"It is just a step," he said to himself as he crossed the line of the walls.

Servilia was there at the old house of Marius when Julius arrived, sweating and dusty from his ride through the sweltering city. She looked fresh in comparison, but in the bright light of day, her age was ever more visible. She had always been a woman for the evening. He busied himself with the saddle for a moment while he collected his thoughts, unwilling to launch straight into another difficult discussion. The crowds of Rome were far easier to handle than Servilia, he thought.

A slave brought him a cup of iced apple juice and Julius emptied it as he walked into the rooms where she waited. Water could be heard from the fountain in the courtyard and the inner rooms were arranged as squares around an open center so that the scent of plants and flowers was always in the air. It was a beautiful home and it was rare now that he imagined the voice of Marius echoing through it.

"Consul once again," he said to her.

Her eyes softened for an instant, touched by his pride. There had been precious little softness from her since the night Brutus had left. At first, Julius had thought she felt guilt for her son's betrayal, but he should have known better.

"Your wife will be pleased, Caesar," Servilia said.

Julius sighed and saw her eyes flash with anger. He went to her and took her in his arms. "But I came here to you, Servilia, as I said I would. Pompeia is at the estate to give me an heir. Nothing more than that. We have discussed this enough, don't you think? The granddaughter of Cornelius Sulla is the best match I could have found to give me a son. He will have the blood of two noble families running through him. One day, the boy will lead Rome after me."

Servilia shrugged and he knew the hasty marriage still festered within her.

"You were the one who warned me first that I would want a son, Servilia," he reminded.

She snorted. "I know that, but I also know the part men think with. You are not a breeding bull, Julius, for all your boasting. Oh yes, I've heard your drunken soldiers talk about your stamina. What a joy it was to hear how many times you plowed her in a single night."

Julius whooped with laughter. "You cannot hold me responsible for my soldiers!" he said. "You should know better than to listen to such things." He took her by the shoulders, his amusement obvious. "I am here; does that tell you nothing? Pompeia will be mother to my children, that is all. I will not tell you there is no pleasure in fathering them. The girl is extremely well-proportioned-"

Servilia pushed him away.

"I have seen her," she said. "Pompeia is beautiful. She is also witless, which I suspect you missed while you were gazing at her breasts."

"I wanted health and strength, Servilia. As the breeding bull, I will provide the wit for my children."

"You are a goat, at least," she said, and he laughed again.

"A goat who is consul for the second time, Servilia. A goat who will rule."

His humor was infectious and she could not resist him. Gently, she slapped his face to interrupt his mood.

"All men are fools around women, Julius. If you leave her out in that estate for too long without you, there will be trouble."

"Nonsense, she will pine for me. After a touch of Caesar in the night, all women-"

She slapped him again, with a little more force. "You chose for beauty and children, but keep a close eye on that one. She is far too pretty to be left alone."

"I will keep her away from the young men of Rome, of course. Now, enough of this, Servilia. As consul, I demand food and the best wine from the cellar. I have to go to Ostia later to see the new keels and I'm up at dawn tomorrow to take the auspices with Mark Antony. It will be a good year for Rome, I can feel it. There will be lightning tomorrow as the earnest priests look for signs."

Servilia sighed. "And if there isn't?"

"Domitius will come and report he has seen some. That has always worked in the past. The priests won't argue. We will have a year of good fortune, regardless."

He stepped away from her and she ached to be held as strongly again. For all his laughing dismissal of his new wife, he had not shared Servilia's bed for some weeks and the last time was almost a requiem for the closeness she remembered. There had been little hunger in him then; not for her. She swallowed her pride in his presence, but the marriage had hurt.

Yet he was with her, as he said, and his wife was out of the city with no one but slaves for company. Servilia had seen passion become friendship before. She knew she should be easing into that state, as she had once done with Crassus. But the slightest touch from Julius or a kiss would make her remember riding together in Spain and sitting at the feet of Alexander's statue in the first glow of new love. It was too painful.

A slave entered and bowed to Julius before speaking. "Master, there are visitors at the gate," he said.

"Excellent," Julius replied, turning to Servilia. "I asked Domitius, Octavian, and Ciro to bring their promotion lists to me." He seemed uncomfortable for a moment and the amusement faded from his face. "We have had to make changes since Brutus left for Greece. Will you sit in on the discussion?"

"No, you don't need me here," Servilia replied, raising her chin. Had she been summoned only to be ignored? Even for a leader of Rome, Julius was capable of the most appalling breaches of courtesy. It was more than possible that he thought the brief exchange was enough to fulfill his obligations to her. She folded her arms with slow care, and he looked at her then, seeing the irritation. His eyes lost their distracted blankness and she could almost feel the full force of his attention.

"I should have kept the afternoon for you," he said, taking her hands. "Shall I send them away, Servilia? We could take horses out to the racetrack, or sit by the Tiber and enjoy the sun. I could teach you to swim."

It was an effort not to fall under the charm of the man. Despite all that had happened between them, Servilia could still feel the glamour he cast.

"I can already swim, Julius. No, you see your men and go to Ostia. Perhaps you will still have a chance to visit your young wife tonight."

He winced at that, but they could both hear the clatter of his officers as they came into the main house. His time for her was coming to an end.

"If there were two of me, it would not be enough for all I have to do," he said.

"If there were two of you, you would kill each other," she retorted as Domitius came into the room. He beamed at seeing Servilia and she acknowledged him with a smile before excusing herself. In a moment, only her fragrance remained in the air and Julius was busy welcoming the others and calling impatiently for food and drink.

In her own house, Servilia relaxed, the soft footsteps of her slaves hardly interrupting her thoughts.

"Mistress? The man you wanted is here," her slave announced.

Servilia rose from her couch, her gold bracelets chiming gently in the silence. The slave retired quickly and Servilia regarded the man she had summoned with careful interest. He was not richly dressed, though she knew he could mimic any one of the classes of Rome if he chose to.

"I have another task for you, Belas," she said.

He bowed his head in response and she saw that he had grown bald on the crown. She remembered when he had worn his hair down to his shoulders in heavy blond locks, and she grimaced at the unfairness of it. Age touched them all.

"I am playing Dionysus for three more days," he said without preamble. "The performance has been described as sublime by those who know the theater. After that, my time is yours."

She smiled at him and saw to her pleasure that he was still a little in love with her. It may have been that he saw her through a gauze of memory, but he had always been faithful in his adoration.