She was grateful therefore not to have seen much of Brutus recently; her days at the Lupanar and his long hours at the Senate didn't afford them much free time. On the rare occasions they were together, Brutus had given away nothing. His manner had changed imperceptibly, though, becoming more neutral than Fabiola had ever known. He'd made no physical advances for a while either, and had pleaded exhaustion if she dared to try. This made Fabiola even more nervous. Brutus wasn't one for playing games, yet she had the distinct impression that he was withholding something from her. Why else would he be acting so strangely? Terrified, she had said nothing for days, watching for any sign that he knew but too frightened to bring it up herself. She scuttled to bed first at night and pretended to be asleep when he joined her. On the rare occasions Brutus was home before Fabiola, she waited until the sound of his snoring filled the air before creeping under the sheets.

Tonight was not one of those last instances. Brutus had been gone for the whole day, with no sign of his returning thus far. Her mind awash with sad memories of Docilosa, Fabiola had retired early, hoping to find some relief in sleep. Even this was to be denied her, she thought bitterly. Her favourite methods of lying still, deep breathing and trying to keep her mind blank made no difference. Hours had passed and she was still wide awake.

The familiar thump of the postern gate shutting was therefore most unwelcome. This late, it could only be Brutus returning. Quickly Fabiola rolled on to her side and faced the wall, slowing her respirations to a convincingly slow rate. Some time went by before Brutus appeared, leading her to suppose that he might have work to finish. It wasn't uncommon for him to spend several hours poring over documents in his office. Good, she thought. He'll be too tired to talk.

The instant she heard him fumble with the door latch, Fabiola knew that her presumption was incorrect. A loud curse was followed by a belch, confirming her suspicions. Brutus had been drinking. That in itself was unusual, for he was a temperate man. Panic flooded Fabiola's every pore, forcing a cold sweat on to her forehead. She barely had time to wipe it away and resume her position before Brutus entered the room. Jupiter and Mithras above, she prayed silently. Just let him fall on the bed and pass out. Please.

She had no such luck. There was a prolonged pause during which Fabiola heard Brutus breathing heavily and muttering to himself. Then he came around to her side to see if she was awake. Fabiola kept her eyes firmly shut, and after a few heart-stopping moments, he weaved away again. Next he sat down on the bed with a groan. Making no attempt to remove his caligae and his clothes, he remained in the same position for an age. Fabiola dared do nothing other than continue her pretence of being dead to the world. Soon she judged that nearly a quarter of an hour had passed. He must have fallen asleep, she thought.

'Fabiola?'

Somehow Fabiola managed not to react. What's he been doing, she wondered in alarm. Sitting there watching me?

'Fabiola.' His voice was louder this time.

Let him want sex, Jupiter, Fabiola pleaded. I beg you.

He leaned over and grabbed her shoulder. 'Wake up.'

'Huh?' she mumbled. 'Brutus?' She rolled over and looked up at him in the sleepy kittenish manner she knew he loved. He didn't return her smile, and Fabiola's heart sank. She didn't give up, though. 'Come here,' she murmured, reaching out both her arms.

He pulled away. 'Why did you do it?'

It was possible that Brutus was talking of something else, Fabiola told herself. 'What, my love?' she asked, putting all her effort into sounding confused.

He scowled with fury. 'Don't play it coy with me.'

Shame filled Fabiola and she looked down, afraid to say a word.

'I could live with the infidelity,' he spat. 'You're only human after all, and I haven't been around much. But with that fucking creature? I can't abide Antonius. You know that.'

Although Fabiola's eyes had filled with tears, she dragged her gaze up to his. 'I'm sorry,' she whispered.

'So it's true?'

She nodded miserably. 'I didn't mean to hurt you, though.'

'Really?' His lip curled. 'Imagine how I felt when he boasted of your exploits together to my face then. In front of a dozen others!' His wine-flushed face twisted with embarrassment and pain. 'I've ignored the street gossip as malicious rumour until now, but there's not much to say when the Master of the Horse reveals in public that he's cuckolding you.'

Finally a sob escaped Fabiola's lips. 'I'm so sorry, Brutus,' she cried. 'Please forgive me.'

He gave her a contemptuous look. 'So you can do it again the instant my back is turned?'

'Of course not,' she protested. 'I wouldn't do that.'

His response was instant. 'Once a whore, always a whore.'

Fabiola flushed and hung her head. Inside, she cursed her reckless behaviour with Antonius. All her plans for the future were about to be washed away. Without Brutus' backing, she was a complete nobody. If he wanted, he could easily wrest the ownership of the Lupanar from her, and reclaim what was left of his money.

Brutus read her fear and scorn filled his eyes. 'You can keep the damn brothel. The cash too. I don't want it.'

Fabiola gave him a grateful look. 'I'll gather my things. Leave at dawn,' she said.

'Fine. Do not return. I don't ever want to see you again.' Climbing unsteadily to his feet, Brutus lurched from the room. He didn't look back.

In the depths of despair, Fabiola sank down on to the bed.

What had she done? Thankfully the information given Tarquinius about Caecilius, the owner of the latifundium, was correct. Posing as a merchant who'd grown up in the area, he was welcomed into the villa's warm kitchen by the friendly major-domo, also a veteran. Over a plate of food and a cup of acetum, the haruspex was able to confirm that his father and mother were both dead – Sergius before Caecilius had even bought the place, and Fulvia two years later.

'Relations of yours?' asked the major-domo.

Tarquinius made an indifferent gesture. 'An aunt and uncle.'

Draining his beaker, the other wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 'Fulvia wasn't up to much by the end. Poor old creature. Some would throw such a person out on their ear, but Caecilius isn't like that. "She's worked here for long enough," he said. "It's not as if she eats much either."'

'He has my thanks,' said Tarquinius, genuinely touched. 'I would like to pay my respects.'

'He should be back by this evening,' said the major-domo. 'You can tell him over dinner.'

'Excellent,' Tarquinius smiled. 'Does anyone know where my relations are buried?' he asked casually. 'It would be good to visit their graves.'

The major-domo thought for a moment. 'The vilicus would be the best one to ask,' he said. 'He's been here the best part of thirty years.'

Tarquinius hid his surprise.

'Dexter's his name,' said the other. 'Another ex-soldier. Half the man he was, according to most, but still able to keep the slaves in line. You'll find him in the yard or the fields around the house.'

Murmuring his thanks, the haruspex went in search of Dexter: the man who'd warned him about Caelius' plans for Olenus. He found the vilicus hobbling up and down the edge of a large field, shouting orders at the slaves who were picking weeds from the hand-high winter wheat. He was still an imposing figure. The injuries that he'd picked up in the legions were slowing him down, but his back was straight and his eyes were bright.

Tarquinius could tell that he was being sized up from the instant he had come into view. He didn't care. His only crime in vanishing had been to break the terms of his indentured labour. Scarcely something to be concerned about half a lifetime later. 'Greetings,' he said. 'The major-domo said I'd find you out here.'