Hedia continued to caress her husband's hand. He glanced halfway toward her, then faced the stage again. He didn't pull away, though he seemed puzzled.

Hedia had never understood why Saxa had married her. Despite his relationship to Latus, they hadn't moved in the same circles. She was as attractive as any woman in Carce, and she was more-talented, one might say-than most highly paid professionals, but that couldn't have been an important factor in his decision.

Hedia made sure that her husband got full value whenever she enticed him into her bed, but she was invariably the instigator. Saxa appeared to enjoy himself, but he was past fifty and couldn't have been much of an athlete-in any fashion-even in the flush of youth.

As best Hedia could tell, Saxa was a sweet man who had chosen to protect a pretty girl who was being bullied. That she was one of the most notorious women in Carce may have had something to do with it as well. Saxa, for all his wealth, had been considered a foolish eccentric when anybody thought of him at all. The husband of the noble Hedia was a subject of interest to both men and women.

Storm clouds painted on flats descended over the stage. A troupe of attractive boys representing the Winds-a placard identified them-danced, while the actor playing Hercules' companion Ithys sang about his leader's battle with Geryon.

According to the song, this was merely a prefiguring of the greater battles which the divine Caesar and his heirs would fight in coming days. Silver foil on the scenery reflected torchlight to mimic lightning, and pairs of stagehands rattled sheets of bronze thunderously between stanzas.

The fellow playing Ithys was well set up. In other circumstances, Hedia might have invited him to perform at-and after-a private dinner some night.