The Road To Rome

'Cheer up!' Similarly hung over, Sabinus clapped him on the shoulder.

'Why?' Romulus groaned.

'Only another three to go! Think of the food and wine we'll get. And no one to fight for it.'

Romulus grimaced, wishing that the celebrations were already over.

'There'll be women to fuck too!' Sabinus thumped him none too gently. 'I saw you sneak off with that beauty last night.'

An image of his encounter with the brown-ski

Sabinus beamed. 'That's the spirit! Nothing like a hair from the dog that bit you.'

At dawn three days later, Fabiola took Benignus and five other bodyguards and set out for the Capitoline Hill. As she'd hoped, Scaevola and his men were nowhere to be seen. They didn't generally appear near the Lupanar until about midday, the hour when customers began arriving. Mingling with the already heavy crowds, she felt confident of remaining anonymous. The fugitivarius didn't even know she'd left the brothel. Returning there might be a different matter, but they could always leave it until dark. Whatever danger that might pose was of less importance than Fabiola's desire to see Brutus again and to regain his favour.

She deliberately hadn't attended Caesar's first triumph, which celebrated his victories in Gaul. Brutus had played a role in many of the battles there, so he would have been taking part in the procession and therefore unable to speak to her – even if he'd wanted to. Fabiola chose the next triumph, which was to mark Caesar's decisive win over Ptolemy, the teenage Egyptian king. Fabiola had been there for part of it, arriving in Alexandria just after the killing of Pompey by the orders of the king's courtiers. Their effort to curry favour with Caesar had failed in spectacular fashion, as he immediately seized power. His bravado had nearly been his undoing, but yet again Caesar had emerged victorious. Much as she despised him, Fabiola had to admit that his feat had been nothing short of incredible. She'd seen the pressure his troops were under in Alexandria's harbour. Jupiter, grant that Romulus is alive, she prayed, remembering the bloody stories that had reached Rome shortly after she had. Seven hundred legionaries had died that night, and her twin could easily have been among them. She wasn't the only one to risk mortal danger, Fabiola realised. Romulus' fate was out of her hands, though; she'd done her best to find him. If the gods decided to show her favour once more, he would return home one day. Her efforts to find Gemellus had also failed, leaving Caesar as her sole target.

A

Fabiola recognised some of them. During her years with Brutus, she'd met countless members of Rome's military class. Raising the hood of her cloak, she was careful not to look in their direction. Like everyone else, the officers would have heard about their split, and she didn't want anyone warning Brutus of her presence before she got a chance to talk to him. There was little need for her to worry, though. Everyone present was far too excited about Caesar's impending arrival. Military messengers arrived regularly, updating the crowd on his progress through the city. Although it would be more than two hours until he reached the hilltop, all eyes were glued to the spot where the road ended.

Anxiety began creeping over Fabiola as the morning dragged by. Was she making a big mistake? Her unease rose sharply when, with his characteristic flair, Antonius arrived in a British war chariot. As his lictores cleared a large space for him right at the foot of the temple's steps, he idly sca

Before she knew it, another hour had passed. There was still no sign of Brutus, and Fabiola's hopes of seeing him began to wane. Her attention faltered as Benignus began asking questions about various security matters to do with the Lupanar. When she next studied the group of military officers, Brutus was in their midst. Fabiola's heart fluttered at the sight of him. Pleasant-looking rather than handsome, Brutus cut a dash in full ceremonial dress. Amused by something one of the others said, he smiled and laughed, increasing Fabiola's sadness even more. Previously, that's how he'd acted towards her. Maybe Brutus wasn't just a means to an end, she thought. What had she done by carrying on with Antonius?

'Wait here,' she instructed Benignus. Leaving him protesting in her wake, Fabiola moved purposefully through the waiting throng. To her relief, Antonius was nowhere to be seen. Reaching the group of officers, she faltered. Then a dark-haired tribune with a brightly coloured sash around his waist turned to address the man beside him. Seeing Fabiola, his mouth opened. As a rich teenager, he'd been a frequent and enthusiastic client. Her manumission was the only reason that their trysts had stopped.

Fabiola cursed inwardly. This fool could ruin everything. Giving him a withering look, she brushed past to Brutus' side. He was deep in conversation with a comrade and didn't notice her immediately. Fabiola glanced back at the tribune to check he wasn't following her. Thankfully, he wasn't. Trembling, she reached out and tapped Brutus on the shoulder. He didn't respond, so she did it again, harder. 'Brutus.'

Recognising her voice, he turned, surprise and anger already twisting his features. 'What are you doing here?' He lowered his voice. 'Come to fawn over Antonius?'

'No,' she protested.

'Or Caesar?' he said suspiciously. 'He's been asking for you. Wondering where you were. Why would that be?'

'I don't know,' replied Fabiola desperately, the news chilling her to the bone. She wished that she'd told Brutus of her near rape at Caesar's hands three years before. If she mentioned it now of course, he wouldn't believe her. She had to just plough on. 'Can we talk?'