‘The Imperatrix wishes to see you, your Grace’.

‘O God! Do I have to?’

‘She is insistent, my lord. In fact, she is in your antechamber at this very moment. Her son, the Imperator, is with her’.

Coelestinus sat up in bed.

‘My God, it must be important if she has brought the little brat with her!’

The Pontifex Maximus levered his worn body out of the lectus and snapped at his servants to wash and dress him post-haste. He ordered his servus not to pluck his face hairs out; that would take too long and he did not want to keep the mulier waiting.

‘What is his name again?’

‘Who, your grace?’

‘You know – him – the pimply youth &n...

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