The shouting had stopped, and so had the screaming. Claudia had opened her eyes again, to see that everyone who had surrounded her had fallen back bar this one silhouette framed against the blue sky, a big man, even taller and broader than Aulus. The hair was long, and as he had leant forward, hand outstretched to raise her up, it had turned from silhouetted black to a red-gold colour, but, more than that, the talisman her saviour wore, which had fallen from his bent neck almost to her face, took her eye.

Gold, and as his shadow had cut out the brightness of the sun it allowed her to see that it was shaped like an eagle in flight, with the wings picked out in delicate engraving.

The moment when Claudia’s eyes met those of her husband was a sad one; he looking for the degree of affection he had known before, she unable to give it to him. Yet she felt a tenderness that came to her as a surprise, which meant that most of the words rehearsed for this confrontation remained unsaid. What followed was hurtful, just as much because she chose to lie rather than tell the truth. Aulus, seeing her condition, had struggled to hide his lacerated feelings, yet such was his open nature that he could not succeed. Claudia lacked the heart to wound him further, yet half-suspected that her actions were prompted as much by the fear of what Aulus might do if she told him the truth. At all costs she must protect the child she was carrying.

‘I will not have you speak of disgrace,’ Aulus had said, wiping the tears from his eyes. He knew that to display his emotions was wrong, but so wounded was his heart, so sure was he that he was to blame, that he could not help himself. He wondered why Claudia seemed strangely calm, as if, having practised for this meeting, she had used up all her emotion before he arrived. He could not know of the turmoil that filled her breast, could not know of the strain she was under when she replied in an even tone.