fever was spreading gradually and the slave-master had been forced to abandon the lowest level of thirty oars on each side, operated by single slaves, leaving just the middle and top rows working, both operated by pairs of slaves. The resulting loss of speed irked Rhaskos, who kept up a constant stream of entreaties to his various gods.
Keeping a mile or so out to sea, the ship slid past the bay of Marathon and on down the Attic coast. After two days they crossed the Saronic Gulf to the Peloponnese, weaving through the numerous trading vessels making their way to and from the port of Piraeus in one of the busiest shipping lanes in the world.
Early in the morning on the fifth day they approached the strait between the southern tip of the Peloponnese and the island of Cythera. Vespasian and Magnus were leaning on the bow-rail watching the dry coastline pass by, so clear through the pure air that, even at a distance, individual trees could be picked out on its hills. Sabinus joined them, looking pale and none too steady on his feet although he had not been sick for a couple of days now.
‘We’ll be making the crossing to Italia soon,’ Vespasian said, idly turning his attention to a couple of distant trading ships some three miles ahead. ‘What happens when we get to Ostia?’
‘We’ve got to get the priest to Antonia,’ Sabinus replied weakly, leaning against the rail, ‘and then we wait.’
‘For what?’ Magnus asked.
‘For Macro to tell us how and when to get Rhoteces to Capreae.’
Magnus looked alarmed. ‘Hold on a moment, there’re two things in that sentence that I don’t like the sound of: Macro and Capreae. Why’s this the first that I’ve heard mention of them?’
‘Yes, Sabinus,’ Vespasian said, equally as alarmed, ‘why haven’t you told me about Macro’s involvement before?’
‘Oh, so he’s told you about taking Rhoteces to Capreae then, but you just didn’t bother to mention it to me, did you?’ Magnus sounded aggrieved.
‘That’s because you don’t have to come.’
‘Are you going?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well then, so am I. And what’s Macro got to do with this?’
‘Antonia’s using him as our route to Tiberius,’ Sabinus replied. ‘In return she’ll commend his loyalty to the Emperor and recommend that he uses him to replace Sejanus. It’s an alliance of convenience.’
‘Well, it don’t sound too convenient to me,’ Magnus grumbled. ‘The last time we saw Macro he was trying to prevent us getting out of Rome; I tried to take his head off and he left a dagger in Vespasian’s leg.’
‘Magnus is right, Sabinus; and he would have got a good look at us both.’
‘Yes, and I don’t suppose he’ll be too pleased when he gets a good look at the two of us again, if you take my meaning.’
‘Well, I doubt that Antonia’s going to change her plans just because you’ve had a difference of opinion with Macro,’ Sabinus said dismissively. ‘Anyway, he’s working with us now so I’m sure that he’ll be happy to put the past behind him — if you ask him nicely and give him his dagger back, that is,’ he added with a thin smile.
‘Very funny, Sabinus,’ Vespasian snapped, ‘but I don’t intend to get that close to him.’
‘You might not have a choice,’ Magnus said darkly and stomped off to the other end of the ship to where Sitalces was sitting with Artebudz and Drenis under the awning.
Vespasian swallowed hard; he did not fancy coming face to face with Macro but it seemed that it was going to be unavoidable. Contemplating the problem, he turned his attention back to the two distant ships and watched with interest how they were forced to tack with the wind, zigzagging to negotiate the narrow strait between the island and mainland. Even at its reduced speed the quinquereme was slowly overhauling them as it made the passage on a straight course, under oars.
‘Do you have any more surprises in store for me, Sabinus?’ Vespasian asked after a while. ‘It would be nice to know now whilst there’s still time to think about them.’
‘I’ve always told you whatever you needed to know at the time,’ Sabinus replied testily.
‘No you haven’t, you’ve only told me what you thought I needed to know. If we’re to work together effectively we need to share everything because it’s impossible to make the right decisions without all the information. You weren’t aware that I had come across Macro so you didn’t think it important to tell me that his interests and ours are now aligned.’
‘You should’ve told me that you’d come across him in the first place.’
‘He was trying to arrest me on the Aemilian Bridge four years ago; the way I saw it he was just another Praetorian doing his duty. I would have mentioned it if I’d known that he’s now changed sides.’
‘So I’ve told you now; what difference does it make?’ Sabinus snapped, hating being lectured to by his younger brother.
Vespasian fought to retain his temper. ‘The very fact that Macro has got to where he is in the Praetorian Guard shows that he is a man of ruthless ambition and not one to let bygones be bygones. He will have his revenge on me if he sees and recognises me, there’s no doubt about it. The question is whether his desire for revenge will interfere with whatever plan we put into place to get Rhoteces in front of the Emperor.’
‘He would be a fool if it did.’
‘You might think so, but pride is blind. I left him sprawling in an undignified heap in the dust; he may well think that the slight to his dignitas is too much to bear and use the opportunity to stick a knife between my ribs, just to make himself feel better, even if it jeopardises everything else.’
Having met the man Sabinus could see that his brother’s hunch might not be so far from the truth. ‘You could be right, I suppose,’ he conceded. ‘We’ll just have to try and keep you away from him.’
‘How will that be possible?’
‘We’ll see, but I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about him before, Vespasian.’
‘So, any more surprises then, Sabinus?’
A shout from the forward watch, just next to them, cut short any reply.
‘Trierarchus! Dead ahead.’
Vespasian looked up. A trireme had appeared from behind the headland at the tip of Cythera and was speeding towards the two traders, now no more than a mile away.
Rhaskos came running forward for a closer look.
‘Oh, Bendis help me,’ he wailed. ‘Pirates, and we don’t have the men to fight them off. We are truly cursed.’
‘The sun’s low behind us. We must be in its glare on the water — they haven’t seen us yet,’ Vespasian observed. ‘Let’s just leave them alone. They’ll be more than happy with what’s on board those two traders.’
‘We could try to sail past,’ Rhaskos replied, ‘but that will only arouse their interest. They’d expect a ship of this size to try and intervene; if we don’t they’ll assume that we’re either undermanned or carrying someone or something too precious to warrant risking. Either way they’ll come after us.’
‘What about turning and running?’ Sabinus suggested.
‘That will definitely tell them that we’re scared and with so many of the slaves too ill to row they’d catch us in a couple of hours. The only thing to do is to call their bluff. I’ll have Gaidres and his men arm the crew and we’ll sail straight for them as if we’re going to ram them and pray to every god that you can think of that they run.’
‘How many bows do you have?’ Sabinus asked, thinking of his only previous encounter with pirates.
‘More than we have crew,’ Rhaskos replied as he ran back to give the order to Gaidres to break out the ship’s weaponry.
Up ahead the trireme had reached the first of the traders. Vespasian watched as grappling hooks flew over the little ship’s stern and it was hauled into a deadly embrace. A stream of men flooded from the pirate galley on to their prey. By now they were close enough to hear the screams of the defenders float across the water as they were cut down within the close confines of their small, nautical world. The second trader sailed on.
By the time the first trader was taken the quinquereme’s crew and Gaidres with his men had assembled on deck. Each was armed with a bow and — much to Vespasian’s unwarranted surprise, since they were Thracians — a rhomphaia strapped on their backs.
Rhaskos shouted an order and the stroke-master accelerated the beat to attack speed. From below the sound of whips cracking over the backs of the labouring slaves intensified as they were goaded into the more rapid rhythm.
The quinquereme surged forward, its huge ram cutting through the swell, churning the water beneath its bow
