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INTRODUCTION.

AD.43. Rome .

The silence was purple. CLAUDIUS, Emperor of all the Romans, addressed the Senate.

“The famous Octavian, the God Augustus, built us into a colossus that makes us proud to be citizens. A new dawn is upon us. The migrations of past centuries have made us one entity. It is logical our extended family should become a single community. It is our dream; nay duty, that we make it so.”

Claudius paused for effect; then glanced towards the wooden ceiling, as though looking for divine intervention.

“My friends consider the benefits; one administration with a single currency; the free movement of labor, a transport system without borders or tariffs to hinder the passage of trade, and the justice for all in a single member state.

Alas, we have a minor problem before we realize our dream of an Empire that will endure for a thousand years. An insignificant landmass, on our extreme borders, is creating difficulties. A hundred years ago, my ancestor, the Devine Julius, received homage from their leaders. These Britons, coated in blue dye, try our patience. Today they provide safe haven and arm our dissenters in Gaul . We can do no other. I have ordered the high command, on your behalf, to put an end to this nonsense."

Claudius yielded the floor as the hails of the Senators echoed around the Curia Julia. The newly created Emperor required an easy victim for his Triumph.

Never a fool he understood politics; convince the Roman populace a danger threatened then send in the troops. A little raping and pillaging would make the legions happy. After a famous victory, the populace should be happy.

The vanquished ought to be happy. They will become a part of the greatest Empire the world has ever known.

It is the 2nd year in the reign of Tiberius, CLAUDIUS, Nero, Germanicus. Four Eagles must spread their wings.

HAIL CAESAR, HAIL CAESAR, HAIL CAESAR.

Chapter 1. The Ancestors.

Chester April 1883.

The city wall collapsed to the west of the Northgate. Inside the damaged portion the corporation discovered Roman gravestones. One stone tells of a Camp Prefect , the third most important soldier in a famous legion. His epitaph two thousand years later in translation still reads.

Antonian Estate, spring 12 AD.

The Gods and Goddesses were all powerful. They ruled everyone’s lives and it was foolish to believe otherwise. Everyone from the aged Emperor Augustus to humble slave knew if mere humans angered the Gods hardship would follow.

The fresh growth on the vines, the shades of greens in the glades and meadows spoke of rebirth. Ludi Florales was the week to worship Flora the Goddess of flowers and fertility.

Last year’s festival had been a time for optimism. This year Gaius, Antonius, Aurelius expectations of good tidings had ended with a flush of fertility. The frustration was heaven sent. The soothsayers and augers predicted difficult times and they had been right.

On the valley floor, a spinney of Cyprus and Citrus trees held pride of place. On the lower slopes vines in neat rows led to the hilltop. In the heat haze, half in shadow, half in bright sunlight, the white walls, of the larger villa displayed man’s domination over the landscape.

The echo of a twin baby’s cry carried on the wind to reinforce that Flora especially, and all the other Gods might be against him.

One year earlier.

A maternal grandfather’s vast wealth smoothed Gaius’ path through puberty. Two sisters had been married off, an elder brother left to make his way in the army. The temptations for a student, in Rome , the greatest city in the world had been difficult to resist.

The call into the holy of hollies, the Triclinium of the famous Roman Domus, of his illustrious grandfather was a time for trepidation. This was a house of entertainment, for adults. The murals of beautiful Goddesses and tightly muscled Gods with mighty phalluses engaging in sexual acts confirmed Julius Antonius, the Patron of the Anatonian Family, enjoyed the high life. It was rumored the great and often the licentious spent time on these famous Persian carpets.

No distraction came from others, no guest intruded. The voluptuous figure of Julia, his mother and Grandfather Julius Antonius resplendent without attire confirmed the masseurs had been at work.

