‘Would that you had come alone,’ Lucius said, warming his hands at the brazier before finally raising his deep brown eyes to engage those of his visitor.

‘I didn’t see the need, your honour.’

The eyes closed and the body tensed as Lucius tried to control his anger, the effort making his slender frame shake slightly. Normally the most controlled of men he was surprised at this reaction, even more alarmed at the thought that he was actually nervous.

‘It is not for you to see anything!’

‘If we do right tonight no one is going to have too much doubt who’s behind it. No band of drunken youngsters is going to kill a man like…’ Gafon hesitated, not wishing to use the name. ‘Regardless of how far gone they are.’

‘There is a difference between cackling rumour in the market-place and evidence sufficient to lay before a praetor.’

That last word made Gafon swallow hard; the mere mention of a magistrate was enough to remind him of how close he stood to being sold into debt bondage. Winter was no time for games and gladiator fights. If he did not come up with some money soon his creditors would take over his property and sell him off as a farm labourer to some distant rancher.

‘What is important is that the deed is undertaken unseen. If you are observed, and you are connected to me, I will pay the penalty for your misjudgement.’

The debt-ridden manager had a sudden fear that the commission was going to be withdrawn, which was not something that would go down well with the party of cut-throats he had gathered. If they found out that they had emerged from their slums for no reward they might just decide to take it out on him.

Lucius Falerius was considering abandoning the whole affair. He had a personal matter to settle as well as a political one, so a degree of self-examination was required to separate the two and ensure that one was not overshadowing the other.