The Road To Rome

Chapter XIV: Sabina

Panicking, Fabiola dodged backwards. Memor's dagger whistled past, coming within a fraction of gutting her. She glanced back at the door. It was too far for her to reach. Where were Benignus and Vettius?

'Prepare yourself for Hades, because that's where you're going,' muttered Memor, his eyes staring madly. 'Like this ugly bitch.' He kicked Docilosa in the belly. She gave a faint groan.

Fabiola could not take her eyes off his blade, which was covered in her servant's blood.

The lanista edged forward, leering. He wasn't watching the floor, wasn't prepared for Docilosa's hand to reach out and grab weakly at his ankle. Memor stumbled. Then his other foot landed in the pool of blood, and he skidded. Losing his balance, he fell awkwardly to one knee. Furious, he stabbed Docilosa a number of times in the back and belly.

Vicana screamed at the top of her voice.

Hating herself, Fabiola retreated to the doorway. An instant later, she was manhandled into the corridor by the two doormen. Bundling into the room like a pair of raging bulls, Benignus and Vettius laid into the lanista with their metal-studded clubs. One of the blows alone would have crushed his skull, and the enraged pair landed more than half a dozen each before Fabiola managed to stop them. 'That's enough,' she screamed. 'Stop it!'

Breathing heavily, and spattered in blood and grey brain matter, they stood back.

'He's dead,' Fabiola shouted, looking down at the smeared mess of hair, flesh and bone fragments that was Memor's head. Tears sprang to her eyes.

Vettius was surprised by her reaction. 'Of course he is.'

'I wanted to grill the bastard about Romulus,' Fabiola sobbed. 'He used to be his owner.'

A rattling breath from Docilosa attracted everyone's attention.

Overcome with remorse, Fabiola dropped to her knees by her servant's side. Docilosa was alive — barely. Fabiola ripped open her dress, cringing at the first bloody, open-lipped entry point she saw. It was small, yet had caused so much damage. Memor's knife thrust had been expert, entering her chest on the left side, just below the breast. Puncturing one lung, it had probably pierced the heart as well. A mortal wound. His other blows would have killed too, albeit more slowly. For now, they just increased the blood loss. Fabiola didn't think that one person could have so much in them. Docilosa's dress was drenched in it, and so was the floor around her. Her eyes were stretched wide, and staring into nothing. Her mouth gasped open and shut like a fish out of water, trying — and failing — to get enough air in.

'I'm sorry.' Fabiola grasped one of Docilosa's reddened hands in both of her own. 'You were right. I should know better.' She looked beseechingly at her servant. 'This is my fault too. If we hadn't argued, you wouldn't have been in the corridor when Vicana screamed.'

A stream of fine bloody bubbles dribbled from Docilosa's lips on to the tile floor.

Fabiola squeezed her hand, praying for a response. Some proof of forgiveness, to give her hope.

There was none.

Docilosa's entire body gave a heaving shudder, and then relaxed.

Fabiola threw herself down to catch her servant's last breath. Then she gave into her grief entirely. Tears ran unchecked down her face, mixing with Docilosa's blood. Fabiola didn't care. The only person who had shown her real friendship and kindness through the worst years of her life was dead. Their unresolved quarrel doubled her feelings of guilt. She would never be able to change that now. Time could not be turned back. Yet Docilosa had tripped Memor; had saved her, even as she died.

Paralysed by her grief, Fabiola lay there, ignoring the doormen's pleas for her to get up. Jovina tried to help too, but to no avail. The old madam soon hurried back to the reception. 'Customers could come in at any time,' she muttered. Fabiola was oblivious to all of this. She wanted to die, longed for the floor to open up and carry them both off to oblivion. Even that thought was tainted by bitterness. Docilosa wouldn't be going where she was headed: Hades. Where else did she deserve? First Sextus had died, and now her blameless servant. No matter how hard Fabiola wished it, though, nothing happened. She thought vaguely of picking up Memor's dagger and using it to open the veins in her wrists. Death wouldn't take long that way. Then there would be no more pain, no more suffering. But she didn't. A short while later, when her nightmare of earlier returned to haunt her, Fabiola knew why.

