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Ian tried hard not to laugh. 'Don't apologise for what you believe in, Dorcas,' he said. 'We are what we are, we should never have to be sorry for it.'

The girl seemed suitably encouraged by this, and brightened considerably. 'Myseif and Tobias, that is another of the praefectus's slaves, we were converted by The Word when a man named James told us of the teachings of the good news.'

'Where do you come from?' Ian asked.

Ì was born on the island of Crete and lived there with my family until the mariners came through the surf and carried us all into bondage.'

Ànd now you want your freedom?'

Dorcas giggled and placed a hand to her mouth. 'Gracious no, sir. I am better fed under this regime that I ever should be, living the life of a fisherman's wife.'

`But you are not free?'

`Freedom is an illusion,' the girl replied with a philosophical flourish. 'At night we all dream of being locked in cages; of running down never-ending corridors. We are all prisoners of some power greater than ourselves. Only through The Word shall we know freedom.'

Ian found this view strangely unsettling. 'And the Romans approve of your faith?'

'They...' Dorcas paused and searched for the right word. `Tolerate it,' she concluded. 'Some of them punish us for our insolence in daring to believe in anything other than the de facto aspects of life. Others are amused by our whims and caprices. The praefectus, though, is a man of compassion and tolerance. As long as we practise our faith in private and do not let it affect our work or subservience, we are indulged.'

`Do you fear that one day the Romans may look upon the Christians as their problem rather than that of the Jews?' Ian asked, already knowing the answer.

‘That would be... unfortunate,' said a voice from the back of the mezzanine. Dorcas stood and sighed heavily as a tall and elegant, well-muscled African man joined them at the table.

`Tobias,' Dorcas said. ‘Another believer.'

Chesterton introduced himself as the black man broke bread and nodded to his new acquaintance. 'You are from Britannia, I understand?' he asked.

‘Londinium,’ replied Ian.

À cold land, I am told. I, myself, am Egyptian. I find the Thracian winter to be a savage ordeal.'

Òh, my friend, you'd hate England,' Ian said flatly.

'In answer to your question,' Tobias offered, 'it is likely that the Romans may, soon, regard our brothers as a direct threat to their authority. And as word of the Christ's message is spread, we shall without doubt face persecution and death.'

'There is much truth in what you say,' Ian noted. 'But I have a feeling that Christianity will survive its brush with whatever Rome can throw at it.'

The sound of someone clapping his hands stopped Ian in his tracks. He turned to find Drusus giving both Dorcas and Tobias severe looks of displeasure.

'There are people hereabout who should be working instead of being involved in the idle chatter of good-for-nothing dogsbodies,' he said angrily. Both slaves hurriedly finished their breakfasts and left the vestibule without another word.

'That was my fault,’ said Ian quickly. 'We were talking about how Christianity is spreading, and...'

Drusus shook his head. 'Christianity,’ he scolded. 'It comes between those two and their wits. You should not be encouraging them in their strange and abnormal beliefs. You are an outsider in this land and still have much to learn about the internal affairs of the empire.'

Ì know exactly how Pete Best felt,' Ian said sarcastically. 'I'm a superfluous item here, clearly.'

The master of the house shrugged his shoulders defensively. `This is the way that things are,' he continued.

'Tobias and Dorcas should not be encouraged.'

`That's terrible,' Ian replied. 'Even slaves have the right to be treated as equals.'

Vicki finally finished her woeful story. 'And, you know,' she concluded, `the worst of it all is that I actually like it here. Apart from the fact that I seem to be completely clueless as to the right and wrong thing to say at any given moment.’