Julia’s bosom, thighs, and shoulders glistened resplendent from the oils. A heady aroma of perfume coupled with the hint of perspiration from the lithe young house slaves carried to every nuke and crevice. The Caldarium ran hot in a room along the corridor and everyone received the benefit. Heat warmed the blood and stimulated the sexual organs, every said so. His eldest brother eluded the senior Antonians, behind closed doors, were not averse to indulgence. Gaius had not believed his lewd stories until today.

An army of Grandfather’s spies must have confirmed his use of the brothels or worse his infatuation with the actor Lynus Secundus. Gaius suspected his licentious judges knew about every sordid detail though neither relation referred to these misdemeanors.

Julia grasped a stuffed date, craned her neck upwards, fed the fruit between her ruby red lips, and then poured some wine down her esophagus. Some of the liquid escaped her lips to trickle seductively down her chin while other droplets lathered her ample cleavage.

The son tried not to stare at a mother’s provocative pose and failed. Mother knew very well how to attract and was never averse to displaying her talent.

“It is high time you were married. We can’t let a strong libido spoil your future prospects.”

Mother’s amusement at his embarrassment seemed heaven sent. The frown on Gaius’ brow eased. Today a whip might not scar his back, tomorrow they might not send him to the northern villa to basket stones, along the olive groves, with the field slaves.

Grandfather’s cough and finger playing with his goatee beard confirmed the Patron perused his fate. It came as no surprise that his father was not a part of any deliberation on his future. Julia believed her husband’s Aurelian bloodline was suspect and had made other arrangements with her later offspring. The gossips eluded a famous gladiator sired his sister Isadora and a trainer of the Whites Racing School was his true father.

“My vintner tells me you have an aptitude with the grape and show promise in managing the field slaves. You have a sturdy manly figure. I agree with your mother, it is time for you to claim a wife. The Primus family has merit. You are the youngest son; even I cannot achieve miracles with such lowly status.

“Augustina came home from Athena to be educated.” Julia added her name with a dramatic rise of the arms as though appealing to the Gods. It showed her bosom and rouged nipples to full affect. Gaius tried not to stare and failed.

“The marriage will take place within the month. We prefer to celebrate Ludi Florales in the countryside. This year you and your new spouse may dine with us.” The Patron’s decree was absolute.

Gaius nodded his acceptance of a done deal. He had seen Augustina Primus at the Circus Maximus, if from a distance. They had even been at a Cena together twice and shared a few formal words of greeting. There were far worse fish in the sea than Mistress Primus. A friend whispered Augustina had a look that told of an amorous nature.

Eugenius Aurelius and Julia met in the former Roman Domus they had shared. It might gall the poorer husband when Julia demanded his audience, in the name of the family, though he obeyed. Coming to heel, did not aid his health and temper.

“You are the boy’s father. We need your compliance for the match.”

“Why should I agree? Eugenius replied.

Julia ignored this unhelpful start in the negotiations, smiled and remained silent.

“They say her breeding is a little circumspect, a grandmother and a slave. Primus continues to live in Athene. There are disquieting whisperings about his habits.”

The dull ache in Julia’s stomach proved a painful distraction. Her speedy retort spoilt any allusion of friendship. “What about yours husband? I presume Master Largo still warms your bed?”

“You’re a fine one to talk. I let you live with your father like a common whore.”

“My father keeps you in luxury. It is only right I keep house for him."

“Is that what they call it these days?”

“Make your mark.” The threat of retribution was in Julia’s tone.

Eugenius shrugged and placed his seal in the wax. “I know the boy’s not mine, nor the Patron’s or he’d have declared Gaius his heir. The boy carries my name, mores the pity. Why be bitter anywise, a younger son has few expectations and your fornications keep other whores away from the old lecher. My estate in Cyprus , pass it over as a wedding gift. The lad needs a start in life.

“Your generosity does you credit husband. How much will it cost us to retrieve the debt from your lenders? Father and I are sick of financing your perversions.”

Eugenius grabbed Julia’s wrist. I can still take a whip to you anytime I like and don’t you forget it.”

