have that. You are leaving the city; today. Cestus will send a dozen men with you. You need to pack everything you want to keep from here in three carts and prepare to move out. After lunch you will be on the road back to Puteoli. The villa there has many more staff and is a long way from the gangs of Rome. When you get there, Faleria, you will speak to the decurions of the town and hire a large force to ‘work’ the estate. You need a force of at least fifty men at all times to make sure you’re safe.”
Faleria the elder nodded.
“He’s right, daughter. Your father would not have blinked before sending us back to Puteoli.”
Fronto smiled.
“The villa has the added bonus that, being outside the city, you can legally support a large armed force and don’t have to keep your blade sheathed.”
Faleria frowned angrily.
“You and Caesar should just bring the legions back from Gaul and sweep these scum from the streets once and for all.”
Fronto opened his mouth to speak, but the quiet, measured tone of the general cut in from the doorway.
“Be careful what you wish for, my lady. Remember Sulla, the martial law and the proscriptions? Do you really want to see that happen again? Soldiers in the streets, gutters full of blood and fear in the eyes of all? The legions must not enter Rome, or we might as well say farewell to the republic for good.”
She sighed and the general smiled.
“Things will not always be like this. There are still men who care about Rome and her institutions: myself, Pompey and Crassus to name but three. Tomorrow we will meet and decide what must be done to put the city back in order, but Fronto is absolutely right to send you away in the meantime. Pompey has sent my daughter to his country estate already and my nephew-in-law has sent my niece and the children to his estate at Velitrae, though I am not convinced that will be far enough from the city for safety.”
“And I?” Lucilia said quietly. “What is to become of me? Will you send me to the Caecilii, or back to Massilia?”
Fronto shook his head.
“For now, neither. The journey home is too long and unsafe without an escort and I cannot spare the men. Equally, it is far too dangerous for you to stay in the city. Unless you have any objection, mother, I will send Lucilia with you to Puteoli?”
His mother smiled and reached out toward the young lady.
“She would be most welcome, of course.”
“Good. It is for the best, Lucilia. Depending on circumstances, I will hopefully come and join you all soon.”
As silence descended, Caesar stirred from where he leaned against the doorway.
“I have sent word to Pompey and Crassus to arrange a meeting tomorrow, out of the city and somewhere safe, in neutral territory. I would like you to be there, Marcus, along with several others. In the meantime I have a great deal to do and am short on time and assistance. Could I borrow Posco for a few hours?”
Fronto glanced across at his mother and Faleria, who shrugged and nodded.
“Very well, Caesar. I fear we will be mostly catching up on sleep until lunchtime anyway, while the staff sort the house.”
Faleria turned to the general.
“Shall we see you again before we leave, Caesar?”
The general smiled.
“I would consider it an insult if you left without my seeing you off. I shall return by lunchtime and add my own arm to your escort from the city.”
Fronto rolled his eyes.
“Silver-tongued old devil.”
Caesar gave him a sly smile and beckoned to Posco.
“Come, my friend. I have several tasks for you. Firstly a visit to the records of the tabularium in the forum. Do you have a stylus and tablet? You’ll need them…”
As the two men left the room, Fronto walked across to help his mother rise from the couch. Every day she seemed a little older to his tired eyes.
“I think I had better rest a little” she sighed. “The slaves will know what to pack, if the fires have left us much to take.”
Her son smiled at her sadly and Faleria stood and took her mother’s arm as the two walked from the room, leaving him, coated with thick black dust and blood, alone with Lucilia. He looked wearily around at the house with its charred marks, sooty footprints and general disarray. There would be months’ worth of repairs to be done, though it was possible the house would be destroyed entirely this winter while unoccupied. Clearly he would not be staying here now.
“What will you do?”
He glanced round at the young lady who sat on the couch behind him. He had actually forgotten she was there.
“Caesar will arrange somewhere for Priscus, Galronus and myself to stay. Crispus offered us rooms with his family if we needed them.”
“Are you going to kill Clodius?”
Fronto turned and raised an eyebrow.
“I would love nothing more. Caesar is right, though: it cannot be done in the city. The weasel must be forced out of Rome before he can be dealt with. It may be a long job.”
He tapped his lip thoughtfully.
“Though there are other forces abroad that seek his end, and they are not so prey to Rome’s laws and traditions as we. A vengeful spirit follows Clodius and it is possible the man may meet the sunrise one morning lying next to his own head before I ever have the opportunity. For now it is more important to keep those we care about safe than to launch a dangerous war of revenge.”
Lucilia smiled.
“Your sister is more like you than she would like to admit, I think, Marcus. The pair of you argue and fight, spit and fume, but I believe you are closer than most, despite that.”
He sagged.
“Faleria is infuriating, but she is my sister. She is so much like my mother at times that I could almost scream. But then, in fairness, I am truly my father’s son, and that cannot be easy on either of them.”
A silence fell over the room and Fronto was surprised at how comfortable it felt. He suddenly wished he were accompanying them to Puteoli that afternoon.
“I have been unrelenting in my disapproval of you, Lucilia. It has made me a bad host and a bad friend. My apologies have been largely hollow and driven by wine.”
She smiled understandingly.
“Do not underestimate those around you, Marcus. I see nothing in you that I did not already know was there, and what you sometimes see as weaknesses, I can see as strengths. Your sister told me…”
She tailed off, uncertain as to how he would react, but Fronto merely sat back heavily on a couch and sighed.
“I know. She has spent years coming to terms with what happened and I assumed she was still… unhappy about it. She is far stronger than I gave her credit.”
Lucilia smiled sadly.
“What happened to Faleria’s husband was not your fault, Marcus.”
He shook his head vehemently.
“Yes it was. Verginius was killed by my inexperience, lack of ability and reckless attitude. I sent him to his death and I’ll never entirely forgive myself for that. And it was that which killed Carvalia too.”
Lucilia leaned forward.
“Faleria forgave you years ago. When the time comes and you can forgive
