The Road to Rome by Ben Kane Page B

instinctive retort to the interrogation. Under normal circumstances, she would not tolerate this level of rudeness from anybody. This was not a typical situation, though, and Docilosa was very dear to her. Moreover, Sextus already knew of her past. ‘Jovina is still alive, although only the gods know for how much longer. She used to own us both.’
    ‘You weren’t a domestic slave like my mother, I take it,’ Sabina snorted.
    Fabiola’s nostrils flared at her presumption. An ordinary household slave was worth far less than a good-looking virgin, so Gemellus had sold her as a whore. It wasn’t as if she’d had any choice in the matter. ‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘I wasn’t.’
    Sabina’s top lip curled with disdain.
    ‘If you’d been more of a looker, that might have been your fate,’ said Fabiola, riled by her arrogance. ‘Thank the gods it was not.’
    A retort sprang to Sabina’s lips, but she bit it back. ‘Who bought you, then?’
    Fabiola took a deep breath. ‘My lover saw fit to buy my manumission and, because I asked him, that of your mother also.’
    At this, Sabina grew a fraction less surly. ‘Why would you do such a thing?’
    ‘Because Docilosa has been a good friend to me,’ Fabiola replied. ‘She’ll want to come and see you at once. Is that permitted?’
    ‘Visitors are not encouraged, but there are ways around it,’ Sabina said craftily. ‘We can use a room like this to meet. The best time is mid-morning, when the temple is busy. None of the priests will notice then.’
    ‘Good,’ Fabiola declared briskly, concealing her dislike. ‘I’ll tell her.’ She turned to go.
    Sabina wasn’t finished. ‘You must have an urgent need to visit in such weather,’ she said, probing.
    ‘My business for being here is my own,’ Fabiola retorted. ‘It’s nothing to do with you.’
    ‘You forget yourself,’ snapped Sabina. ‘I am a senior priestess here and, as such, privy to the god’s thoughts and wishes.’
    Furious, Fabiola nonetheless forced her expression to become humble. To have achieved such a position from slavery while so young, Sabina must be a woman of immense ability. In addition, by angering one of Orcus’ important disciples, she herself risked losing any chance of her request being granted. ‘Forgive me,’ she muttered from between clenched teeth. ‘It’s nothing much. Just some trouble from a business rival.’
    ‘You work in the Lupanar still?’
    ‘No,’ replied Fabiola quickly. She grimaced at her instinctive denial. ‘Yes. I bought the place from Jovina yesterday.’
    Sabina’s eyes narrowed. ‘I see. Why?’
    Fabiola did not like this unhealthy interest in her affairs. What was behind it? Placed on the back foot by her fear of Orcus and Sabina’s confidence, though, she had no easy answer. There was no harm in telling some of the truth, she supposed. ‘My lover is in Caesar’s army, and I’ve been on campaign with him for over two years,’ she replied. ‘I’ve had enough. I want to stay here in Rome, and running the Lupanar is something that comes naturally to me.’
    ‘It would,’ said Sabina haughtily.
    Fabiola wanted to claw her eyes out, but she dared do nothing. They exchanged a frosty glance. Sabina could see her anger, she thought, and was revelling in it. Unless Docilosa could bring some influence to bear, here was a potential enemy.
    The next question came. ‘Who’s your lover?’
    ‘Decimus Brutus.’
    Sabina’s eyebrows rose. ‘One of Caesar’s right-hand men? You must be very . . . persuasive.’
    Fabiola fought the colour that rose to her cheeks and lost. Damn the girl, she thought. Where does the venom come from? Docilosa’s not like this. Then she glanced at the statue on the altar beside her, and was shocked back to where she was. Orcus was not the jovial Bacchus, nor the caringAesculapius. Even the powerful triad of Jupiter, Minerva and Juno were less dread-inspiring than the god of the underworld. While they were all