Julia spat. The spittle ran down her husband’s cheek as they wrestled. “Don’t be a fool. Mark me again and father will have you castrated.”

Eugenius allowed his wife to go free. Julia rubbed the scar on her neck then spat again. The slap across the face sounded like whiplash. She screamed though no slave came to her aid. The knee into her stomach was vicious. Julia rolled away as a look of fear came onto her pretty face as she remembered those earlier times at a husband’s mercy.

Eugenius satisfied by his moment of superiority relaxed. “Marry off your brat and good riddance.”

Chapter 2. The hand of fate.

Gaius and Augustina settled in the north to assist in the managing of the family estates. With estranged parents and a mother as a fixture with their grandfather, the smaller villa became a perfect love nest. Augustina had taken to her husband with wry good humor and her marital duties with enthusiasm.

Ludi Florales was a time when females placed flowers in their hair and everyone rejoiced at nature’s rebirth. Refusing the invitation to celebrate the festival was not an option whether the stories of debauchery were true or not. Gaius had whispered the senior Antonians were licentious in their habits and an orgy was a distinct possibility.

Augustina quite taken with the idea was not in the least shocked. The Gods and Goddesses made love all the time and entertainments in arenas were often brutal, lewd, and crude. It was not as if she was an innocent virgin, besides slaves endured far worse. It was a duty to obey a master’s whim. A Patron’s wishes were sacrosanct.

Gaius gave a worried sigh and then squeezed his wife’s hand as they entered the larger Villa. It was his wife’s first visit to the big house.

Nothing looked decadent or out of place in the Atrium. The marble pillars and bronze doors spoke of the wealth and power of the Family Antonius. The shrine of the household Gods matched the grandeur as both nodded their respect with hands clasped together as in prayer. Augustina marveled at the grandeur then noticed Gaius’ mottled reflection on the bronze and giggled, half in amusement half in nervous tension.

Two handsome house eunuchs, dressed in short kilts, opened the double doors in perfect unison allowing a cacophony of music and voices to echo around them. This inner sanctum was the holy of holies only honored guests frequented these portals.

The Triclinium oozed a feeling of debauchery and wealth from exquisite mosaic floor to ornate ceiling. No murals of the hunt regaled this stucco plaster, no mosaic remained plain and unadorned. Augustina gazed in wonder at the exquisite paintings of Goddesses enjoying rampant sexual experiences while the other Gods stood proud and erect. Priapus sporting a naughty grin stood beneath her feet as though in immediate readiness to accommodate any passing female. It brought a smile from some of the guests and made her blush.

Julius Antonius reclined on a couch of golden cushions chatted with her aunt. Gaius knelt to kiss his Patron’s ring and mumbled salutations. Julia wearing gossamer white loosely tied in the fashion of a toga rose up from her coach, kissed Augustina on both cheeks, and led her towards her place.

The niece greeted Uncle Flavius and Aunty Portia with surprised delight. They had overseen her nuptials with care and deliberation. Augustina had never supposed they knew the senior Antonians this well. It explained a little better her marriage into high society.

The other three guests were acquaintances, distant relatives from the neighboring valley, an eldest son, his wife, and a teenage widowed sister. In the background, two entertainers waited politely while the musicians played a haunting lilt with lyres, pipes, and drum. Three serving girls attended their needs with food from, tree and fields. The steward and a blonde slave dressed like the God Apollo plied them with wine, fruit juices, or beer.

The mixture of young and old provided a pleasing contrast. The lithe unfettered beauty of the young wives seemed a perfect balance to the more voluptuous figures of the matrons.

 Julia and Portia’s jewelry regaled them both in an aurora of gold. Portia’s armlets, bracelets, and necklace were a perfect contrast to her short black hair while Julia’s locks of long blonde hair matched her golden torc and necklace. The ruby clinging and then swaying between her ample breasts was proving as much a distraction to the males as Augustina’s long shapely legs.

