Julius didn't seem to notice his preoccupation, lost in thought himself.

“Thank the Furies that bastard's dead, Tubruk. I don't know what I'd have done if he'd lived. I suppose I could have written to you to take my family out of the country, but a life in exile would have been the end of me. I can't describe what it felt like to touch my feet on Roman soil again after so long. I hadn't really known the strength of it until I left, you understand?”

“You know I do, lad. I don't know how Cabera can stand to wander as he does. A rootless life is beyond me, but then perhaps we have deeper roots than most, here.”

Julius let his gaze pass over the green-shadowed woods that held so many memories, and his resolve firmed. He would have back what had been taken.

Another thought struck him. “What of Marius's house in the city?”

“It is lost,” Tubruk said without looking at him. “Sold at auction when Sulla was declared Dictator. A great deal of property changed hands by his order. Crassus bought some of it, but for the most part the bidding was a farce, with Sulla's supporters taking the best.”

“Do you know who lives there now?” Julius asked, his voice tight with anger.

Tubruk shrugged. “It was given to Antonidus, Sulla's general, or rather he paid a tiny amount of its worth. They called him Sulla's dog for his loyalty, but he gained a great deal from his master.”

Julius clenched a fist slowly. “That is a problem I can settle today, after the Senate meeting. Does he have many soldiers at his command, this Antonidus?”

Tubruk frowned as he understood, then a smile tugged at his mouth. “A few house guards. He has a nominal rank, which no one has thought to take from him, but he is not linked to a particular legion. You have the men to turn him out if you do it quickly.”

“Then I shall do it quickly,” Julius replied, turning away from the fence and looking back toward the estate. “Will my mother be awake by now?”

“She usually is. She doesn't sleep much these days,” Tubruk replied. “Her illness is the same, but you should know she grows weaker.”

Julius looked with affection on the old gladiator, whose emotions were always closer to the surface than he pretended. “She would be lost without you,” he said.

Tubruk looked away and cleared his throat as they began to walk back to the estate. His continuing duty to Aurelia was not open for discussion, despite the fact that it had been more and more in his thoughts over the previous few months. He thought of her when he looked at Clodia and admitted the affection that had sprung out of nothing to surprise him. Cornelia's nurse was a gentlewoman and she had made it clear that she shared the quiet love he felt for her. Yet there was Aurelia to care for and he knew he could never retire to a small house in the city while there was still that obligation in his life, even if they could buy Clodia free of slavery as she seemed so sure they could. There was little to be gained in worrying about the future, he reflected as they neared the estate. It made a mockery of planning, every time. All they could ever do was be ready for the swift turns and changes it would bring.

Octavian was waiting for them at the gate. Julius looked at him blankly as they drew abreast, pausing in surprise as the small boy bowed deeply to him.

“And who is this?” he said, turning to Tubruk, amazed to see him blushing in embarrassment.

“His name is Octavian, master. I did tell him I would present him to you when there was time, but he has lost his patience yet again, I see.”

Octavian paled slightly at the criticism. It was true that he hadn't been able to wait, but he hadn't disobeyed so much as assumed Tubruk would have changed his mind, which was entirely different, he thought.

“Tubruk is looking after me for my mother,” he said brightly to Julius. “I am learning how to fight with a gladius and ride horses and-”

Tubruk cuffed him gently to stop the recitation, his embarrassment growing. He had meant to explain the situation to Julius, and was mortified to have it thrust on him without a moment to prepare.

“Alexandria brought him,” he said, sending Octavian tottering away with a push in the direction of the stables. “He is a distant relative of yours, from your grandfather's sister. Aurelia seems to like him, but he's still learning his manners.”

“And how to fight with a gladius and ride horses?” Julius asked, enjoying Tubruk's confusion with gentle amusement. Seeing the estate manager flustered was a new experience for him, and he was quite happy to allow it to run for a while.

Tubruk scratched the back of his ear with a grimace and looked after Octavian as the little boy finally took the hint and trotted out of sight.

“That was my idea. He was being hurt by apprentices in the city, and I thought I could show him how to take care of himself. I was going to clear it with you, but…”

Julius cracked with laughter, made worse by Tubruk's stunned expression.

“I've never seen you so nervous before,” Julius said. “I think you have taken a liking to the little puppy?”

Tubruk shrugged, irritated by the change in mood. Typical of Octavian to ignore his orders yet again. Each day seemed to start afresh for him, with his lessons or punishments completely forgotten.

“He has a hardy spirit for a lad so young. He reminds me of you sometimes, now we've cleaned him up a little.”

“I won't question anything you have done in my absence, Tubruk. If your judgment was good enough for my father, it will always be good enough for me. I'll see the lad properly when I return this evening or tomorrow. He was a bit small to be fighting on the backstreets of the city, wasn't he?”

Tubruk nodded, pleased Julius hadn't objected. He wondered if it was the right moment to mention that the boy had his own room in the house and his own pony in the stables. Probably not.

Still smiling, Julius went into the main buildings, and Tubruk was left alone in the yard. A flicker of movement from the stables registered in his vision and he sighed. The boy was spying again, probably worried that his pony would be taken away, the only threat that had any effect on him.

Julius sat silently in his mother's dressing room and watched while a slave applied the oils and paints that went some way toward hiding her wasted condition. The fact that she had allowed him to see her without the aids worried him as much as the actual shock of how thin and ill looking she had become. For so long, he had promised himself that he would reveal his understanding of her sickness and achieve a companionship of sorts from the rubble of his childhood. As the moment had come, he couldn't think how to begin. The woman sitting in front of the mirror was almost a stranger to him. Her cheeks had sunk into darkened hollows that resisted the paints the slave applied, showing through the lighter colors like a shadow of death that hung over her. Her dark eyes were listless and weary and her arms were so pitifully thin it made him wince to look at them.

Aurelia had known him, at least. She had greeted him with tears and a delicate embrace that he returned with infinite care, feeling as if he could break the fragile thing she had become. Even then, she gasped slightly as he held her, and guilt swept over him.

When the slave had packed her materials into an elegantly veneered case and bowed out of the room, Aurelia turned to her son and essayed a smile, though her skin crinkled like parchment under the applications of false colors.

Julius struggled with his emotions. Cabera had said his condition was different from his mother's, and he knew she had never suffered a wound like the one that had nearly killed him. Even so, they had something in common at last, though the gulf seemed unbridgeable.