A Pattern of Blood (31 page)

I went out into the courtyard to tell him the good news. As I walked into the colonnade in the darkness, a figure darted into the grotto. Quickly, but not quickly enough. I knew who it was. It was the bald-headed slave. And there was Junio, leaning against a pillar, whistling as if he had never seen a slave girl in his life.

I was getting old. I left them to it, and taking my candle, I waved aside my slave. I slipped into the bedroom, took off my own toga and went to bed.