Some guests left to spend a welcome break; the slaves moved the table to the side and angled the side couches. The myriad of cushions placed across the Persian carpet confirmed the formality of the meal was over.

At first the chat was staid, a word about politics, the harvest, the games. The gossip was slow in coming though wine made a great leveler. Aunty Portia got the hiccups, the young wife’s cheeks shone like ripening apples, and Uncle Flavius belched then winked at the poet.

A risqué song from the actor, a suggestive ode from the poet lightened the mood. A friendly feel of Portia’s behind, from the Patron, lowered the tone. The eerie tone of the Panpipes encouraged Julia to take the lead. It was not a striptease in the true sense though the twist of the hips and shake of the bosom loosened her outer garment easily enough. The gossamer silk glided towards the cushions with a dramatic flurry leaving only the matron.

The guests needed no other excuse. Uncle Flavius set off in hot pursuit of the actor. The widow disrobed and allowed her brother to fondle a breast. His wife, not to be outdone, kissed Augustina full on the lips then helped her undress.

Gaius intimidated, with elder relations close to hand, downed more wine. A grapple from both his wife and playmate stripped him bare. In the supposed struggle, everything became a blur. A musician helped him towards the latrina.

A few hours later Gaius awoke to discover the husband in the arms of his wife and Aunt Portia astride Grandfather. The widow, with gay abandon, made more than music with a musician. Mother hugged the steward and wore nothing except a drunken smile and shining metal. The young wife was the meat between Uncle Flavius and the poet.

Gaius with inhibitions eased by alcoholic euphoria, pulled a roast pigeon apart, and offered the lean meat to his mother. Lust and a desire to copulate with forbidden fruit became the nature of their game. Julia leant across to take the feed, allowed her son to dribble the wine into her mouth, while her hand cupped his genitals.

It was not a cough, more a satisfied groan from the son. The throttled gasp came from his mother.

Julius noticed his daughter’s face turn a ghastly shade of blue, half rise, and then collapse back onto a couch. "She's having a seizure. Help her someone." Julius struggled to rise pushing an astonished Portia off his perch.

Gaius slapped his mother’s back hard. "Something's stuck in the throat." In desperation, he held her arms rigid and shook. The body did a merry dance. "Grandfather, the pulse, there is no pulse. The Gods have carried her away."

No one spoke. Old Julius knelt beside his daughter then pulled her lifeless body into his arms. After everyone was dressed, the steward removed the corpse, lit candles, and put out a Cyprus branch.

All Romans understood the hand of fate. This consolation made the funeral no easier to endure as the dirt from the six days of mourning washed down the latrina.

“Patron, Antonia is always asking for you to visit.”

"Good idea Gaius." Eugenius’ said. Antonia, his eldest daughter, resembled her Grandmother in both looks and mannerisms. A favorite with her Grandfather she might console him.

Old Julius sighed. "This villa holds unhappy memories. My Domus in Rome will be no different. Pompeii it is."

Chapter 3.The Bartered Bride.

Julius Antonius sailed from Ostia , for a period of mourning in the jewel that was Pompeii . The colony, a hundred miles south of the capitol, created by the dictator Sulla over eighty before, had become a popular holiday retreat.

Refreshed from the daily visit to the baths, Julius walked through the Atrium to find his granddaughter. The Patron used to the cut and thrust of life in the capitol was bored.

"Pray tell Antonia, who is to entertain me at Cena this bright afternoon?"

"Brutus Caderus and family, my Septimus introduced him at the baths."

"Ah yes, an amiable enough fellow. Don't tell me he's another with a daughter that looks like a broodmare, has buried two husbands, and cannot wait for number three?"

"Yesterday’s offering only had one, sadly he died."

Julius looked hard at his granddaughter. "Not with her help?"

"Grandfather do not play the suspicious lawyer. Pirates sank his ship. You could have done worse than Celia. Her father is reputed to have more gold than Croesus or even you."

