Alexandria blinked in surprise. “Quick work,” she said. “I thought Sulla's general was living there.”

“He was. I'll have to go to the forum court to keep it, but it will give me a chance to clear Marius's name in this city.”

Her smile disappeared at this reminder of harder times, and she busied her hands with removing an apron, cursing as the knot resisted her fingers. Julius wanted to step forward and help her, but resisted with an effort of will. He had been shocked to feel a surge of the old attraction to her as he came into the shop. It worried him enough to stand well clear until she had finished untying the strings herself.

You are a married man, he told himself firmly, yet he found himself blushing as she looked at him again.

“So why have you come to our humble little shop? I doubt it's just to look me up, Julius.”

“It could be. I was pleased when Tubruk said you had survived. I heard about Metella taking her life.” As he always had with her, he found himself fumbling for words, annoyed by his own lack of fluency.

Alexandria turned to him, her eyes glittering. “I wouldn't have left her if I'd known what she was going to do. Gods, I would have taken her with me to Tabbic's place. She was a victim, as much as the men that bastard Sulla killed on the streets. I'm only sorry he died quickly, so they say. I would have wanted it slow, for him.”

“I haven't forgotten, for all the Senate seems to want to,” Julius agreed, his voice bitter. A look of silent communication passed between them, a memory of those they had lost and an intimacy between them that was fresher than they could have guessed.

“You'll make them pay, Julius? I hate the thought of the gutter filth I saw then still roaming free. Rome's a dirtier place than you can see from the forum, I know.”

“I'll do what I can. I'll start by making them honor Marius, which should stick hard in a few throats,” he replied seriously.

She smiled again at him. “Gods, I am glad to see your face after so long. It brings the past back to me,” she said, and his blush returned, making her chuckle with memory. Her confidence as a freewoman had made her almost unrecognizable, but still he felt that she was someone he could trust simply because she had been part of the old times. The more cynical voice in him suspected he was being hopelessly naive. They had all changed and Brutus should have been enough of a reminder of that already.

“I never thanked you for the money you left with Metella for when I was free,” she said. “I bought a part share in this shop with it. It meant a lot to me.”

He waved her thanks away with his hand. “I wanted to help you,” he replied, shifting his feet.

“Did you come to the shop to see how I'd spent it?”

“No, I know I said I could have come to see you just for friendship, but as it happens…” he began.

“I knew it! You want a pendant for your wife, or a beautiful brooch? I'll make you something special to match her eyes.” Her cheerfulness contrasted his more serious mood, so different from the stumbling boy she'd known.

“No, it's for the trial and after. I want to commission bronze shields to honor Marius; his likeness, his battles, even his death when the city fell. I want them to tell the story of his life.”

Alexandria rubbed a hand over her bound hair, leaving a tiny smudge of gold filings on the edge. The flecks caught the light as she moved, and despite himself, Julius would have liked nothing more than to rub his thumb gently against her skin to remove them. He concentrated, irritated with himself.

She frowned in thought, taking a stylus and wax slate from a shelf.

“They should be large, maybe three feet across to be clear at a distance.”

She began to scratch sketches into the pane of wax, squinting one eye almost closed. Julius watched as she brushed back a loose tendril of hair from her forehead. Tubruk had said she was good and the man's judgment was usually to be trusted.

“The first one should be a likeness. What do you think of this?”

She turned the slate around and Julius relaxed as he saw a face he recognized. The features had something of the strength he remembered, though the simple lines could never be more than an echo of the life that had filled Marius.

“It's him. I didn't know you could do that sort of thing.”

“Tabbic loves to teach. I can make your shields for you, but the metal alone will be expensive. I don't want to bargain with you, Julius, but you are talking about months of work. This is the sort of thing that could make my name in the city.”

“The cost isn't important. I'll trust you to set a fair price, but I'll need them in weeks, not months. The Senate won't let the trial wait for long, with Antonidus raging about his lost house. I need the best you can make as fast as you can produce them.”

“Tabbic?” Alexandria called.

The grizzled metalsmith strolled out from the back room, still holding tools. She explained quickly and Julius smiled as the man's face lit with interest. Finally, he nodded.

“I can take the normal work of the shop, but the brooches on order will have to be put off. Mind you”-he rubbed his chin thoughtfully-“it might raise the price of the ones you've finished, which couldn't hurt. We'll have to hire bigger premises and a much larger forge. Let's see…” He took another slate from the shelf and together the two of them wrote and talked in low voices for a long time while Julius watched in exasperation. Finally they reached agreement and Alexandria turned back to him, the gold in her hair still bright against her skin.

“I'll take the work. The price will depend on how many failures we have to recast. I'll have to discuss which scenes you want when you have a couple of hours free.”

“You know where I am,” he said. “You can always come out there if you need to see me.”

Alexandria fiddled idly with her stylus, suddenly uncomfortable. “I'd prefer it if you came to me,” she said, unwilling to explain how the old estate had tested her strength the last time she'd passed through the gate. Julius understood what she didn't say.

“I'll do that. I might even bring that boy in when I come. Tubruk says he's always talking of you and, er… Tabbic.”

“You must. We both miss him around here. His mother goes when she can, but it must be hard on him to be away from her,” she replied.

“He's a terror around the estate. Tubruk caught him riding my horse in the fields a few days ago.”

“He didn't beat him?” Alexandria asked too quickly.

Julius shook his head, smiling. “He wouldn't. Luckily Renius didn't find the boy, though how he could thrash him with only one hand, I don't know. Tell his mother not to worry about him. He's my blood, I'll look after him.”

“He never had a father, Julius. A boy needs one more than a girl.”

Julius hesitated, not wanting the responsibility. “Between Renius and Tubruk, I daresay he'll grow straight.”

“They are not his blood, Julius,” she replied, holding his gaze until he looked away.

“All right! I'll keep him with me, though I haven't had a moment's peace since coming back to the city. I'll look after him.”

She grinned impishly at him. “‘There is no greater exercise to a man's talents than the upbringing of his son,' ” she quoted.

Julius sighed. “My father used to say that,” he said.

“I know. And he was right. There's no future for that boy running on the streets of this city. None at all. Where would Brutus be if your family hadn't taken him in?”

“I have agreed, Alexandria. You don't need to beat it to death.”

Without warning, she raised her hand to touch the white scar that crossed his forehead. “Let me look at you,” she said, standing closer and whistling softly. “You're lucky to be alive. Is that why your eye is different?”

He shrugged, ready to turn the conversation away. Then the story spilled out of him, the fight on Accipiter, the head wound that took months to heal, the fits that remained with him.