Final Campaign

which of his books hewanted sent to him, and where to send them. I had put Diocles incharge of handling that task. Perhaps it was an excess of caution,but this is the type of job so menial that seeing a Camp Prefectarranging shipment of books would at least raise an eyebrow. It isa credit to my little Greek and his devious mind that, rather thanexplaining the contents, I just handed him the letter and let himread it. Within a few heartbeats, he was laughing in delight as Ihad been.

"He couldn't be in a better place," wasDiocles' comment, echoing my own thoughts.

Now, Gaius was telling me that he had sentword to Scribonius, and while he had not divulged any details, Icould read between the lines, and I knew that it was more than acase of Diocles simply surrendering the information aboutScribonius when Gaius asked. They had worked together, I was sure,and although I was touched at the loyalty, of all the people I didnot want to involve in this mess, Sextus Scribonius, under anyname, was at the top of my list. He had already suffered so muchfrom my indiscretions, and this was the most dangerous situation Ihad ever been in. This might sound strange, considering the numberof times I was literally a sword's breadth away from death, butthis was much, much more than my life. And compounding the perilwas that, at least at that point, as far as I knew it was Octavianwho was the architect of this threat. I do not believe it istreasonous to say that he was, and still is, the most dangerousman, not just in Rome, but I believe the entire world to have as anenemy. Even if he was not out to actively destroy me, if he did nothold me in any regard, I was only in marginally less danger. Yet, Icould not deny that a vast amount of the time I spent thinkingabout my predicament was predicated on one simple question: Whatwould Scribonius advise me to do?

Finally, I could only think to say, "Well,hopefully, he'll stay put. But I do thank you for the thought,nephew."

"Avus," Titus suddenly broke his ownsilence. Although he was not technically my grandson, at least notyet, since I had not adopted his father at this point, Gaius andIras had always referred to me as his grandfather. Personally, Isaw no need to correct him; frankly, every time I heard him say theword, it gave me a silent thrill. In him, I saw and see the reasonwhy I suffer the dreams I do, and am burdened by the memory of somany, many deaths, of all the decisions that I made where I turnedmy back on loved ones, or performed an act that under any othercircumstance I would find dishonorable.

"Will you take Ocedus with you?"

"Yes, Nepos," I told him gently."He's my best friend. I wouldn't go anywhere without him."

"Oh," he clearly looked disappointed. "I wasjust hoping that I could take care of him while you're gone."

"I know he would like that very much." And Iwas speaking the truth.

Despite Titus' inability to pronounce hisname, Ocelus had a bond with the boy similar to the one he had withme, except that, as I had witnessed the day we returned to Siscia,Ocelus somehow understood what Titus meant to me and that he neededprotection. Part of the daily ritual before we left on campaign hadbeen Titus bringing Ocelus an apple or some other treat. In thebeginning, he had been in either my, Gaius, or Iras' arms, but assoon as he learned to walk, he would toddle to the stable. Underescort, of course, of which there was no shortage of volunteers, asthe most hard-bitten men of the Legions sought to spend time withthe boy. I was not fooled; for a large number of them, they weresimply trying to ingratiate themselves with me, and with Gaius,since a disproportionately high number of Titus' guards were fromGaius' Century.

"I know he'll miss you as much as you'regoing to miss him." I tried to comfort the boy, pulling him into mylap.

"Will you be sure to give him his apple?Every day?"

Suddenly, Titus started to shimmer in frontof my eyes, his face peering up at me appearing to be as if I waslooking at him from under the water.

"Yes, Nepos," I promised him. "I'llmake sure he gets his apple, and that I'm only doing it becauseyou're not there."

"I'm going to miss Ocedus," He leaned intomy chest, and I was almost overwhelmed by his smell, knowing thathe was not talking only of my horse.

"And he's going to miss you too," Isaid.

Leaving Siscia at dawn the next day, ridingOcelus, while Diocles rode his own horse, a roan gelding humorouslymisnamed Thunder, who was as biddable and docile a horse as I hadever seen, we only carried what could be packed on a mule. Wetraveled quickly, reaching Serbinum in a day, then arriving inSalona just short of four days later. Stuck in Salona for threedays because of rough seas, we finally took passage on a shipcarrying a variety of goods, spending an uncomfortable night tryingto find a spot among the other passengers and crew under theawning, as another autumn storm struck. The rough weather delayedus so that we landed at Aternum shortly before dark of the secondday and stayed the night there instead of pressing on as I hadhoped. Once on good, Roman roads, we made rapid progress, and myone regret is that I was not in a better frame of mind toappreciate the progress that Octavian had made after so many yearsof civil war. Gaius had told me of the changes in Rome itself, butthat had been five years before, when the 8^th marched inthe triumph of Marcus Crassus. We reached Corfinium late enough thenext day that we stayed there the night, and I did take some timeto admire the partially constructed aqueduct that came down out ofthe nearby hills. Spending the night out in the open the nextnight, the closer we drew to Rome, the more intense the tinglingsensation that I always felt when I was either