She looked at me warily from beneath her dark brows. "Are you Gordianus?"

"I am. Who are you?"

"My name is Aemilia, the daughter of Titus Aemilius."

I looked expectantly at the door through which she had come. "Where is your chaperone?"

Aemilia looked uncomfortable and lowered her eyes. "I came alone."

"A girl of your age and station, walking about Rome without a companion?"

"I brought bodyguards."

"Even so… Does your father know you're out?"

"My father is away. With Pompey."

"Of course. Your mother?"

"We returned to Rome only a few days ago. We were at our villa on the coast, but Mother says it's probably safer here in Rome now. She's busy today visiting the shops and markets. I was supposed to go with her. I told her I felt unwell and needed to stay at home."

"But instead you came here."

"Yes."

"Are you unwell? You look pale."

She didn't answer, but looked nervously about the garden until her eyes fixed on the Minerva behind me. The sight of the goddess seemed to give her strength. It was Minerva's face she looked at while she spoke, not mine. She probably had little experience addressing a grown man directly.

"I just came from Maecia's house. She told me about you."

"What did Maecia say?"

"That you were looking into…" Her nerve seemed to falter. She lowered her eyes to the ground. "Is this where it happened?"

I took a deep breath. "If you mean the death of Numerius Pompeius, yes, it happened in this garden."

She shuddered and clutched the black cloak to her throat.

"Were you kin to him?" I said.

"No."

"Yet you're dressed in mourning."

She bit her lips, which looked blood red against her pale cheeks. "He was… he and I… we were to marry."

I shook my head. "I didn't know."

"No one did."

"I don't understand."

"No one knew. Pompey had plans for him to marry someone else. But I was the one he chose. Numerius chose me."

From the way she touched herself, one hand unconsciously coming to rest above her belly, I suddenly understood. "I see."

"Do you?" Her face registered a confusion of pride and alarm. "Maecia could tell, too. Is it that obvious?"

I shook my head. "It doesn't show yet, if that's what you mean."

"Not here." She looked down and touched her belly. "But it must show on my face. And why not? I should have been his widow. The baby should have been born with his name. But now…"

"Why did you come here, Aemilia? To see the place where he died?"

She grimaced. "No. I don't like to think about that."

"Then why are you here? What do you want from me?" Her eyes met mine for an instant, then she looked beyond me, to Minerva, as she struggled to put her thoughts into words. I raised my hand. "Never mind. I know already. You want from me what everyone else wants- Pompey, Maecia, even Diana…" I shook my head. "Why was I able to tell at once with you, and yet with my own daughter, I practically had to be struck by lightning before I saw the obvious? And people think Gordianus is so clever, able to see what others don't!"

Aemilia looked at me, mystified. I sighed. "How long have you known?"

"About the baby? I knew before Mother and I left Rome. I wasn't certain, but I knew. Since then, the moon waxed and waned, and waxes again, and now there's no doubt. I can feel it inside me! I know it's too early for that, but I swear I feel it sometimes."

"His child…" I said. Like Aemilia imagining she felt the new life inside her, I seemed to sense another, very different kind of presence in the garden. What stronger lure than his unborn child might serve to call back the lemur of a murdered man to the spot where he was killed? I turned about and gave a start, almost certain I saw a shadow move behind the statue of Minerva. It was only a trick of the light.

"Did he know? Did you tell Numerius?"

She nodded. "The last time I saw him… the day before he died. We had a secret place to meet." She lowered her eyes. "We… afterward… I told him. I was afraid he'd be angry. But he wasn't. He was happy. I'd never seen him so happy. He said, 'Now Pompey will have to give up his plans for me and let us marry. I'll tell him tonight.' The next day Numerius was supposed to meet me again, to tell me what Pompey said, but he never came." She bit her lip. "That was the day everyone thought Caesar was coming, and Pompey decided to leave Rome, and my father decided to send Mother and me to the villa, and we spent the whole night madly packing our things and I didn't sleep at all…"

She took a breath, lifted her eyes, and stared hard at the face of Minerva. "The next morning we were in our wagon, lined up with all the other wagons to leave through the Capena Gate. A friend of Mother's came over. They talked about whether Caesar was really coming, and who was taking sides, and then- it was just another bit of gossip to her- the woman said, 'Did you hear? Numerius Pompeius was murdered yesterday! Strangled…' She said it so quickly, then moved on to something else so fast, I thought I must have imagined it. But I knew I hadn't. I knew it was true. I felt something sharp in my chest, like a jagged stone. I think I must have fainted. The next thing I knew we were out on the Appian Way. For an instant I thought I'd dreamed it, but I knew better. The stone was still in my chest. It hurt to breathe."

"Who else knows about the baby?"

"I kept it from my mother as long as I could. She knew something was wrong, but she thought I was only worried for Father, and upset by all that was going on. But once we started back to Rome, I couldn't keep it from her. She wasn't as angry as I thought she'd be."

"Then your father doesn't know?"

She lowered her face. "Mother says he must never know."

"But how can that be? Even if Pompey leaves Italy and takes your father with him, they may return before you come to term. And when you have the child, someone will talk; someone always does. You can hardly expect-" Then I fell silent, because I understood what she had told me.

"This morning, when I went to see her, I told Maecia everything- about Numerius and me, about the baby. We wept together. She says I mustn't get rid of it. She says it's all that's left of her little boy, her son. But it's not her choice to make. It's not my choice, either. Mother says I must get rid of it."

My mouth was dry. "It's not your mother but your father who has legal power over you and the baby inside you."

"If Father knew, he could put me to death! That would be legal and proper, wouldn't it?"

"Surely he'd never do that! What if he's gone for a year and comes back to find you and the child-"

"He might still get rid of the baby- expose it on a hill outside the city to let it starve or be eaten by jackals. Then he'd put me away somewhere, the way you hide a cracked vessel at the back of a cabinet." She swallowed hard. "No, Mother is right. If Father were here, he'd demand that I get rid of the baby while I can. They may yet be able to find a husband for me, don't you see? Mother says it wouldn't be right, anyway, to bring a child without a father into such a world…"

She began to weep.

I resisted the urge to comfort her. I stiffened my arms and clenched my fists. I glanced over my shoulder, and it seemed to me that Minerva regarded me with a mocking smile. "Aemilia, why have you come to me?"

"I don't know… except that Maecia said you were the last to see him… and that everything depends on you now."

"But Aemilia, there's nothing I can do to help you."

"You can at least find out who killed him- who killed… my baby." She saw the confusion on my face. "Don't you see? If Numerius hadn't been murdered, he would have found a way to marry me. I'm certain of it. I could have had our child! Then, even if Numerius was taken from me, killed in battle or lost at sea, I would have had the baby, and the baby would have had his name. But now… now there'll be no baby. Don't you see? Whoever murdered Numerius might as well have stuck a knife in my womb!"