having a conversation. It had concerned the capture of animals for the circus, a venture with the potential for huge profit. The twins had been shocked that the merchant could not afford the initial outlay. As poor household slaves, his wealth always seemed immeasurable. ‘That should have cleared his debts,’ she said calmly.
‘Except the vessels sank,’ Corbulo announced. ‘Again.’
‘All of them?’
‘Every last one,’ replied the vilicus grimly. ‘A freak storm.’
Fabiola gasped. ‘Bad luck indeed.’
‘It was more than that. The soothsayers said Neptune himself was angry.’ Corbulo swore violently, then his face coloured as he remembered whom he was speaking to. ‘Sorry, Mistress,’ he muttered.
Fabiola abruptly decided to show her authority in front of the slaves. It was something she had seen Brutus do on a regular basis, ensuring that he was feared as well as respected. ‘Remember who I am!’ she snapped.
Corbulo bowed his neck and waited to be punished. Perhaps his new young mistress was no different to Gemellus.
In fact Fabiola had heard far worse in the Lupanar, but Corbulo had no knowledge of that. She was still learning to give orders, so his response gave her confidence. ‘Continue,’ Fabiola said in a more gentle tone.
The vilicus bobbed his head in gratitude. ‘Gemellus was never one for prophecies, but there was one he mentioned just before those ships were lost.’
Her lip curled. ‘Haruspices tell nothing but lies.’ Hoping for a sign of release from their awful existence, many girls in the brothel spent large amounts of their meagre savings on readings from soothsayers. Fabiola had seen precious few predictions borne out. Those that had come true had been of minor significance, strengthening her determination to rely on no one but herself. And on the god Jupiter, who had finally answered her prayer for freedom.
‘Indeed, Mistress,’ Corbulo agreed. ‘Gemellus said the same himself. But this one was not made by one of the usual shysters hanging around the great temple. It came from a stranger with a gladius , who only agreed to do a reading on sufferance.’ There was a deliberate pause. ‘And virtually all of it came true.’
Her curiosity was aroused. Soothsayers did not carry weapons. ‘Explain,’ she ordered.
‘He predicted that Crassus would leave Rome and never return.’
Fabiola’s eyes widened. It had been common knowledge that the third member of the triumvirate wanted military success to win public approval. Crassus’ choice of the governorship of Syria had been little more than an opportunity to invade Parthia. Yet few could have predicted that his trip abroad would be his last – except a genuine soothsayer. Someone who therefore might have knowledge of Romulus. ‘What else did he say?’ she hissed.
The vilicus swallowed. ‘That a storm at sea would sink the ships, drowning the animals.’
‘Is that all?’
Corbulo’s eyes flickered from side to side. ‘There was one other thing,’ he admitted nervously. ‘Gemellus only mentioned it once, the last time I saw him.’
Fabiola pounced like a hawk on its prey. ‘What was it?’
‘The haruspex told him that one day a man would knock on his door.’
She tensed. Romulus?
‘He seemed haunted by the thought,’ Corbulo finished.
‘Not a gladiator?’
‘No, Mistress.’
Her spirits plunged.
‘A soldier.’
And rose again from the depths.
Confused by her interest, Corbulo glanced at her for approval.
The vilicus got a perfunctory smile instead. Fabiola would give away nothing.
Not a gladiator, she thought triumphantly. A soldier, which is what her brother had become after fleeing Rome. Gemellus knew how much Romulus hated him: the prospect of seeing him again one day would have been terrifying. Now the journey to the temple of Jupiter had two important purposes. If she could find this mysterious soothsayer, she might be able to discover if Romulus was alive. It was a wild hope, but