The carpentum advanced slowly on the well paved Via Augusta along the eastern Hispanic coast, down from Tarraco to Carthago Nova. Inside the spacious vehicle, three women and a child traveled very comfortably. The oldest among the three women was arranging a light blanket around the child, who had just fallen asleep. It was hard to convince Valerius to allow her to visit her father, thought Morgana, but once he had agreed to it, the arrangements for the travel were very thoroughly done. She looked to Euphemia when the old servant finished covering the young girl, and asked her in a very straight way:

"You knew my mother very well, didn't you, Euphemia?"

After two days traveling together, Euphemia and Morgana had already talked about practically everything concerning the current political facts in Rome. Euphemia thought that it was the right time to start talking about the past. Morgana's servant, Trasylla, was dozing off on the cushioned bench beside her mistress.

"Yes, I did know AnniaCarvilia well. I still remember the day she and your father first came to visit General Agrippa and Julia at their house in Rome. You were not even born yet. It was such a happy home... with all the children..." Euphemia paused for a moment, as if she was allowing herself some extra time to enjoy the memories of those happy days. She smiled: "You look very much like your mother."

"Yes, at least so I am told by the few who still remember my mother. Was she happy, Euphemia?"

"I think everyone was, at that time. With their husbands always gone to some far away land, tending to Octavian Augustus' and Rome's interests abroad, Julia and your mother became very good friends, and they kept a fine circle of people around them. Writers, poets, philosophers, all of them gathered around Augustus' daughter and her friends. They used to go to Baiae in the summer and enjoy the company of the young nobility that left Rome for a milder climate, during those hot months. Your mother was always there too."

"But then, Agrippa died..."

"Yes, that was a sad time. But it didn't last long. Julia was pregnant, when her husband died and your mother had just had her first baby, your brother Aulus. So, when little Agrippa Postumus was born, they were both busy taking care of their babies. This was when Julia put me in charge of Agrippina, who was only two years old. Then Augustus made Tiberius divorce his wife Vipsania and marry Julia. I guess he never got over that."

"And my mother?"

"The friendship between your mother and Julia seemed to have become stronger after Agrippa's death. As you know, your father was Agrippa's right-hand man, but Tiberius never really liked him. That's why your father was transferred to the army commanded by Tiberius' brother, Drusus. When Julia came back from Aquilea, after losing a son by Tiberius, she and your mother never parted again, until..."

Morgana knew what Euphemia was trying to avoid. But she wanted to know. She wanted to know what had really happened to her mother. She smiled, trying to divert from the subject in order to come back to it later. "I remember auntie Julia, as we used to call her. She was so pretty and so sweet! I remember how she used to make no difference between her children, the senators' children and the rest of us, who used to spend the summer with her in her villa in Baiae."

"Yes, Julia was unique. Everybody loved her. Maybe that's why some people started to grow jealous of her. And then the rumors were spread... Ah, that was so terrible!"

"I know. And I also know that my mother was caught on that craziness. But please tell me, Euphemia, was it all true? Auntie Julia and my mother were really having affairs with all those men? No one ever told me the truth."

"You were very young at that time, how could you possibly know."

"I was eight years old when auntie Julia was exiled. I am thirty-five now. I guess I'm entitled to know the truth."

"No one really knows the truth, Morgana."

"But you were there, you must know it."

"What I know is that both Julia and your mother were young and beautiful. Their husbands were always far away. Their children did not need them as much as they did when they were babies. They just wanted to be happy, nothing else. But that happiness started to bother those who felt that the powerful positions they were holding was being threatened by those young and influent people in Rome, who were starting to feel that it was time to let the people choose again their magistrates, without a man holding supreme power over them."

"You're talking about Augustus' protegés, and all those who profited from his power," said Morgana.

Euphemia nodded and went on: "Julia's father never forgave her for letting his name be stained by the rumors of adultery and immoral behavior. But those around him never forgave her for her rebellion against the mos maiorum, and for threatening their positions in a regime that was starting to bother this new generation that had never seen Rome without Augustus to direct its steps. For that, both Julia and your mother paid a very high price. Julia was exiled by her own father to Pandateria, and Tiberius forced your father to go back to Hispania with your mother, forbidding her to set foot on Rome for the rest of her life. After that, it seems that disgrace never abandoned the members of Julia's family. One by one, her sons died; first Gaius and Lucius, then Julia Minor and Postumus, both exiled like their mother, and probably for the same reasons and by the same persons who disgraced their mother and yours. Only Agrippina seemed to have escaped that fate, but only to find herself in the middle of a battle with Tiberius. And here we are, in Hispania, trying to save her daughter from the hands of Tiberius' minions."

Morgana was silent for a moment. Then she looked straight into Euphemia's eyes, and asked the question she had never dared to ask till then: "Who killed my mother, Euphemia? Was it an order from Tiberius, like he did with Julia?"

The old servant looked very uneasy, but Morgana's eyes would not let her go without answering that serious question. "My guess is as good as yours, Morgana. No one really knows if Julia died because Tiberius ordered it. And no one knows what really happened to your mother. She knew the risks she was running when she went to Rhegium, to visit Julia. After the death of Augustus, Julia's enemies, whoever they were, felt really free to get rid of her and of any dangerous friend of her who had been spared."

"Come on, Euphemia, you were living at the imperial palace. You must have heard something."

"The person who controlled that house was Livia Augusta. Two men supplied Livia with all information she needed to control things in Rome: one was Senator Catulus Aemilius, and the other one is dead. He was Olodum Flaminius' old brother, Gaius."

"You mean... Olodum? This Olodum?" And Morgana looked through the carpentum's window to make sure they were talking about the same person. Then she turned to Euphemia again: "You think that his brother might have told him something about my mother?"

"Who knows... All I know is that Olodum is not threatened by Sejanus. And I think that Livia - with whatever persuasion power she might still possess over Tiberius - is protecting him, in return of the services once rendered by his brother. And that's why Agrippina turned to him for help. She knows that Sejanus will not be able to do him any harm, while Livia is alive. And Olodum was one of the happy children around Julia and her friends, during the good times in the villa of Baiae. As you may well remember, Olodum, Germanicus, and Agrippina were always together. A friendship that lasted longer than the days in Baiae, as Olodum served under Germanicus' armies. And after their marriage, Agrippina never left Germanicus, accompanying him in every political or military campaign he engaged."

Yes, thought Morgana, they were all so happy then. Agrippina and her little brother Agrippa Postumus; Morgana and her two older brothers, Aulus and Marcus; Germanicus, Claudius, Olodum. Whatever happened to them after that, they would never forget those happy times when their mothers and their children gathered together in Baiae.