'I shall repay you somehow. You never know when you'll need to borrow an ox or some bundles of hay. It's the way that country neighbours should help each other, yes?'

‘Yes, indeed.'

'And I trust that you won't instruct your slaves to slip a bit of poison into the feast — that would be too drastic a solution to your troublesome neighbours, eh?'

It was a joke, of course, but in such bad taste that I winced instead of smiling. In Rome I had encountered more cases of poisoning than I cared to remember.

'Come, Gordianus, don't cringe! Seriously, I’ll take the opportunity to have a word with my relations about their uncivil treatment of you.'

'That would be appreciated.'

'Any advice on this year's slate of candidates? Your friend Cicero seems to be having quite a successful year as consul. We bear him no grudge, of course, even though he represented you in the case of Lucius's will You must be proud to have such a friend. As consul, he's turned out better than any of us expected — too bad he can't serve two years in a row. At least last year he kept that wild-eyed madman Catilina out of office. Now Catilina is running again this year, and appears unstoppable, or so says—'

'Please, Claudia — no politics!'

'But of course; you're sick of all that.'

'Quite. I may miss Rome, but I don't miss—'

At that moment I heard a high voice calling from the valley below. It was Diana, sent by her mother to fetch me for the midday meal I watched her step from the library doorway into the herb garden. Her long hair was uncommonly thick and black for a child, glinting almost blue in the sunlight.