By the time I had dried Julia and dressed her, then dried myself, I felt exhausted but there was to be no peaceful relaxation because when I clutched the wriggling baby under my cloak and gathered up all her accessories I found Helena Justina, my supposedly refined girlfriend, leaning on one of the crooked pillars in the outside portico, rewinding her stole around her shoulders and risking serious assault by actually talking to Rodan and Asiacus.

The ugly pair shifted nervously. They were ill fed, unhealthy specimens, kept on short rations by Smaractus' meanness. He had owned them for years. They were slaves, of course, pallid bruisers in leather skirts and with their arms wrapped in grimy bandages to make them look tough. Smaractus still made a pretense of exercising them at his seedy training barracks, but the place was just a cover and he could never dare risk them in the arena; for one thing, they fought even more dirtily than the Roman crowd liked.

There were no graffiti from lovelorn manicure girls scrawled on the walls of that particular gladiators' barracks, and no gold-laden ladies stopped their litters surreptitiously around the corner while they slipped inside with presents for the hulk of the month. So Rodan and Asiacus must have been startled when they found themselves accosted by Helena Justina, who was well known in these parts as Didius Falco's snooty piece, the girl who had stepped down two ranks to live with me. Most people on the rough side of the Aventine were still trying to fathom where I could have bought the powerful love potion to bewitch her. Sometimes at the dead of night, I woke up in a sweat and wondered that myself.

"So how is the world of gladiating?" she had just asked, quite as calmly as if she were enquiring of a Praetorian friend of her father's how his latest court case was progressing at the Basilica Julia.

It took the clapped-out wrecks a few minutes to interpret her cultured vowels, though not long to compose replies. "It stinks."

"It bloody stinks." From them that was sophisticated repartee.

"Ah!" Helena responded wisely. The fact that she seemed unafraid of them was giving them the jitters. It was not doing much for me. "You both work for Smaractus, don't you?"

She could not yet have seen me lurking in the shadows, anguishing how I could possibly protect her if the rancid pair heaved themselves upright and got lively. They were trouble. They always had been. They had beaten me up several times in the past, trying to make me pay my rent; I had been younger then, and not normally impeded by carrying a baby as I was now.

"He treats us worse than dogs," grumbled Rodan. He was the one with the broken nose. A tenant had hit him in the face with a mallet when Rodan tried to forestall a moonlit flit. Any desperate tenant who had finally glimpsed escape from Smaractus was likely to fight for it fiercely.

"You poor things."

"Still it's better than being an informer!" giggled Asiacus, the rude one with the pustular skin complaint.

"Most things are," Helena smiled.

"What are you doing shacked up with one?" They were bursting with curiosity.

"Falco spun me some fables; you know how he talks. He makes me laugh."

"Oh he's a clown, all right!"

"I like looking after him. Besides, we have a baby now."

"We all thought he was after your money."

"I expect that's it." Maybe by this time Helena had guessed I was listening in. She was an evil tease. "Speaking of money, I suppose Smaractus is hoping to make some out of the Emperor's new project?"

"That big place?"

"Yes, the arena that they are building at the end of the Forum, where Nero had his lake. The Flavian Amphitheater, they are calling it. Won't it provide good opportunities when it opens? I should imagine there will be a big ceremony, probably lasting weeks, with regular gladiatorial shows-and probably animals."

"You're talking real spectacle," replied Asiacus, trying to impress her with size.

"That should be healthy for people in your line."

"Oh Smaractus thinks he'll be rolling-but he'll be lucky!" sneered Asiacus. "They'll be wanting class acts there. Besides, the big operators will have all the contracts well sewn up long before."

"Are they maneuvering already?"

"You bet."

"Will there be a lot of competition?"

"Sharp as knives."

"Who are the big operators?"

"Saturninus, Hanno- not Smaractus. No chance!"

"Still, there should be plenty of profit to go round-or do you think things might turn nasty?"

"Bound to," said Rodan.

"Is that a well-educated guess, or do you know for sure?"

"We know it."

Helena sounded in awe of their inside knowledge: "Has trouble started?"

"Plenty," Rodan said, boasting like a Celtic beer swiller. "It's not so bad among the fighters' lanistae. Supplying men can be fixed without much trouble-though of course they have to be trained," he remembered to say, as if he and his filthy partner were talented experts not simple brutes. "But the word is that there's going to be a huge venatio-as many big cats as the organizers can get hold of, and they are promising thousands. That's got the beast importers shitting bricks."

Helena ignored the obscenity without flinching. "It's going to be a wonderful building, so I suppose they will inaugurate it with appropriately lavish shows. Are the beast importers afraid they cannot meet the demand?"

"More like, each one is afraid the others will meet it and he'll lose out! They all want to make a killing!" Rodan collapsed, laughing hoarsely, overcome by his wit. "Make a killing, see-"

Asiacus put on a show of greater intelligence, bashing Rodan sideways in disgust at the terrible pun. They sprawled over even more of the pavement while Helena politely stepped back to make more room for them.

"So what are the importers up to at the moment?" she asked, still as if she were simply gossiping. "Have you heard any stories?"

"Oh there's plenty of stories! " Asiacus assured her (which meant he had heard absolutely nothing definite).

"Blackening each other's character," suggested Rodan.

"Dirty tricks," added Asiacus.

"Oh you mean like stealing each other's animals?" Helena asked them innocently.

"Well, I bet they would if they thought of it," Rodan decreed. "Most of 'em are too thick to have the idea. Besides," he went on, "nobody's going to tangle with a great big roaring lion, are they?"

"Falco saw something very peculiar today," Helena decided to confess. "He thinks some dirty trick with a lion may have happened."

"That Falco's an idiot."

I decided it was time to step forward and show myself before Helena Justina heard something else a well-brought-up senator's daughter should not be told.

Thirteen

HELENA TOOK THE baby from me demurely while the two heavies sat up and jeered. " Io, Falco! Watch out; Smaractus is looking for you."

They had immediately become perky now that I had appeared to put myself in line for thumping.

"Forget it," I said, giving Helena a glare to keep her in some sort of order. "Smaractus has stopped harassing me. He promised me a year's free rent when I saved his life in the wedding fire."

"Get up to date," chortled Rodan. "The wedding was over a year ago. Smaractus has just realized you owe him for the past two months!"

I sighed.

Helena sent me a look that said she would talk to me at home about which part of our tight budget the money would come from. Since the rent in question was owed for my old apartment, currently occupied by my disreputable friend Petronius, she would reckon he should contribute. His life was such a mess at present, I preferred not to bother him. I winked at Helena, which nowhere near fooled her, then I encouraged her to go ahead and start putting pans on our cooking bench.