I was safe – for the moment, anyway! But even as I felt relief wash over me, I knew that I could not really afford to relax for an instant. If Junio was right, my pursuers would not give up easily. They were probably already on my trail. And if they found me . . .! I shuddered. Think, foolish pavement-maker, think! I tried. It was not easy while struggling to keep my balance on a wildly rocking litter, but I tried to put my fear aside and to think rationally about the day’s events. While I was in the workshop I had been too terrified to give a moment’s consideration to anything beyond getting out of there, but now that I turned my mind to it I began to recognise for the first time the full horror of my predicament. I was effectively a fugitive. Half the town was looking for me and even the faint protection of my toga was no longer a disguise. I could not go home, there was nowhere in the city I could hide for long, and the town gates would certainly be watched. Nowhere was safe. What was I to do?
