‘Let them loose,’ ordered Quintus. He glanced at the other slaves. ‘Those too.’

Aurelia’s foul mood crept up on her after Quintus and their father had left. The reason for her ill humour was simple. While her brother went hunting for a bear, she had to help her mother, who was supervising the slaves in the garden outside the villa. This was one of the busiest times of the year, when the plants were shooting up out of the ground. Lovage sat alongside mustard greens, coriander, sorrel, rue and parsley. The vegetables were even more numerous, and provided the family with food for most of the year. There were cucumbers, leeks, cabbages, root vegetables, as well as fennel and brassicas. Onions, a staple of any good recipe, were grown in huge numbers. Garlic, favoured for both its strong flavour and its medicinal properties, was also heavily cultivated.

Aurelia knew that she was being childish. A few weeks earlier, she had enjoyed setting the lines where the herbs and vegetables would grow, showing the slaves where to dig the holes and ensuring that they watered each with just the right amount of water. As usual, she had reserved the job of dropping the tiny seeds into place for herself. It was something she’d done since she was little. Today, with the plants growing well, the main tasks consisted of watering them and pulling any weeds that had sprouted up nearby. Aurelia couldn’t have cared less. As far as she was concerned, the whole garden could fall into rack and ruin. She stood sulkily off to one side, watching her mother direct operations. Even Elira, with whom she got on well, could not persuade her to join in.

Atia ignored her for a while, but eventually she had had enough. ‘Aurelia!’ she called. ‘Come over here.’

With dragging feet, she made her way to her mother’s side.

‘I thought you liked gardening,’ Atia said brightly.

‘I do,’ muttered Aurelia.

‘Why aren’t you helping?’