Julius roared with laughter. "I've enough mares in my stable. The last place I need another is in my bed. I'm getting too old for such nonsense.”

Antonia remembered the rumors of the Patron's many armors, not to mention mother taking up residence. "As I heard it has never stopped you before."

Julius Antonius, a little taken aback by a granddaughter's censure, changed the subject. "Septimus told me Caderus was in debt. I do not need hassle for financial help. There are enough clients bleeding me dry in Rome ."

"I don't care if the Caderus Family are poor grandfather. They are good neighbors. My friend Sibyl is married to the eldest son. Run off and change into a clean toga. You can rest easy on your laurels today."

The Patron a wily old bird was not used to a lecture from anyone though Antonia reminded him of his deceased wife and for this reason alone he forgave a sharp tongue.

The formal introductions were almost completed. The Patron bid the local councilor Brutus Caderus good tidings. The councilor gave the same respect to his host. The introductions continued to the younger daughter. "May I present my daughter?" Lord Caderus pointed at the adolescent.

"Greetings Martha I see the best has come last." Julius sounded gallant, but meant it. One could never pretend Sybil, the eldest daughter, was a beauty.

For Martha to attend Cena as a guest was rare. She curtsied with green eyes open wide in admiration. The twelve year old was beginning to blossom. Any right thinking man could detect the promise of rare beauty to come.

For the first time since the orgy, Julius felt his loins stir. Not a man to ignore good omens he became attentive and turned on the charm that he held in abundance. The flattery brought out the best in the adolescent.

Martha's mother could hardly contain herself until the slaves left. "You did well child. It is plain the Senator liked you. This girl will be worth her weight in gold Brutus."

"The Senator was only being gracious. Lord Antonius was asleep when we left.”

"What's that got to do with anything? I have been around men long enough to know when someone's interested."

Brutus looked at his wife's ample girth and ageing bosom and marveled at her long memory. "Martha is nothing but a child. The Patron can buy what he needs in Rome ."

"Let hope he prefers a Pompeian when he takes a wife?"

"I told you he was only jesting. You can see he's past it."

"That's not what I heard. Flora said her cousin. You must remember Portia?"

"How could I forg-."

"Mm: that's as maybe. Anyway, her brother is a Praetor. Flora whispered Portia said the senator has more than an eye for a pretty face and as for Julia she was never as pure as a vestal. Mistress Aurelius sponsored the Whites with more than just money and some say she and her father lived as man and wife.”

"They say who listens to slave gossip, learns a pack of lies. The wealthy sponsor the games or the races it is the way of the world. Someone needed to look after the house." So Julius was not adverse to a good orgy. Lucky him I say. Why take a young wife? There are hundreds that would service a wealthy man.”

"Brutus, there is no need to be coarse. Lord Antonius is lonely losing a daughter in such circumstances. A distant flower can taste sweeter than one closer to home."

Brutus admired the buttocks of the house slave in the vestibule and wished he had the money for an orgy. "Who would want us as a relation? We are so sorely used I dare hardly bathe. Set no store by an arranged marriage woman."

"What's to become of us?"

"I do not know."

"Then a marriage settlement is our best hope?"

Brutus embarrassed shrugged. "Pray to Ceres our grapes are well filled and the oil flows from the groves and all might be well. Only yesterday the soothsayer predicted better tidings."

"There you are then.”

Brutus smiled at his wife and admired her optimism.

Julius Antonius spent a restless night, wondering at such foolishness. With a loving daughter dead, the prospect of either living alone or circulating amongst a tribe of grandchildren carried the motion. He was wealthy better to enjoy the power and take his pleasures while alive.

"Scarbo?" The master located the slave on a sleeping mat." Awaken you lazy son of a barbarian. There is work to be done."

The slave knelt before the master." Not my sandals: tell Lord Septimus and my granddaughter to attend."

"Are you not well master? Should I go for the physician? It is an ungodly hour."

