his helmsman. He slapped Gaius on the shoulder and smiled, sharing his hope that today they would finally encounter the enemy and take back some measure of their loss at Thermae.
The past two weeks had been frustrating, with the Aquila patrolling at random, expecting each day to encounter an enemy galley, believing that the Carthaginians were perhaps emboldened enough by their victory at Thermae to venture east beyond Brolium. But each day had ended in frustration as the Aquila sailed through seas devoid of enemy ships and it was only morale that kept the crew sharp as inactivity chafed the nerves of all on board.
That frustration was compounded by the possibility that a second enemy was active in the area. The other captains spoke of reports of at least a half-dozen ships that had disappeared in the waters around the north-eastern tip of Sicily, ships that were known to be on a southerly course from Rome that had not arrived at their destination. These were the kind of reports that incensed the crew of the Aquila and they had accepted with relish the order that once more turned their galley into the pirate-hunter she was born to be.
‘Well?’ a voice asked and Atticus turned to find Septimus coming up from the main deck.
‘Nothing yet,’ Atticus replied, ‘but the rumours from the traders the Neptunus has stopped are the same as before.’
Septimus nodded and stood beside Atticus, looking past him to the departing Roman galley. Atticus stood easy, his hand resting lightly on the tiller. They had not spoken of their confrontation again in the previous two weeks and the tension between them had eventually dissipated, the unresolved conflict concealed by the routine of command and friendship.
‘You still think it’s pirates?’ Septimus asked.
Atticus nodded, trusting his instincts.
‘I don’t think it’s the Carthaginians,’ he said, reiterating his argument. ‘What reason would they have for capturing or sinking such a small number of ships? More importantly, not one ship has escaped to describe their attacker which means that each one was caught by complete surprise. Only a captain with local knowledge would know the best spots along the coast to ambush a passing ship.’
Septimus nodded, accepting the argument. ‘So it must be pirates,’ he said.
‘It must be…’ Atticus replied, his voice low, his thoughts still forming in his mind.
‘But…’ Septimus said, sensing Atticus’s hesitation.
‘I keep thinking of what Camillus, the survivor from the Fides, said,’ Atticus said, again lapsing into deep thought.
‘He said the pirates sunk the Fides after they captured it, slaves and all. A valuable prize,’ Atticus began. ‘And now every rumour speaks of ships disappearing without a trace. Not found drifting with their holds empty or beached with their complement of slaves taken, just disappeared as if they too were sunk. It just doesn’t make sense.’
‘Whoever they are,’ Septimus concluded, ‘it’s only a matter of time before they run into one of our galleys.’
Atticus shrugged. He was unsure if the other crews were searching specifically for the pirates. Certainly no general order to that effect had been received from Varro, but even if the Roman galleys were tasked with patrolling for Carthaginian ships, it would be unlikely that they would allow a pirate ship to pass unchallenged. Either way, up until now, Fortuna had been on the side of the pirates.
Atticus glanced over his shoulder one last time as the Neptunus grew smaller in the distance. Beyond her the horizon was clear as it was off all four points of the Aquila, a featureless seascape but one where a galley could hide if she were commanded by the right crew. In addition the ancient shoreline of Italy was littered with blind coves and headlands, a multitude of lairs for a predatory galley. To catch her, Fortuna’s wheel would need to turn in the Aquila’s favour or Atticus would have to turn the wheel for her. Armed with a crew and a galley that had hunted pirates for years that task might just be possible.
Regulus sighed irritably as his servant announced that Scipio had arrived and was waiting in the atrium. For a second Regulus was tempted to say that he was unavailable but he immediately thought better of it. He would have to confront Scipio sooner or later and as he felt more confident within the walls of his own house, now would be the most opportune time.
Regulus had left the Curia immediately at sundown, the traditional time of day when all discussion and debate was suspended in the Senate, in the hope of postponing this confrontation but even as he left, Regulus recalled thinking how futile his efforts were. In Rome the Senate might close with the setting of the sun but the Senate’s business continued regardless of the heavens and Regulus knew he could not avoid this conversation.
The senior consul half-stood as Scipio entered the room, keeping his expression neutral, matching the senator’s renowned ability to hide his inner thoughts. Over the previous weeks Regulus had tried to become adept at reading Scipio’s thoughts but to no avail, the senator’s serpentine nature constantly making a mockery of his efforts. On this night however Regulus felt sure he knew what was on Scipio’s mind and he became even more guarded, knowing that Scipio’s anger was lurking just beneath the surface.
‘The hour is late, Senator,’ Regulus said, keeping his tone even. ‘You wished to see me?’
‘Who in Hades do you think you are?’ Scipio exploded, his veneer of composure suddenly cast aside.
Regulus bristled at the words, his own vow to remain calm forgotten as his patience evaporated. ‘I am the senior consul of Rome!’ he shouted, stepping forward to meet Scipio in the centre of the room.
Scipio laughed derisively, ‘You are nothing, Regulus. You are a fool who has forgotten his place.’
‘My place, Senator,’ Regulus growled, ‘is wherever I see fit.’
‘No, Regulus,’ Scipio said, drawing himself to his full height, his hands bunched by his side. ‘You have gone too far this time. You will withdraw your announcement.’
Now it was Regulus’s turn to laugh sardonically. He turned from Scipio and walked back to his seat, taking his goblet of wine from the table as he did. He recalled the moment in the Senate only hours before when he announced that he would travel to Sicily. The campaign there was in turmoil, with the Carthaginians pushing eastward beyond Enna and the legions struggling to contain the advance in the rugged mountains, unable to bring their superior fighting skills to bear in the hostile terrain. As senior consul, Regulus had felt compelled to act and he remembered the pride he had felt when his announcement was cheered by the Senate, a spontaneous endorsement of his decision.
He had immediately looked to Scipio, knowing that his undisclosed decision would anger him, but he had been unprepared for the unbridled wrath he had seen written on the senator’s face. He took a drink from his wine, feeling confident that his decision had been wise. He turned once more to Scipio, recommitting himself as he saw the hostility in the senator’s eyes.
‘My decision and my announcement stand, Scipio,’ he began. ‘Rome needs me and I have answered her call.’
‘Rome needs you,’ Scipio spat, a mocking smile on his face at the pomposity of Regulus’s words. ‘What Rome needs is for me to decide, not you.’
‘You cannot hold me here,’ Regulus replied and Scipio realised for the first time, as he noticed a new confidence in the consul’s voice, that his grip on power was slipping. Regulus’s decision to travel to Sicily was a body blow to Scipio. With the senior consul away, leadership of the Senate would pass to Longus, the junior partner and a man completely beyond Scipio’s control.
Scipio was furious with himself. He had not foreseen that Regulus would become his own man and he couldn’t believe that it had happened so soon. With the revelation of his true intentions weeks earlier when they had first clashed Scipio knew his control of Regulus would become more tenuous but he had thought that his initial assessment of Regulus’s character was still sound, that the consul would bend to his superior will and that Regulus’s aspirations did not go beyond the title and trappings of the position of senior consul.
Scipio now knew that he had ignored his own doubts about his plan when he first noticed a new hostility emerging from within Regulus. Coupled with this the consul had unwittingly begun to gain support in his own right amongst many of the senators and the Senate’s endorsement of Regulus’s announcement earlier that day bore full testament to that support.
Scipio silently cursed Regulus as he watched the senior consul retake his seat, but this turned to a malevolent smile as he noticed again the consul’s manner, the proud bearing that was fully suggestive of his confidence. Therein lay his demise, Scipio thought and he turned to leave the room without another word, satisfied, for now, for Regulus to believe that he had triumphed.