She had a purpose in life which was greater than her own misery.

Her mother Velvinna had always been vague about her rape, but she'd been insistent that a noble was responsible. While Caesar had never actually raped Fabiola, he had tried to. His words then had, in her mind and heart, proved that he was the man who'd violated her mother. Deep down, however, Fabiola had to admit that this was no more than her strongly held suspicion, building on his strange resemblance to Romulus. Caesar was only one of a thousand possible suspects. Yet he was also similar to the countless noblemen who had paid to use Fabiola's body, plenty of whom had seen the fear and reluctance in her thirteen-year-old eyes and carried on regardless. Fabiola needed someone to blame for that degradation, which had been repeated innumerable times. Her hatred of such men festered within her; punishing a guilty party would give her some ease, and thanks to his assault on her, Caesar fitted the bill perfectly. Telling herself that he was her father helped to focus Fabiola's rage. If she committed suicide, he would escape her vengeance.

Fabiola pushed herself upright.

The doormen gasped.

She looked down at herself. Their reaction wasn't surprising: her dress was saturated in blood. Her hands and arms were also covered in it. 'I look as if I've been stabbed,' said Fabiola.

Benignus made the sign against evil. 'Don't say that,' he muttered.

Vettius helped her to get up. 'No point bringing more bad luck on yourself,' he agreed.

Fabiola grimaced. 'Hard to see how I could do that.'

Neither man answered.

'Best prepare a table in the kitchen,' she said, forcing herself to remain calm. 'We must lay out Docilosa, and clean her up. Put on her best dress. Vicana can get the hot water ready.'

Taking the shivering British girl by one hand, Vettius disappeared.

Benignus pointed at Memor's body. 'What'll we do with this piece of shit?'

'Wrap him up in an old blanket. Then wait until all the customers have gone,' said Fabiola. 'Carry him to the nearest sewer and drop the son of a whore in it. Let the rats feed on him. It's no more than he did for plenty of others. Tomorrow you can visit his second-in-command. I've heard that he's eager for promotion. Now his chance has come. A fat purse should help him forget all about Memor.'

Benignus nodded. He'd done things like this before. A short time after the lanista had entered, Tarquinius heard muffled screaming coming from inside the brothel. Unease filled him, but he could discern nothing of what might be going on. The response of the huge doorman outside was instant, though. Leaving his companions to hold the fort, he dived through the front door, his club at the ready. He was gone for a long time, which aroused Tarquinius' suspicions even more. He watched and listened intently, but the thick walls opposite muffled virtually all sound. He wondered if the screams had been anything to do with the lanista. His senses were telling him nothing, but the haruspex did not panic. Fabiola was unlikely to be in any danger. If a customer turned violent, it was far more likely that one of the prostitutes would get hurt. A quarter of an hour passed, and Tarquinius began to relax. No one had been ejected, which probably meant that the matter had been sorted amicably. Of course there was another, darker possibility, but Tarquinius could detect no hint of bloodshed overhead. That didn't mean that it wasn't happening, of course. Mithras, he prayed. Help me. Keep Fabiola safe.

The silent figure which emerged from the gloom of the alleyway a moment later made him jump. It was a woman. On her own. The haruspex' eyebrows rose in surprise before he took in the newcomer's grey robe. Confusion reigned in his mind. What was a priestess of Orcus doing here, and at this time of night? Although few lowlifes would hinder the passage of someone who served the god of the underworld, the priestess had risked her life to venture out alone.

He watched as she walked straight up to the front door. The four guards there looked quite taken aback by her sudden appearance. Scared too. The young woman said nothing, which disconcerted them further. 'Yes?' one ventured at last.

'I wish to visit my mother,' said the priestess.

Tarquinius pricked his ears. To his knowledge, there were only two women in the brothel old enough to have a child in her mid-twenties. Jovina, and the servant he'd seen previously.

The guard coughed uneasily. 'Who would that be then?'

'Docilosa,' came the reply. 'Fabiola's servant.'

'It's very late for a visit,' he said, glancing at his companions for confirmation.

