The soldiers of the Tenth marched away, the noise of their steps fading slowly in the echoing street.

"So this is my grandson," Julius said. The little boy was still half asleep and did not stir as Julius laid a hand gently on his head. "Am I truly welcome here, Julia?" he said softly.

"How could my father not be?" she asked him.

"Because I am at war with your husband and you are caught between us."

She reached out to touch the man who had been absent for all of her childhood and most of her life. He had escaped showing her the normal faults of fathers. She had never seen him beat a dog or fall down drunk or show some petty spite. She knew him only as the general of Gaul, a consul of Rome. It was true that she had hated him with all the passion of a young girl when he first offered her to Pompey as a wife, but the habit of adoration was too strong for that to last. Brutus had brought her into her father's conspiracies for the first time, and it was a heady joy to be valuable to this man. It was too much to put into words and instead she decided to give the only proof of loyalty that she had.

"If your blood did not run true in me, I would have given Brutus away," she whispered into his ear.

Time stood still for Julius as his mind raced. He struggled to remain calm.

"What did he tell you?" he said.

She blushed a little and he could not help the suspicion that came into his thoughts.

"That his betrayal is part of your planning." She saw that he closed his eyes for a moment and misunderstood. "I told no one. I even helped him get another two cohorts from my husband."

She raised her chin with fragile pride that wounded him. He felt the exhaustion of the long march north as if it had been waiting for just such a moment. He swayed slightly as he looked at her, and put out his hand to the wall.

"Good… good," he said absently. "I did not think he would tell you that."

"He trusted me," Julia said. "And I trust you to let my husband live, if it falls to your hand by the end. That is the choice I made, Father. If you win, both of you will survive." She looked at him with pleading eyes and he could not bear to tell her there was no secret agreement with Brutus. It would destroy her. "The pardon at Corfinium was news here for months," she went on. "Can you do less for him?"

With infinite tenderness, Julius took her hand. "Very well. If it is in my gift, he will live."

The temple to Jupiter in Dyrrhachium was very nearly as cold as the streets outside. Julius's breath was a streamer of mist as he entered, his men taking places along the walls with clattering efficiency.

All noise ceased as he walked down the long central aisle toward the great white statue of the god. His sandals clicked and echoed, and at the end he saw the families of the Senate still blinking in the light. They resembled refugees after their hasty summons by armed guards. The benches were packed with them and more sat on the cold marble floor. They fluttered with renewed fear at the sight of the general their men had come to Greece to destroy.

Julius ignored their beady-eyed scrutiny. He halted before the statue of Jupiter and went down briefly onto one knee, bowing his head. It was an effort to concentrate and he had to smother the worry and fear his daughter had caused him. Brutus was a practiced seducer, and it was easy to see how vulnerable she would have been. Yet to involve her in such a way was breathtakingly callous. It was no comfort to know that Julius had given her to Pompey with as little compunction. That was his right as her father. The general who knelt in the lamplight added the information to what he knew of Pompey's forces. Brutus was a little in love with risk and perhaps that could be used. The father and the man were so angry he could barely reason.

"So will you close the doors and have us killed?" a harsh voice came, shattering his reverie.

Julius looked up sharply as he rose, recognizing Cicero's wife, Terentia. She looked like a raven swathed in black, with sharp features and sharper eyes.

Julius forced himself to smile, though the effect caused some of the younger children to start bawling, grating on his ears.

"I am a consul of Rome, madam. I do not make war on women and children," he said coldly. "My honor keeps you safe."

"Are we to be hostages then?" Terentia demanded. Her voice had a particularly shrill note that made Julius wonder what Cicero saw in her.

"For tonight. My men will make you as comfortable as they can in this building."

"What are you planning, Caesar?" Terentia said, narrowing her eyes. "Pompey will never forget this, do you realize that? He will not rest until your armies are butchered."

Julius felt anger surge through him. "Be silent," he snapped, his voice rising in volume. "You know nothing of my business, or Pompey's. Leave your threats for your sisters. My men fight because they love Rome and because they love me. Don't speak of them."

Bitter shame flooded him as he saw the fear in their faces. He was sickened by his own weakness. With a huge effort, he took control, clasping his shaking hands behind his back.

Terentia raised her head in defiance. "So you are one of those men, Caesar," she said, sneering. "You put swords into your enemies and you think it is something wonderful. A butcher might as well sing songs about the pigs he kills each day." One of the other women put a hand on her arm but she shook herself free. "You are here because you chose to be, Caesar, do not forget that! You could have gone back to Gaul with those legions that 'love' you. If you valued their lives, you would have saved them then."

Fear became palpable as the rest froze. Something in Julius's own pale fury made her realize she had gone too far, and she looked away, biting her lip. After a long pause, he spoke with terrible force.

"Men will die, but they give their lives because they understand more than you ever could. We are here to make the future, woman, nothing less. We will not be ruled by kings. For your safety, for our citizens in Spain and Greece and Gaul, we are here to remake the Republic. It's a worthy dream. What makes us different from the tribes of Gaul, or the men of Greece? We eat, we sleep, we trade. But there is more, Terentia. More than comfort and more than gold. More even than family, which must eat at you. You sneer because you cannot see there must be a time when a man looks up from his work and says, 'No. This is too much to bear.' "

Terentia might even then have replied if the women around her had not whispered harshly in warning. She subsided under Julius's glare and would not look at him again.

"If you have sense," Julius went on, "you will tell the Senate that I have only one enemy in Greece and I have offered him exile rather than this conflict. I have shown my honor at Corfinium. Tell them to remember that I am consul by the same citizens who granted their authority. Rome is with me." He looked at their hard faces and shrugged. "Make your personal needs known to my men, within reason. I will be on the walls. I will send word to your husbands and fathers that you are safe and unharmed. That is all."

Without another word, Julius spun on his heel and strode back toward the great doors to the temple. His eyes itched with exhaustion and the thought of collapsing into a soft bed drew him with the force of lust. He knew his battered body would carry him on for a little longer, but then he would run the risk of pushing himself into a fit on this crucial night. He still rode the knife edge and a single slip could cost him the war.

As he reached his guards, the centurion met his eyes for an instant and nodded briefly, proving he had been listening. Julius returned the gesture with a tight smile as he went outside into the cold dark. Dawn was still far away and the stunned city was silent with fear. The invader walked amongst them.