"Davus will die there," Diana said. "He'll die in Brundisium, trapped with the rest of Pompey's men. Caesar will put his foot into the boot of Italy and grind them all beneath his heel."
"Caesar has shown mercy, so far," I said cautiously. "He took Corfinium without spilling a drop of blood."
"But this is different. This is Pompey. He'll never surrender to Caesar."
"Perhaps Pompey will flee, rather than fight."
"Across the sea? But Davus can't swim!"
I tried not to smile. "I imagine they'll take ships, Diana."
"I know that! I'm thinking of the weather. No one sails at this time of year if they can help it. It's too dangerous, especially crossing the Adriatic. Storms and shipwrecks- I keep seeing Davus clinging to a scrap of flotsam, waves crashing over his head, lightning all around…"
The curse of an overactive imagination was something she inherited from her mother. "Davus is cleverer than you think," I said. "He can take care of himself."
"That's not true! He's sweet as honey on a cold morning and just as slow, and you know it. And what if Pompey doesn't flee, and there is a battle, Caesar's men against Pompey's? Davus would never do the sensible thing and run away. He'll feel obliged to stay and fight, for the sake of the other soldiers. It's like that for men in battle, isn't it? Comrades and loyalty, to the last drop of blood?"
I had no answer to that. I had been in one battle in my life, fighting with Catilina at Pistoria; what she said was true.
Diana grimaced. "Meto says you don't even feel the wounds when they happen. You just keep fighting until you can't fight anymore." She looked at me with sudden horror in her eyes. "Davus and Meto could be in the same battle, on different sides. They could kill each other!"
Now her imagination was definitely getting the better of her. I rose from my chair and crossed my study. I laid my hands on her shoulders. She leaned back against me and I circled her with my arms.
"Davus was trained to be a bodyguard, not a soldier. You know that, Diana. That's how Pompey will use him- to guard his person. He'll keep Davus close to him, day and night. Now I ask you, where could Davus be safer? Pompey is no fool. Look how cautious he's been so far, retreating two steps every time Caesar advances one. Davus is probably safer with Pompey than he would be in Rome."
"But what if there is a battle, and Pompey is at the head of the charge, leading his men? Caesar does that; Meto says so. Davus would be doomed then. It's as you say, he was trained to be a bodyguard. He'll sacrifice himself rather than let Pompey be harmed. He won't even stop and think. If there's a sword aimed for Pompey's heart, he'll throw himself on it!"
"Diana, Diana! You must stop imagining such things!" I sighed. "Listen, I want you to close your eyes. Now picture Davus. What's he doing this very instant? I'll tell you. He's standing at attention outside Pompey's tent, bored out of his mind, struggling not to yawn. There, can you see him? I can. I can even see the fly buzzing about his head. If he yawns, it may fly into his mouth!"
"Oh, Papa!" Diana sniffled and laughed in spite of herself. I held her close.
"What do you suppose Davus is thinking about right now?" I said quietly.
She laughed. "His next meal, probably!"
"No. He's thinking about you, Diana. About you and little Aulus."
Diana sighed and snuggled against me. I congratulated myself on having successfully comforted her- prematurely, as it happened, for the next moment she trembled and burst into tears and pulled herself from my embrace.
"Diana, what now?"
"Oh, Papa, I can't stand to think of Davus like that, so far from home, so lonely for us! He must be utterly miserable, and there's nothing he can do about it. Papa, you must promise me that you'll get him back. You must do whatever it takes to bring him back to us!"
"But Diana-"
"You must find whoever killed Pompey's kinsman, and tell Pompey, and make him give back Davus!"
I shook my head. "You don't know what you're asking, daughter."
She gave me a puzzled, dissatisfied, desperate look. In her eyes I saw something I had never seen before. For the first time, it occurred to her that her beloved father, upon whom she had always relied as upon a rock, might simply be too old now, too far past his prime to keep his family safe. I wanted to assure her that nothing could be further from the truth, but my tongue was like lead in my mouth.