The Road to Rome Read Online Free PDF Page A

walls. It was because countless thousands of plebeians in this teeming metropolis had no access to sewerage. The contrast with the cleanliness of Alexandria could not be more stark. She had not missed this aspect of life in the capital. While the light morning breeze made the odour less objectionable than during the sultry days of summer, it was already omnipresent.
    At first Fabiola had been delighted about returning. Four years away from the city of her birth was a long time. The most recent of her temporary homes – Egypt – was an alien place, whose people hated their Roman would-be masters. Her resentment had vanished at the unexpected sight of Romulus on the battle-torn docks the very night she had left Alexandria. Naturally, Fabiola had wanted to stay and help him. Her twin was alive, and in the Roman army! To her immense consternation, Brutus had refused to delay their departure. The situation had been too desperate. In the face of Fabiola’s distress, he was apologetic but resolute. She had had little choice but to defer to his judgement. The gods had seen fit to preserve Romulus’ life this far, and with their help, she would meet him again one day. If only she’d understood his shouted words. His cry had been lost in the pandemonium of the trireme’s departure; she could only assume he had been trying to tell her which unit he was serving in. Despite this, the encounter had given Fabiola a powerful new zest for life.
    Now, after more than a week of hard travel, their journey was nearlyover and, despite the thick fabric covering the litter, the air inside already smelt of shit.
    Fabiola’s stomach churned at the memory of the filth-encrusted bucket she and the other slaves had had to use in Gemellus’ house. Never again, she thought proudly. How far I have come since that day. Even the brothel into which the merchant had sold her had possessed reasonably clean toilets. Yet this small improvement hardly counted against the degradation of strangers using her body for sex. The harsh reality of life in the Lupanar broke most women’s spirit, but not Fabiola’s. I survived because I had to, she reflected. Bent on revenge against Gemellus, and discovering the identity of her and Romulus’ father, she had determined to escape her new career – somehow.
    The list of rich men who frequented the whorehouse had been its most redeeming feature. Advised by a friendly whore to win over a suitable noble, Fabiola had cast her net far and wide, using her considerable charms to ensnare a number of unsuspecting candidates.
    She lifted the heavy fabric and peered surreptitiously at Brutus, who was riding alongside the litter once more. Sextus too was within arm’s reach; it was virtually his permanent position during daylight hours. At night, he slept right outside her door. Fabiola inclined her head, glad as always to have her bodyguard nearby. Then Brutus noticed her; a broad grin immediately split his face. Fabiola blew him a kiss. A career soldier and loyal follower of Caesar, Brutus was courageous and likeable. After a number of visits to the Lupanar, he had fallen utterly into her thrall. Not that she had decided on him for that reason, of course.
    It was Brutus’ close links to Caesar which had helped Fabiola to make the final decision. Had it been her gut instinct? To this day, Fabiola was not sure. Thankfully, her gamble on Brutus as the best candidate had paid off richly. Five years before, he had bought her from the brothel, establishing her as the mistress of his new latifundium , or estate, near Pompeii.
    The property’s former owner had been no less than Gemellus! Fabiola’s lips curved upwards in triumph. To this day, knowing he’d been ruined felt like sweet revenge. Not that she’d pass up an opportunity to kill the whoreson if she got a chance. Several attempts to locate him had failed miserably and, like much of Fabiola’s past, Gemellus had faded into obscurity. She still had vivid memories of her