She wasn't to be put off. 'It's urgent. She may be in danger.'

'Docilosa?' The guard unsuccessfully tried to hide his smirk.

'The god has sent me.'

The priestess's words wiped the smile off his face. Silently he opened the door.

Tarquinius' stomach knotted with worry as he watched her hurry within. Something was going on, but his senses were not picking it up. Fabiola could be in mortal danger for all he knew. What chance had he of gaining entry, though? Clenching his teeth with frustration, the haruspex cast his eyes to the strip of night sky framed by the buildings above. After a few moments, he relaxed a fraction. Blood had been shed inside, but it wasn't Fabiola's. 'What's that?' Fabiola craned her neck and listened.

There was a loud, insistent voice arguing with Jovina. It belonged to a woman.

'One of the prostitutes?' queried the doorman.

'No. None would dare disagree with her.'

'True,' Benignus replied. 'Who then?'

Fabiola moved to the door, which was ajar. 'No, you can't go back there,' she heard Jovina say. 'Come back!' A chill of premonition struck her, and she stepped outside.

Sabina was coming down the corridor. Seeing Fabiola's appearance, her hand rose to her mouth in shock. 'Sweet Jupiter, what's happened?' she asked. 'Where's Mother?'

Fabiola didn't know what to say. This nightmare was going on and on.

'I knew something was wrong!' Sabina ran the last few steps. 'Whose blood is it?'

Fabiola couldn't answer.

'One of your… girls?'

She shook her head in denial.

Sabina's head turned, and she peered in through the open door. For a moment, the young priestess didn't take in what she was seeing. Finally, though, it sank in. 'Mother? Mother?' she screamed in disbelief. She darted in to kneel by Docilosa. Sobs racked her thin frame.

Following, Fabiola laid a hand on her shoulder.

Sabina jerked away as if a snake had bitten her. 'You did this!'

'No,' Fabiola protested. 'It was him.' She indicated Memor's body.

Sabina jumped to her feet. 'You're lying!'

'Why would I harm your mother?' Fabiola cried, aghast. 'I loved her.'

From nowhere, a knife appeared in Sabina's right hand. 'How did such a lowlife get his hands on her then? Mother was a freewoman! She had no right being in a filthy place like this.' Her eyes glittered with malice.

'After Brutus bought her freedom, Docilosa chose to stay with me, and to come here,' Fabiola explained, desperate that Sabina should believe her. 'She just happened to be passing this room when Vicana cried out for help. Her bad luck.'

With a terrible scream of pain, Sabina launched herself at Fabiola. 'Why did I stop the fugitivarius?' she hissed. 'Better to have let him kill you too.'

Sabina was quickly stopped by Benignus, who grabbed her arms from behind. Fabiola stepped forward to snatch the blade, letting it clatter to the floor. 'I'm sorry,' she said.

'Heartless bitch,' spat Sabina. 'It should be you lying there, not my mother.'

'Perhaps,' agreed Fabiola sombrely. 'But it isn't. My time is not today.'

'Maybe not,' snarled the other. 'Your life will not be long, though.'

Fabiola was struck dumb. Sabina sounded like an oracle.

'I curse you to deep unhappiness,' the priestess snarled.

Fabiola's jaw hardened. She could take that. She deserved that.

'Brutus will not stay by you either.' Sabina laughed at Fabiola's surprise. 'Nor will the other you open your legs for so easily.'

Docilosa must have told her about Antonius, thought Fabiola, reeling from shock. How else could she know?

'As for your brother-' Sabina began.

'No,' shouted Fabiola in panic. 'Shut her up,' she ordered Vettius.

At once the doorman placed a meaty hand across Sabina's mouth. She did not try to prevent him, but her eyes still glinted with venom.

Fabiola bent to pick up Sabina's dagger.

The priestess's eyes opened wide.

'I'm not going to kill you, even though that's what you would have done to me,' snapped Fabiola. She didn't want to anger Orcus again. 'I'll even send a messenger to the temple so that you know where Docilosa's grave is.'

Sabina's eyes filled with tears.

