but couldn't blush any brighter. "Grandfather will be angry with me for not changing my gown. It's the sort of thing he never forgets himself. I suppose you learned to notice it too, when you were a soldier."

"I'm not a real soldier," said Gwen. "My husband was. After he was killed they needed someone to read all sorts of books for information about our enemies. I was going to have a baby, so they wanted to help me and gave me the job." Gwen had told that story so often that she almost believed it herself. She smiled. "Don't imagine me in armor and a plumed helmet, waving a sword at the head of my troops."

"If we had your kind of soldier in Rome, I could be one too," said Octavia. "I like to read. In fact, my father says I spend too much time with the books."

Impulsively Gwen hugged the girl. She stiffened but didn't draw away. "I'm sorry. It's just that you sound like me when I was your age. My father said the same thing about me."

Fortunately she'd been able to do other things besides read, and get straight A's, like sell stale bread to chicken farmers and other things which made money. Also, she'd never been short of boyfriends, although none of them stayed around for more than three dates after they realized how much brighter she was. Octavia wasn't going to be able to do much except read her books until she was old enough to be maEried off. That wouldn't be long. Caesar's family must marry, and quickly, to cement alliances…

"Are you a spy?" Gwen asked.

Octavia giggled. "Yes, but it's not what you think." She paused, then said impulsively, "Lady Gwen, if you promise not to tell anybody what I say, I'll tell you why I'm here."

What an offer! Gwen didn't hesitate a moment. "By Yatar Skyfather and Hestia I swear I will never tell anybody what you say except the Lord Rick, and then only if he needs to know. I can't break my oath to him, you see. Is there anything else I should swear by?"

"No." Octavia looked thoughtful. "You must tell me sometime of Yatar, and I'll tell you about Christ." Then she really smiled for the first time. "You see, my father Publius wants to sleep with you. So my grandfather asked me to be in your company a lot. That way my father will be unable to get you alone.

He would be ashamed to ask you to go to bed with him while I was around."

"I should hope so!" said Gwen indignantly. Then she laughed. The idea of this likable twelve-year-old girl as a chaperone to Gwen Tremaine was impossible to take with a straight face. If Octavia only knew how Gwen had lived-Except if it really did save her from having to either refuse Publius or submit to him, there was nothing funny about it. She hadn't heard that Publius was a Don Juan, but she had heard that he was arrogant and hot-tempered. That sort of man often disliked being turned down, enough to make trouble for the woman. Refusing him could be trouble.

And some day Publius would be Caesar, if Rick's plans worked, and they probably would.

Actually, the offer was flattering. Caesar's heir must have his choice of women. And there were advantages to being Caesar's lover… but not on a planet with no contraception except the rhythm method and very little obstetrical knowledge! If she'd wanted a man in her bed, she could have had Caradoc for a husband a year ago. Or Larry Warner, who was kind and gentle and intelligent and a very good partner in managing the University. Or- "How does your father know he would find me attractive?" Gwen asked.

"He saw your arrival. When your party was greeted by my grandfather's officers, my father was among the Guardsmen. He often does that."

"I see." So. Intelligent, if devious. At least Publius knew the value of information. "I'm flattered," she said. "But I'm still really in mourning for my husband. Sometimes it's hard to believe he's dead. You know they never found his body?" Another story she'd told so many times that she had to fight not to believe it herself.

"That must make it worse, doesn't it?"

"Yes." Something could be made of this girl. Caesar's granddaughter. "Have you brothers?" Gwen asked, although she was certain she'd heard- "No. I'm my father's only child. To his great disappointment." She lowered her voice. "He doesn't even have illegitimate children. Not since he was ill-"

Mumps, probably, Gwen thought. "That makes you an important girl." It also removes one chief reason for refusing an offer by Publius. We'll play that one as it lies- "They say I will be. If Grandfather can capture

Rome, then some day my husband will be Caesar." Octavia looked very serious. "I don't think I'll have much to say about who that is, either. Did you choose your husband?"

"Yes. Where I'm from women always choose their own." And it doesn't seem to work any better than arranged marriages, either. "Octavia, you must swear an oath to me, one like I swore to you. You must not talk about anything I tell you, except with your grandfather and your father. Then we can be friends."

"Do I have to tell my father? Grandfather doesn't tell him a lot of things he thinks he should know. I've heard Father cursing about that."

So Marselius did not entirely trust his own son and presumptive heir. That was information worth a good deal-so much so that Gwen almost felt guilty about making friends with the girl. She was so obviously lonely, desperate for intelligent company where she didn't have to hide her talents, that- The next moment Octavia made matters worse.

"I'm glad we're going to be friends, Lady Gwen. It will be a lot easier to keep my father away from you, if you know what I'm doing. I told my grandfather that, but he didn't seem to understand what I was talking about."

"He has a lot on his mind," said Gwen absently. And even when he didn't, Marselius Caesar didn't seem like the sort of man to listen to his granddaughter's complaints.

She needs a friend, Gwen thought. And I can be that to her. Our cause is her cause, and she may some day cOme to see that. And she needs a teacher, someone to tell her of the changes coming to Tran. If-when her grandfather becomes undisputed Caesar, Octavia will hold power enough. Power during The Time, power for two generations after. In Rome, the best organized nation on Tran. I will deceive her as little as I can, but I have no real choice. This opportunity – "By Saints Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, and by Holy Mary, I swear that I shall say nothing of what the Lady Gwen tells me, except to my grandfather Marselius Caesar," said Octavia. "And him only if he asks me."