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accession to power. Whatever her opinion, Jovina was careful to shower praise on Brutus’ general. ‘Rumour has it that he is trapped in Alexandria,’ she said at last. ‘That cannot be true, surely?’
    ‘It is. He and his men are badly outnumbered by the Egyptians,’ Fabiola answered. ‘Brutus and I escaped with great difficulty.’
    Jovina gasped. ‘Caesar is such a canny general. What has happened?’
    Fabiola wasn’t going to go into the details. Caesar’s rapid pursuit of Pompey after the battle of Pharsalus, with only a small part of his army,was characteristic of the man. The tactic – moving so fast that an enemy was unprepared – normally worked well. This time, it hadn’t. The Egyptians’ reaction to his presence had been violent, causing him no end of problems. ‘Help was already on the way from Pergamum and Judaea when we left,’ she revealed. ‘And Marcus Antonius despatched a legion from Ostia yesterday. The blockade will soon be lifted.’
    ‘Jupiter be thanked,’ said Jovina, raising her glass. ‘Fortuna too.’
    ‘Indeed,’ replied Fabiola, dark thoughts of revenge filling her mind. When he has won the civil war, Caesar will return to Rome, where I’ll be waiting.
    The noise of sandals slapping down the corridor preceded the arrival of Vettius and Benignus. Both hulks were beaming. ‘Fabiola!’ cried Benignus. He rushed to clutch at the hem of her dress like a supplicant to a queen.
    Jovina made a show of pleasure, but beneath it she was clearly displeased.
    ‘Get up,’ Fabiola ordered fondly, taking hold of Benignus’ arms. ‘It’s wonderful to see you.’ Noticing that the thick gold bands which had encircled his wrists were gone, she frowned. Only their outline remained, yet they had been Benignus’ prize possessions. Jovina must indeed be in dire straits.
    Oblivious, the madam was fussing and bothering over a document on her desk. Sealing it with wax, she handed it to Benignus. ‘You know where to take this,’ she said.
    He looked a bit confused. ‘The usual moneylenders? By the Forum?’
    ‘Yes, of course,’ snapped Jovina, waving her arms. ‘Get moving.’
    Bobbing his head, Benignus headed for the door. He threw a grin at Fabiola, which she returned, and was gone. Vettius followed him, resuming his post on the street. Sextus moved to stand just inside the entrance, from where he could keep a watchful eye on the goings-on.
    Fabiola’s mind was racing. Jovina clearly didn’t like her hearing that Benignus was visiting a moneylender on her behalf. Her crazy idea suddenly seemed possible. ‘How’s business?’ she enquired brightly.
    At once Jovina’s expression became cagey. ‘Good as ever,’ she replied. Another heavy bout of coughing shook her tiny frame, increasing Fabiola’s suspicions. ‘Why do you ask?’ Jovina wheezed eventually.
    Fabiola looked sympathetic. ‘Running this place on your own must be such hard work,’ she murmured. ‘You look wrung out.’
    The madam forced a smile, but the decaying teeth and reddened gums it revealed provided little in the way of reassurance. ‘I’m fine,’ she muttered. ‘Although trade is a little slack.’
    Sensing a chink in the other’s armour, Fabiola stepped closer. ‘Really?’
    Jovina’s face sagged. ‘Very poor, in fact,’ she admitted, allowing Fabiola to help her sit down. ‘About a year ago, a new brothel opened up three streets over. The madam is young and beautiful. And her business partner is bad news.’ Bitterness twisted Jovina’s lined, painted face. ‘They’ve got good contacts at the slave market too. Get the best-lookers before they even go on sale. I haven’t been able to buy a decent replacement in months. How can anyone compete with that? It’s a vicious circle; with the usual wear and tear, I’m down to twenty girls.’
    Fabiola was all solicitousness. ‘What about Benignus and Vettius? They’re well capable of roughing someone up.’
    A spark of life reappeared in