'Never come back here. On pain of death,' Fabiola commanded. Then, to Benignus, 'Throw her out.'

He obediently manhandled the priestess out of the room. She didn't fight him.

Still shaken, Fabiola headed straight for the baths. All she wanted to do now was wash off Docilosa's blood, which had formed a thick crust on her skin. She tried to put Sabina's words from her mind, but it was impossible. They hung before her mind's eye, haunting her as she undressed. Not only was poor Docilosa dead, but her own destiny had been revealed — and it was unpleasant. Fabiola cleaned herself mechanically, going through the motions while her mind spun ever faster. By reasoning things through, she eventually managed to calm herself. Who knew if Sabina's prophecy was accurate? Even if it was, the priestess had said nothing about Fabiola failing to kill Caesar. Which meant that her plan could still come to pass. So be it, Fabiola thought, stiffening her resolve. I can succeed. The possibility of always being unhappy and losing Brutus were as nothing compared to achieving her heart's desire. Dying young didn't matter either. Only one thing did.

What would Sabina have said about Romulus if she'd been allowed?

Half of Fabiola wished she'd just let the priestess say her piece and have done.

The other half couldn't bear to think of it.

Fabiola occupied herself by going to the kitchen. One of the tables had been draped with a sheet so that Docilosa's blood-soaked corpse wouldn't lie on bare wood. With Vicana's help, Fabiola arranged it with the feet pointing towards the front door. Sending all the domestic slaves away apart from Vicana, she stripped Docilosa naked and began to wash the blood from her body. She used the opportunity to grill the British girl about what had gone on: it helped to take her mind off what she was doing.

'He was angry even when deciding which of us he'd have,' revealed Vicana. 'Said he liked my fair skin. Yet he still seemed preoccupied.'

'Go on,' Fabiola murmured, rinsing her sponge clean.

'Once the lanista was undressed, I offered him a massage. He didn't want that.' Vicana sighed. 'So I began stroking his prick to get him hard. Nothing happened.'

Fabiola shrugged. It was common for customers to suffer from stage fright, especially if they'd been drinking.

'I took him in my mouth, but it was no good,' Vicana revealed. 'He seemed completely uninterested. Started muttering to himself.'

That engaged Fabiola's interest. Any crumb of information was worth knowing. Memor had owned Romulus for several years. 'Did you hear what he said? Think carefully.'

'I didn't understand,' said Vicana. 'Something about Caesar and the fortune that an Ethiopian bull would cost to replace. How it wasn't his fault that it was dead.'

Had the horned beast died before it could appear in the arena? It wasn't impossible. Fabiola had heard of many wild creatures that died of fright in the cages below the amphitheatre. Why would Memor have cared, though? He had been a lanista, not a bestiarius, she thought, puzzled. It made no sense.

'I asked him if he was all right.' Vicana touched her bottom lip, which was swollen and bloody. 'He shouted that it was my fault and backhanded me across the face.'

'And you cried out.'

'I couldn't help myself,' sobbed Vicana. 'Then suddenly he produced a knife. He wanted to cut me while I pleasured him. That's when I really started screaming.'

Twisted old bastard, thought Fabiola, feeling glad that Memor had never acted in that manner with her. Noticing Vicana's distress, she patted her on the shoulder. 'He's gone now, and you're unharmed.'

Vicana nodded bravely.

'Go on,' said Fabiola. 'Try to get some sleep. I'll finish preparing Docilosa myself.'

The red-headed girl did not protest.

When she was alone, Fabiola sat thinking for some time. What had made Memor so angry? Was it really the death of the Ethiopian bull? She could come up with no reasonable explanation. She would have to ask Brutus later. Now, though, she had to make sure that Docilosa looked her best for her journey to the other side.

It was one of the saddest things Fabiola had ever had to do; it brought up old, painful memories. She did not shy away from the task, however. The tears that welled up in her eyes had been too long held back.

