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Romulus thought of Fabiola, and the reason she wanted Caesar dead. Stemming his grief, he took a deep breath. Only moments remained before it was too late. 'Twenty-six years ago, a pretty slave girl was raped by a noble one night near the Forum,' he whispered in Caesar's ear. Checking the dictator's expression, Romulus was satisfied that his words had been heard. He let them sink in for a moment, and then leaned in close for a second time. 'Was it you?' He watched closely to judge Caesar's reaction.

There was none. A moment later, Romulus had to place a dampened fingertip over Caesar's mouth and nostrils to feel any movement of air. The faintest chill on his wet skin told him that there was still some life in the slashed and blood-spattered body beside him. Jupiter, Romulus prayed with all his might. Don't let him die, leaving me ignorant of the truth. He bent over the dictator, willing him to look up once more. Nothing happened. 'Are you my father?' he said, forcing the words out.

Caesar's eyelids jerked open and his body went rigid.

Romulus gazed deep into the other's eyes, and saw the naked truth. 'By all the gods, you did rape my mother,' he breathed, feeling the weight of the revelation come crashing down on his shoulders. Fabiola had been right all along. Looking like Caesar was no coincidence – he was his son.

Where did that leave him? Had his love for Caesar been more than that of a devoted soldier? Romulus didn't know. In his mind, all was confusion. A moment later, he saw that the dictator was dead. Romulus felt an immediate sense of grief, which he tried to reject. How could he feel sad? The bastard had violated his mother. New tears flowed as this old wound was reopened.

'He was not all bad,' said Tarquinius suddenly. 'Granting your manumission proved that.'

Romulus felt the haruspex' hand on his shoulder. The human touch was most welcome. 'Did you know?' he asked.

'I suspected for a long time,' Tarquinius replied. 'More recently, my feelings grew stronger.'

'Why didn't you say?' Romulus cried.

Tarquinius sighed. 'I've harmed you too much before, and I couldn't see the benefit of telling you. Caesar's children will be in danger in the days to come too. In any case, would you have joined Fabiola if you'd known?'

Looking down at Caesar's supine form, Romulus considered his friend's question long and hard. Years of his life had been spent wondering what he'd do if he ever met his father. His ideas had usually involved long torture sessions like those he'd planned for Gemellus. Yet when he'd had the merchant at his mercy, things had seemed very different. 'No,' he said eventually.

'Why not?'

'Rape is a terrible crime, but it doesn't warrant this,' Romulus answered sorrowfully. He touched Caesar's mutilated corpse. 'Taking part in his killing wouldn't bring Mother back either.'

'Unfortunately,' said Fabiola.

He turned to find his sister beside him. They exchanged a wary glance, before Romulus took the plunge. He had to. 'You were right,' he admitted.

Fabiola's face lit up, and she touched his arm. 'He confessed to raping Mother?'

'I asked him,' Romulus revealed, 'and the look in his eyes when he heard the question… he was guilty. I'm sure of it.'

'I knew it,' Fabiola crowed. She looked down at Caesar's bloodied body and laughed. 'The whoreson has paid the price. Praise all the gods!'

Romulus hung his head, feeling guilt that his emotions didn't mirror Fabiola's.

It was as if she sensed his confusion. 'Aren't you glad?'

Romulus didn't know how to answer her. 'Partly,' he muttered at last.

'What more proof do you need?' Fabiola spat. 'Mother to rise from her grave and identify him for you?'

'Of course not,' answered Romulus defensively. 'But it's complicated, sister. He freed me from slavery. If you'd killed him a few years ago, I wouldn't be standing here now.' He imagined someone else as the editor of the games that day. Killing the rhinoceros would have merely delayed his death. 'I ended up as a noxius, you know. But for Caesar, my bones would be lying on the Esquiline Hill.'

Fabiola did not respond.

Mattius came hurtling back from the entrance. 'A crowd is starting to gather,' he announced.

Romulus came alive. 'They'll want blood when they see what's been done. Let's go.'

Leaving Caesar lying beneath the statue of his great rival, they made their way to the entrance. Romulus and Fabiola did not speak. Each was reeling from the enormity of what had happened and the gravity of what lay unsaid between them. Tarquinius' dark eyes were on them both, but he did not interfere. For his lot, Mattius was too young to notice the strained atmosphere.

The guards had also fled in the panic, leaving the unconscious bodies of their companions sprawled by the massive doors. No doubt they and the innocent senators had spread the word that Caesar had been murdered, thought Romulus. His hunch was correct. At the foot of the steps, a large rabble had already gathered. Still too fearful to climb the steps and see for themselves, they were shouting and wailing, egging each other on. Romulus had seen the frenzy of an uncontrolled mob before. It developed rapidly and was terrifying to behold. No one would stop to hear that he had been attempting to save Caesar's life, and even Mattius would not be spared.

'Walk right behind me. Do not look at anyone,' he ordered. 'Tarquinius, you take the rear.' Raising his sword menacingly, Romulus walked down the steps. The others followed.

Members of the crowd soon saw them. Angry shouts rose at once. 'Is it true?' shouted a bearded man in a workman's tunic. 'Has Caesar been murdered?'

'He has,' Romulus replied, still descending.

An inarticulate sound of anger rose from the gathered citizens, and Romulus sensed Fabiola flinch. 'Keep moving,' he hissed.

'Who did it?' shouted the workman.

'A group of senators,' answered Romulus. 'You'll have seen them running off with their clothes covered in blood.'

'I saw some,' yelled a voice.

'So did I!' howled another.

The workman's face twisted with fury. 'Which way did they go?'

'Down there,' came the answering cry.

In an instant, the rabble's attention had switched from Romulus and his companions to a side street which led off towards Pompey's exotic gardens and then the city. 'After them,' bellowed the workman. Responding to his shout, the mass of citizens moved off at speed, with a sea of fists and weapons waving above it.

'Gods help whoever they catch,' said Tarquinius.

Fabiola shuddered, remembering the mob that had swept her away after Clodius Pulcher's murder.

Romulus ignored her obvious distress. Now was not the time to settle their differences either. 'We'll head that way,' he said, pointing at the arena. 'Then we can enter the city by a different gate.'

They had only covered a short distance before a small group of figures emerged from a door in the wall of the amphitheatre. Squinting to make them out, Romulus stiffened. The men were gladiators. Instinctively he increased his pace to get away.

It was pointless. Seeing them, the party broke into a sprint, angling to cut them off from the street towards the city. 'Stop,' Romulus ordered. He and Tarquinius moved protectively in front of Fabiola and Mattius, and they waited. Soon they could make out four fighters: two murmillones and a pair of Thracians. All were helmeted and carrying swords and shields. Who the hell are they? Romulus wondered, wishing he had more than just a gladius. Behind the fighters trotted a man in a fine white toga. It was Decimus Brutus. Romulus shot a glance at Fabiola. She seemed delighted, which pleased him. Fighting four fully armed gladiators was not what he wanted to think about right now.

'I thought it was you, my love,' Brutus cried as he drew near. 'Thanks be to Jupiter you're safe. Where did you go?'