"It was nothing, surely…" I gazed into the murk of boulders and low branches. Amid the fleeting phantoms, I thought I had seen a face, a real face, with eyes that gazed back-eyes that I recognized.

"Father-in-law, what did you see?" "I thought I saw… a man."

' Davus peered into the gloom. "A bandit?"

"No. A man I once knew. But that would be… impossible."

"Who was it?"

"His name was Catilina."

"The rebel? But he lost his head ages ago, when I was a boy."

"Not so long ago-thirteen years." I sighed. "But you're right, Catilina was killed in battle. I saw his head myself… mounted on a spike outside the tent of the general who defeated him."

"Well, then, it couldn't have been Catilina you saw, could it?" There was the slightest quaver of doubt in Davus's voice.

"Of course not. A trick of the light… the shadow of some leaves on a stone… an old man's imagination." I cleared my throat. "Catilina has been much in my thoughts these last few days, as we've drawn closer to Massilia. You see, when he decided to flee from his enemies in Rome, this was where Catilina intended to come-to Massilia, I mean. Massilia is the end of the world-the end of the road for Roman exiles, anyway-a safe port for all the bitter losers and failed schemers who've seen their hopes destroyed in Rome. At Massilia they find a welcome-provided they arrive with enough gold to pay their way in. But not Catilina. In the end, he chose not to flee. He stood his ground and fought. And so he lost his head." I shivered. "I hate this place! All barren rock and stunted trees."

Davus shrugged. "I don't know. I think it's rather pretty." I gave my horse a kick and moved on.

By some magic of the hour, the gloom around us seemed not to deepen but to stay as it was, growing neither lighter nor darker. We had entered a twilight world where phantoms whispered and flitted among the trees.

Behind me, most unnerving of all, Davus whistled, oblivious of the phantoms around us. We were like two sleepers dreaming different dreams.