Tenderly Fabiola anointed her servant's body with oil, weeping as she imagined doing the same for her mother. Like so much in a slave's life, that had been denied to her. Velvinna's corpse would have been discarded like so much waste, tossed down a disused mine shaft or left out for the vultures. The thought made Fabiola want to hunt down Gemellus in whatever dark hole he currently resided and kill him — slowly. She made a resolution to have the doormen search him out whenever the opportunity arose. Finding him would be difficult, of course. The bankrupt merchant had been forced to sell his house in the Aventine, which meant that he could be anywhere. I must stay focused, thought Fabiola. Caesar is my main quarry now.

Docilosa's body was still warm. Once the stab wounds had been covered by her best dress, she could have been just sleeping. It was a fanciful pretence, but Fabiola wallowed in it for as long as she could. The proper rituals could not be delayed, however, and eventually she closed Docilosa's eyes and placed a sestertius in her mouth. Without this coin, Docilosa would have nothing to pay Charon, the ferryman.

Her funeral would take place the following night. No eight days of lying in state for Docilosa, the lowly ex-slave, thought Fabiola. There was no point. Who would come to pay their respects, apart from her and Sabina? Yet she was determined that her servant's passage to the other side would be conducted in the proper manner. Professional mourners and musicians would be hired, and a decent tomb purchased. It was the least Fabiola could do for the humble woman who had become her only family. The anger she'd felt towards Docilosa earlier was gone now. In its place was a throbbing grief which physically hurt every fibre of her being.

There was a knock on the door. 'Fabiola?'

She could see by the low level of oil in the nearest lamp that hours must have passed. Business should be done for the night. Would she get no peace? 'Come.'

Vettius shuffled in, looking nervous.

Fabiola tensed. 'What is it?'

'Antonius is here.'

She felt incredibly weary. 'What time is it?'

'The water clock makes it sometime during the Gallicinium watch.'

'Gods, the man is insatiable,' muttered Fabiola. Sex was the very last thing on her mind right now.

'Jovina offered him his choice of girl, but he refused. Says he has to see you. To spend the night.'

Claws of terror ripped at Fabiola again. Jovina was still at the reception! She would interpret Antonius' behaviour in only one way.

Vettius saw her mood. 'Will I send him away? He's definitely the worse for wear.'

She was touched by his loyalty. 'Antonius is the Master of the Horse, Vettius. Drunk or not, he can come in here if he wants to.'

'Of course, Mistress,' he muttered. 'Which room should I take him to?'

'My office,' Fabiola replied, pulling herself together. At least there was no bed there. She could make a pretence of talking to him about business. Jovina might buy it before she ordered her to retire. 'Bring some wine, and then stay outside the door in case I need you.'

He did not enquire further.

A fresh pang of grief struck Fabiola. Laying his hands on Antonius would earn the huge slave a flogging, or even worse, yet both he and Benignus would do it if she asked. Fabiola almost wished that the doormen would argue with her sometimes. Their unquestioning devotion provided her with no feedback on her choices of action, whereas Docilosa had never been shy of making her opinions known. Even if Fabiola chose to disregard her servant's advice, as she had done up till now with Antonius, she had done so with an understanding of the other side of the argument.

Now, though, she was on her own again.

The walk up the corridor felt like several miles. Fabiola paused by the door where Vicana had been entertaining Memor. Benignus was inside, scrubbing the floor clean of blood and tissue. Beside him, the lanista's body was nothing more than a lumpen shape under a blanket. Sensing her presence, Benignus looked up. 'Can we get rid of him yet?'

Fabiola hesitated. She wanted no one to see Memor's corpse being carried out, but who knew how long Antonius would stay? He was stubborn, and persistent. It might be all night, as he'd demanded. If dawn arrived and he was still here, they'd have to keep the body hidden until the next evening. That made up her mind. 'Antonius has called in. Wait around to see what happens. If more than half an hour goes by and you've heard nothing, he'll be with me for a while. It should be safe enough then.'

Benignus nodded.

Flicking her hands through her hair, Fabiola made for the reception. After all that had gone on, she didn't look her best. Right now, however, she didn't care. The sooner she could get rid of Antonius, the better. Then she could get to bed. Even alone, Fabiola doubted that she would get any sleep, but lying down would still be preferable to the charade she was about to perform.