"It will be you needing the physician if you aren't quick."

The slave shook the mistress awake and received a loud squeal for his trouble.

"Scarbo, what do you think you're doing?"

"Come quickly; the Patron shouts for you both."

"Put something on husband even if it's a towel. Do you want to frighten the slaves? Scarbo turn away this minute you've seen black before.”

Septimus tapped his wife’s bottom then attempted a kiss.

“Enough of that.” Antonia rushed ahead to find her grandfather pacing the mosaic." Grandfather are you ill?"

" Ill ! Of course not; going to an orgy?"

"Mind your business." Antonia said with feeling. Grandfather was admiring her figure in minute detail. It was very disturbing, not to mention the strong rumors about mother cohabiting.

"Caderus, are his affairs in a parlous state or not?"

"Grandfather the cock has not crowed."

"Wearing that I'm sure he has." Julius gave his granddaughter a look that had silenced a Caesar.

Septimus felt the towel loosen. "They say Caderus needs a miracle if his estate is to survive."

"Miracle he might have." The Patron said with a hint of irony. "Tell me more."

"Err praise Pluto." Septimus' towel came undone. He held it against his stomach while starring across at his wife with resignation.

Antonia attempted to hold down the black silk, so that grandfather might not see her matching pubic hair. She indicated with a wink, it was best to humor the Patron.

Under some duress Septimus, continued thinking Lord Antonius had an eye for profit. "Much of the Caderus land is productive. The finest vines lie on the slopes of Vesuvius. Caderus borrowed too much on a poor harvest three years past."

"The family has high status?"

"Why yes, he is not the only patrician crippled by usury."

"They are closely related to the Vespasians,” Antonia said.

"Vespasians related? Not the family they were but the bloodline has merit." Old Julius made up his mind. "Septimus go as my agent and ask Brutus for the bride price on Martha."

"Grandfather she's a child. Are you sure, this is what you want? Knowing by the look on his face that is exactly what the old lecher wanted. It was something of a relief to discover his amorous intent lay elsewhere.

"Martha is almost as comely as you were in your youth." Septimus meant it as a complement.

Antonia chose to believe otherwise. "Is it any wonder my looks are vanishing with a fool to look after?"

Grandfather risked a half smile. Antonia was by far the prettiest of his granddaughters and well knew it. "I'll say she's not without some half hidden attributes."

Antonia noticed the glance. The nightdress had slipped exposing a breast. She pushed the protruding nipple inside the silk. The other hand covered her exposed Venus mound." Well what do you expect waking us at dawn? My finest stolae: and we thinking you were ill."

"I'm far from it. I feel rejuvenated. You introduced me to the purest bloodstock in Pompeii . Do you blame me for selecting the finest mare to mount?"

"Grandfather there is no excuse to be disrespectful." Antonia attempted to look shocked at the language. "A young wife will kill you in a month."

Septimus hearing his wife’s pointed answer roared with laughter.

"There's life in the old dog yet good woman,” the patron replied.

"I only ask for a little caution. We must not charge at this like a gladiator in the arena."

"Why not; don't women crave a stallion in the prime of life?"

Septimus smiled at his wife’s confusion.

"Oh you're as bad husband. You can handle the sordid details I’m sure." Antonia left, though not before grandfather received another glimpse of her fine anatomy.

"Quite a Medusa when she gets going. Sheer black suits her. The image of Ju, err, my wife." Julius changed the subject abruptly as he remembered a daughter’s Venus mound. "Give Caderus anything you think reasonable. Accept him as a client. Buy off his lenders. I'll take Martha with me to Rome ; say within the month."

Brutus Caderus blanched when the steward woke him from his slumbers fearing the lenders had crossed his threshold. Well-trained he rallied to better tidings. "The senator does my family high honor to consider Martha. My daughter is young. The offer is unexpected but her blood flows so she's eligible enough I suppose."

