'It's far more than that,' said Tarquinius quietly.

Uncomprehending, Romulus stared at him.

'Fabiola runs the Lupanar now.'

He could have hugged the haruspex. She was there? His sister was found? 'You're sure?'

'Yes,' Tarquinius replied. 'She's inside too, and the ruffians attacking it won't stop until they've killed her.'

Horror gripped Romulus. 'How do you know?'

'I heard them talking as they came up the street.'

Romulus cursed. If only he'd got there before the heavies. At least he'd have been inside then, and able to defend the brothel. He racked his brains to recall who'd been on the street. He'd seen no one else apart from the thugs, but then Tarquinius was a master at remaining inconspicuous. 'What were you doing there?'

Romulus had never seen the haruspex look sheepish before either. 'Watching over Fabiola.'

'Why?'

Now embarrassment wrestled its way on to Tarquinius' face. 'Trying to make sense of a dream, and to atone for what I did to you.'

Clambering to his feet, Romulus grabbed him in a bear hug. 'Thank you.'

Never one for physical contact, Tarquinius patted him awkwardly. 'This is no time for pleasantries,' he said.

Romulus stepped back. 'How many of the whoresons are there?'

'I counted at least twenty, but there were more arriving.'

At once Romulus thought of his comrades. A dozen veteran legionaries would be the equal of more than twice that number of scum. Then he remembered that his friends were in civilian dress and without their swords. They were probably all drunk by now too. Panic swelled in his chest. 'What should we do?'

'I was going for help,' Tarquinius revealed. 'I know some ex-soldiers who live nearby. Followers of Mithras. They've no love for filth.'

'Bring them as fast as you can,' said Romulus. He beckoned to the urchin. 'Can you take me back to the Lupanar? I'll make it fifteen sestertii.'

The boy bobbed up and down with excitement. 'Of course.'

Tarquinius frowned. 'You're in no fit state to fight.'

'My sister needs me,' Romulus replied fiercely. 'Cerberus himself couldn't stop me from doing what I can.'

The haruspex didn't argue. Shrugging off his cloak, he unslung his double-headed axe. The alleyway's dim light couldn't entirely dampen the shine of its oiled blades. 'Take this.'

'Thank you.' Romulus gripped the well-worn shaft, taking strength from its solidity. If necessary, he could use it as a crutch on the way to the Lupanar.

Standing over Gemellus' body, they looked at each other for a long moment. There was so much they needed to talk about.

'Go,' ordered the haruspex. 'The brothel's walls are thick, but they had ladders too.'

Romulus closed his eyes, imagining the result of the thugs dropping unexpectedly from the roof space. 'The gods grant you speed.' Letting the urchin lead the way, he headed for the Lupanar.

Tarquinius hurried in the opposite direction, hoping against hope that his delay hadn't cost Fabiola dearly.

Chapter XXIII: Reunion

Including herself, Fabiola had sixteen people left who could fight, but only ten of those were hired men. The rest were kitchen slaves, who by now looked terrified. The remainder weren't so badly affected, although Fabiola had no idea how they would fight when it became clear defeat – and death – was imminent. She gave them all a short pep talk, promising more money to the guards, and manumission to the slaves if they fought well. This seemed to lift everyone's spirits. It was all she had time for. The noises from above indicated that Scaevola's thugs were already on the roof. Lifting the red clay tiles and gaining entry wouldn't take long.

Fabiola had her men gather the prostitutes and take them to the courtyard, which was dominated by fruit trees and a fountain. They locked all the rooms as they passed by – anything to slow down their attackers. In the open-aired square, she positioned three gladiators by one exit and the two doormen at the other. A quick head count of the weeping, terrified women revealed that one was missing. Jovina. Before Vettius or Benignus could object, Fabiola darted up the dimly lit corridor. Although she had little love for the old madam, she felt a duty to protect her. She found Jovina by her desk in the reception, grim-faced and with a dagger at the ready.

'Come to the courtyard,' Fabiola cried. 'It's the best place to defend.'

'I'm staying here,' Jovina replied, setting her jaw. Along with her usual jewellery and heavy layer of makeup, she was wearing her finest dress. She looked like a tiny, determined sparrow about to defend its nest. 'This is where I've spent more than half my life, and no sewer rat is going to make me run away.'

'Please,' Fabiola pleaded. 'They'll kill you.'

Jovina laughed knowingly. 'And they won't out there?'

Fabiola had no answer to that.

'Go,' Jovina ordered her, reversing their positions. 'Die with Benignus and Vettius. They're your men – have been since the first day you won them over. Just make sure one of them ends it for you before that brute Scaevola gets too close.'

Fabiola nodded. Bizarrely, tears were brimming in her eyes. 'Perhaps we'll meet again,' she whispered.

'I doubt it,' cackled the old madam, showing more life than she had for months. 'After all I've done, Hades is the only place for me.'

'And me,' replied Fabiola, remembering how she'd slain Pompeia, a prostitute who'd tried to murder her. While her motive had been self-preservation, she had done it in cold blood, just as she had ordered the doormen to kill Jovina. Her decision about that had only been reversed because Antonius made their affair public. Surely that was as bad as anything the old madam might have done? Biting back a sob of guilt, Fabiola lifted a hand in farewell.

Jovina did the same.

As she ran down the passageway, Fabiola could hear voices and the sound of breaking plaster emanating from many rooms. Loud thuds followed as the intruders jumped to the floor, and her pace increased to a sprint. She must not get caught here! Steps moved to the doors on either side and then the handles turned. Finding them locked, those within began to rain kicks and blows upon the flimsy timbers, quickly splintering them apart. Why did we even bother, thought Fabiola. It's only delaying the inevitable. Resignation filled her every pore.

She heard Jovina shout a shrill challenge. Unconsciously, Fabiola slowed down to listen. Scaevola's men laughed contemptuously at the crone, but their attitude soon changed. Screaming at the top of her lungs, Jovina launched herself at the intruders. There was a cry of pain and then the sound of muffled blows carried down the corridor. At once Jovina fell silent. Fabiola closed her eyes. She had heard the sound of swords hacking into flesh before. Go well, she thought. For all her faults, Jovina had possessed a warrior's heart. May the gods reward her courage.

The two doormen reacted with surprise and respect when Fabiola recounted what had happened. 'Who knows, she might have even killed one,' muttered Vettius.

For a while after that, Fabiola wondered if she was wrong about losing the battle. It was easy to defend a narrow corridor in which only one man could attack at a time, and her followers performed heroics to deny the fugitivarius' heavies access to the courtyard. For the loss of only two men – both gladiators – Fabiola's defenders had killed more than a dozen of the enemy. There were so many corpses piled in the passages that the attackers had a job to clamber over them, which made them easy targets.

Scaevola was no fool, however. At length, he pulled back his thugs and barked a succession of orders, which Fabiola could not make out. Then silence fell.

A new fear filled her: that of uncertainty. 'Have they gone?' She looked to Benignus.