Pausing to ensure that her cleavage wasn't too prominent, she entered.

Antonius was leaning against one of the walls, tracing his fingers over the depiction of a woman sitting astride a man. Jovina sat at her desk, arms folded in clear disapproval. Her gaze met Fabiola's, and immediately slipped away.

Fabiola's heart banged off her ribs. Jovina's body might be frail and weak, but her mind was as sharp as ever. The bitch already suspected something was up. What would she think of Antonius' presence at this time of night, except that she and he were lovers? Worse still, who would the old madam tell? Keeping her face neutral, Fabiola raised an enquiring eyebrow.

'He won't even speak to anyone else,' Jovina muttered. 'Insisted I send all the girls away.'

Antonius suddenly noticed her. 'Fabiola!' he cried, moving away from the support of the wall. His wavering stance showed that his drinking session had continued since he'd left that morning. 'Just been looking at a good position,' he leered. 'Fancy trying it?'

Jovina could scarcely conceal her interest now.

Fabiola bowed, trying to keep things formal. 'Marcus Antonius. It's an honour to have you visit the Lupanar.'

'I should damn well think so,' Antonius slurred. Turning around to pick out his favoured sex act, he nearly fell over. 'Where is it?' He cursed, and then pointed in triumph. 'That's the one I want.'

Fabiola was struggling not to panic. 'I'm sure one of the girls would love to satisfy you in whatever way you please,' she purred, taking his arm.

Antonius looked annoyed. 'What?' He leaned in closer, covering her in a haze of wine fumes. 'I want you on top of me, not one of your whores,' he muttered.

Fabiola shot a look at Jovina, whose face was registering both shock and glee. The emotions vanished at once, but Fabiola had seen them. Her heart sank. Jovina knew, and she couldn't be trusted to keep the information to herself. Giving in to fate, Fabiola led Antonius to her office. 'Tell the doormen to get inside, then lock up and go to bed,' she ordered Jovina. 'I'll see Antonius out later.'

'He's got no guards with him,' Jovina muttered, suspicion twisting her face.

'Do as I say,' Fabiola shot back, not listening.

The old madam obediently scuttled out from behind her desk. It was then that Vettius arrived bearing a bronze tray with a jug of wine and two glasses. Fabiola cursed silently. As if Jovina needed any more proof that she was involved with the Master of the Horse. This time, the madam had enough presence of mind not to react, but Fabiola's mind had just been made up.

Jovina had to die. Tonight.

She baulked for an instant at the ruthlessness of it, but then her fear took over. What choice had she? Brutus could not find out about Antonius, under any circumstances. None of the prostitutes would say a word — they were too scared of her — but Jovina was a different kettle of fish. Despite her sale of the brothel, and her illness, not all of her fight was gone. She would try to use the information as leverage. Fabiola knew it. That couldn't happen.

The doormen wouldn't turn down another dirty job.

A hand grabbed one of Fabiola's breasts, dragging her thoughts back to the present.

First Antonius had to leave. As it turned out, Antonius was incapable of much. Once Fabiola had put a glass of wine in his hand and placed the table between them, he collapsed into a chair and began an incoherent ramble about the latest goings-on in the Senate. Fabiola carefully encouraged him, all the while watching his body language. It wasn't long before Antonius' voice died away, and his head fell on his chest. Fabiola didn't move a muscle. Even when he started to snore, she didn't stir.

Finally, she judged it safe to move. Opening the door, she found Vettius just outside. Benignus was waiting with him. There was no sign of Jovina or any of the guards. Still she didn't register that Brutus had arrived without any protection of his own, something no one in his right mind would do at this hour.

'Safe to move Memor now?' Vettius asked.

'Yes. The fool's asleep.' She took a deep breath. 'There's something else I need you to do.'

They looked at her questioningly.

'Jovina.'

Vettius' brow wrinkled. 'What about her?'

'She's got to go.'

At first, neither man understood. Then they saw how serious Fabiola was, and their jaws dropped in unison. 'Kill her?' Benignus breathed.

Fabiola nodded.

'But she's so old,' he faltered.

