“You say he grants us few favours, yet he put me in the lists to become an augur.”

“That he did. And you have no idea how many favours I had to call in to make that happen. Be grateful for this opportunity, my son.”

“I am, father,” said Lucius, humbly and sincerely.

At the top of the Stairs of Cacus they were afforded a view of the river; even on an overcast, blustery day, the wharves were bustling and the choppy water was crowded with ships. Above the river loomed the Capitoline Hill with its white temples glistening after the recent shower. A solitary sunbeam broke though the ragged clouds overhead and shone brightly on the gilded statue of Hercules.

In Lucius’s short lifetime, he had seen the city of Roma acquire an ever-greater air of prosperity and opulence. Countless shops were filled with goods from all over the world. Ancient temples and monuments had been refurbished, and new, even grander temples had been built. State buildings made of brick had been faced with slabs of travertine and marble. The emperor had once said, “I found Roma built of sun-dried bricks; I will leave her cloaked in marble.” Augustus had made good on the promise.

Lucius had never lived anywhere but in Roma and had never travelled farther than Pompeii. But it seemed to him there could be no other place as exciting and beautiful as Roma. He felt proud that he was about to become truly part of the city, to be given a role to play, to act as a mediator between the gods and the city they had favored more than any other on earth.

Amid the grand houses on the Palatine Hill was an open square planted with grass and surrounded by a low stone wall, known as the Auguratorium. On this very spot, almost eight hundred years before, Romulus performed the augury that established the site of the city. Romulus saw twelve vultures; over on the Aventine Hill, his twin brother Remus spotted only six vultures.