"The Senator is of a mind to have her. My Patron understands your discomfort. Our family shall be pleased to restructure any debt. We would not wish a close relation to fear for his estate."

Brutus eyes darkened as the mention of assistance sounded like a threat. The success for any plea bargain was slim. His wife would smile on the union and sell their daughter tomorrow. "I agree. It is timely I cannot deny. Pray invite your Patron to dine: yes after he bathes. Better, make it today. The lovebirds need to become acquainted, and then we'll see how it goes."

Only to Rome Septimus thought; though did not blame Brutus the decision. The child was desirable any idiot could see that. He carried away the glad tidings.

Brutus' wife wept openly at the news. Not for Martha's good fortune, more because the Domus was safe and her rose bed might be cultivated for perpetuity. The father left the details to the mother and ran to spread the glad tidings to his debtors.

Martha was overwhelmed with such attention. The thought of living in Rome inspired her. The adolescent like many girls might be innocent though there was a desire to escape to a better life away from dominant parents.

Two weeks later Paulus, the eldest brother, took Martha aside. "You don't have to do this. He is older than father. Plead illness, play for time."

"What else can I do? It is a gift from the Gods for father. The senator has wealth and position. He treats me kindly."

"Do you know abou-?" Paulus was about to mention the facts of life.

"Copulation?" Martha suggested." I live and work with slaves. I am not that innocent. They say the work will not be too arduous taking an older husband." She giggled then held her waist, like the working girls that plied their trade around the baths.

"Err quite; felt I had to-: good that's settled." Embarrassed Paulus left, thinking Martha would not be the first virgin sold off to the highest bidder. It left a sour taste until the third glass of wine addled his senses enough to dream of a renewed inheritance.

The gathering could smell the oil from the myriad of lamps swinging in the evening breeze. The wine had flowed. Martha's mother would have succumbed if a slave had not steadied her across the Atrium.

Martha unused to strong liqueur fell asleep the Senator did likewise. Her mother had made it clear it was a maiden's duty to entertain this suitor to the best of her ability. The wine reinforced a natural curiosity. All Julius' desires received a willing reception that he found breathtakingly strenuous.

A wealthy man is difficult to refuse. The parents could not believe their good fortune. Eugenius could not believe his bad luck. Any hope of reconciliation with his former father in law was over.

Julius Antonius settled in his Roman Domus so Martha might see the wonders of the capitol. The family embraced the happy couple, with a show of merriment few of the closest bloodline felt as the prospect of advantage disappeared with every inch of Martha's expanding belly.

The pretense of family bonding did not survive out of the Senator's sight. Julius was too infatuated to notice. Martha did not complain until safely confined in the northern villa.

The pregnancy was not easy. The birth was difficult. A Caesarean section saved her. The twin boys were sturdy and survived though never again would the mother conceive. Julius never left Martha's side. She repaid his kindness tenfold when she reared their children alone.

Three months later Julius had a stroke and died. It was too late for the disinherited. The Patron had made his wishes clear. The Vestal Virgins guarded a new will. The bulk of the Estate went to the twins.

It was foolish to show disrespect for the wishes of the Gods and try Martha's patience. The break up with the Aurelius family was hard though the young mother had the sense to do it.

Eugenius had little choice. It was logical to forfeit the villa. He had not lived there for years. The new wife owned it not him. The Aurelian family surrendered the lands to the North to discharge Eugenius’ pressing debts.

Gaius could not dispute the will. Uncle Flavius confirmed while his mother had not lived with the famous trainer he was with her and often. Julia was not averse to attending orgies. His true parentage was very much in doubt.

Martha’s advisors offered compensation it was difficult to deny. The smaller Domus in the capitol and the condominiums where Eugenius received the bulk of his income was in reality the new wife's property. The widow did not press the legal matter. No one thanked Martha for that. By the time, any thoughts turned towards Gaius, there was no help forthcoming. The Aurelius family was very much the poor relations.