'Jovina's a snake in the grass,' Fabiola hissed. 'You both know that. She'll tell Brutus about Antonius.'

They didn't argue any further. Their mistress knew best, and it wasn't as if either cared for Jovina in any way. 'When?' queried Vettius.

'Tonight,' instructed Fabiola. 'Get rid of Memor first, though. Now.'

They hurried off to do her bidding. Fabiola remained by the door to her office, listening for any signs of Antonius wakening. She was pleased to hear only snores.

Soon the doormen reappeared, carrying the bundled-up blanket between them. Fabiola had already slipped the bolts on the front door and pulled it open. 'Be quick,' she urged.

They hurried towards her.

From Fabiola's office came the distinctive sound of a glass breaking on the floor.

Like murderers caught in the act, Vettius and Benignus froze.

'Outside,' whispered Fabiola frantically.

'Fabiola?' Antonius' voice was sleepy but truculent. 'Where in Hades have you gone?'

The pair of slaves had half made it out of the doorway when Antonius emerged, rubbing his reddened eyes. Pushing Vettius outside, Fabiola flashed her most brilliant smile. 'You've woken up,' she trilled. 'I was just going to get a blanket for you.'

Perhaps it was Antonius' military training, or her guilty manner, but all signs of drunkenness dropped away from him. 'Vulcan's prick! Was that a body?'

For once, Fabiola was at a loss for words.

In a heartbeat, Antonius was by her side. Pulling wide the door, he stared at the two doormen who were spotlit by the torches on either side of the entrance. Like most slaves in such a situation, their feet were rooted to the spot. 'What have you got there?' Antonius barked.

There was a pregnant pause.

'Answer me!'

'Nothing, sir,' ventured Benignus. 'An old blanket.'

Antonius whirled around to Fabiola. 'Was someone killed here tonight?'

Fabiola struggled not to break down in front of him. Today was proving to be the worst day of her life. Could things get any worse? 'Yes,' she muttered.

'Who?'

'Nobody. A lowlife who started roughing up one of the girls. He killed my servant as well.' Fabiola's grief over Docilosa surged up, out of control. 'He deserved to die,' she snarled. 'Like anyone who crosses me,' she added in a whisper.

'What did you say?'

Panicking, Fabiola looked away. 'Nothing.'

If Antonius had heard her final words, he chose to ignore them for the moment. 'Whose body is it? Tell me!'

Fabiola quailed at his fierce expression. 'Memor, the lanista.'

Antonius' eyes widened. 'An important man. I see your need for secrecy. So you waited until there was no one about, and then ordered your goons to get rid of the evidence. Clever. Except I saw it.'

Fabiola didn't answer.

Antonius turned back to the doormen. 'Go on, piss off.'

They goggled at him.

He raised a fist. 'Beat it!'

Unable to believe their good luck, the pair hoisted their burden and disappeared into the darkness.

Fabiola exhaled slowly, knowing that the danger wasn't over yet.

Pushing her before him, Antonius shut the door. The bolts slid home with an ominous sound. Straightening, he looked at Fabiola with new respect. 'Quite the siren, aren't you? Who'd have thought it?' he said softly. 'Come too close, and you'll end up shipwrecked. Or dumped in a sewer.' He laughed at his own joke. 'Should I be worried? After all, it's not as if I've never knocked a woman about.'

Fabiola began to feel afraid. Antonius was a big, powerful man. He could kill her with ease, and there was no one about to stop him. She backed away, but he followed and grabbed her by both arms.

'A word in your ear.'

Terrified now, Fabiola bent towards him.

'Before getting any ideas, you should know something. Your little quarrel with Scaevola is no secret to me.' He smiled at her surprise. 'Been wondering why things have quietened down on that front? It's because I told him to back off.'

Fabiola looked at Antonius, dumbstruck. That's why he'd had no guards with him.

'The fugitivarius knows that I'd kill him if he touched a woman I was fucking,' Antonius confided amiably. His expression hardened. 'But if I was tired of her and thought she had ideas far above her station? He'd bite my hand off to be slipped from the leash!'

He did hear what I'd said, thought Fabiola. She could hardly breathe. Mithras, she prayed. Help me. There was no response, and her hopes fell away into a dark abyss from which there was no return. She was unsurprised. This was her punishment for all that she had done. In that instant, Fabiola knew also that she didn't want to die. Not like this.

Antonius took her by the throat and squeezed. His blue eyes glittered cruelly, mocking Fabiola for her weakness. 'Or I could just strangle you myself.'

Choking, she began to lose consciousness.

Abruptly Antonius relaxed his grip, and Fabiola staggered away. Feeling like a mouse injured by a cat, she waited to see what he'd do next.

'I'd rather fuck you,' he ordered. 'Find a bed.'

Numbly, Fabiola led him away.

Docilosa had been right all along. Why hadn't she listened? If she had, her servant would still be alive instead of lying cold on a table in the kitchen.

Antonius groped at Fabiola's crotch, revolting her. Yet she made no effort to stop him.

This was her lot. Seeing the priestess being thrown out of the Lupanar thoroughly confused Tarquinius. The guards looked most unhappy as their huge companion roughly pushed her away from the entrance. They quailed when she cursed the building and all its inhabitants to Hades. The haruspex was perturbed and intrigued by this. Few people would dare to treat one of Orcus' followers in such a manner. For it to happen meant that someone — probably Fabiola, as she was in charge — was extremely confident of herself. Long after the priestess's outline had vanished into the darkness, he sat pondering the significance of what had transpired.

Tarquinius' conclusion came more from his powers of deduction than any sign from the wind or stars. All kinds of scenarios went through his head, but few made any sense. Docilosa wouldn't throw her own daughter out in the middle of the night, especially when she had come with a warning. Neither would Jovina, for fear of her new mistress's reaction. Why would Fabiola do it then? The haruspex dwelt the question for an age, and eventually reasoned that Docilosa had been the woman screaming earlier. Had she been hurt, or even killed? A portent of this might have brought her daughter hurrying over. Arriving too late, the priestess's reaction would have been extreme, prompting Fabiola to have her thrown out.

Had Memor been the violent customer? What had happened to him?

Before there was any chance of finding answers to these questions, Tarquinius' attention was drawn by the noise of footsteps. It sounded as if at least a dozen men were approaching the brothel, but only one man emerged into the arcs of light by the entrance. Weaving from side to side, he drew amused smiles from the guards, who didn't appear to have noticed anything untoward. The newcomer's companions stayed in the darkness, making Tarquinius very uneasy. Who were they? He was careful not to move from his position. Hopefully, they wouldn't notice him.

'Let me in!' demanded the powerfully built man. 'I want to see Fabiola.'

'Marcus Antonius?'

'Who else?' he sneered.

At once the guards opened the portal, allowing the noble to enter.

Tarquinius' interest in what was going on deepened. Fabiola had two lovers then: Decimus Brutus and the Master of the Horse. Given that he hadn't seen Antonius visit the brothel before, the men probably didn't know about each other. That meant Fabiola was playing a very dangerous game. Why? Again he scanned the sky, hoping for some information. Could he have been mistaken in his presumption that his disturbing dream involved his murder of Caelius? Perhaps it had happened tonight?

Tarquinius' hunch became certainty a short time later. The two enormous doormen emerged, carrying a lumpen shape wrapped in a blanket. Fabiola stood by the open door, hurrying them on. Their burden was clearly a human body, and was in all likelihood the man who'd caused someone to scream earlier. Clever, thought the haruspex. Wait until everyone is in bed, and then get rid of the evidence. He was pleased. Fabiola was a woman of some ability.

Tarquinius' opinion of her was strengthened when a bleary-eyed Antonius appeared in the doorway. After challenging the doormen, he had a muffled conversation with Fabiola. Then, to Tarquinius' surprise, he let them go. The door immediately closed, preventing any further insights. Drawing the conclusion that he had been guided to the Lupanar by his dream, the haruspex grinned. The gods wanted to show him that although there was danger in Rome, Fabiola for one was well able to look after herself.

There was no need for him to watch over her so closely.

Tarquinius had no idea how wrong he was.