“If you wear that, I’m going to haveto fight every man on this ship.”
This made her laugh, but it alsopleased her, and I was encouraged at the sudden rush of color backto her face. Instead, she chose a blue gown, although to my eyethat made her only marginally less desirable. Once she was dressed,I pulled out my fur-lined sagum, ignoring her protest that she was finenow, wrapping it around her, not daring to tell her that the mainreason I did so was because it amused me to see her swallowed up byit.
“Now let’s go up on deck and see whatthe damage is.”
I immediately regretted my choice of word asshe gasped in alarm, and I did my best to reassure her, but whileshe followed me out, she clearly did so with trepidation andprobably because she did not want to be alone in the cabin. When weascended the ladder, the sky was still a leaden gray color, and itwas still raining, although not all that hard, while the breeze wasblowing briskly enough to make the sails billow fully out, with noslack or rippling in the canvas. The oars had been shipped, and myfirst impulse was to go to Demeter, who was at the steering oaragain, to urge him to resume rowing to enhance our speed even more,yet somehow, I refrained from mentioning it. I am certain that thiswas a wise move on my part, but I found it quite difficult not tobring it up.
Somehow, I managed to simply ask, “Iseverything all right, Demeter?”
“All right?” He looked surprised. “Whywould it not be all right?”
“Well,” I replied jokingly, “the lasttime I went through a storm like this, I ended up a fuckinghostage.”
“You call that a storm?” Demetersnorted. “That was nothing, Centurion.”
I bit back a retort, mainly because I knewthat it was a fight I could not win, so instead, I asked, “Am I atleast correct in assuming that because the storm came up frombehind us that we’re making better time?”
He nodded, then glanced up at the sky,making a full revolution as he examined the heavens, thenpronounced, “If the wind holds at this speed until dark, I think wegain a half day.”
This was indeed good news, so I wentto inform the others, and I was actually proud of myself forrefraining from bringing up the oarsmen. This turned out to be awise decision because, even as I was approaching the others, wherethey were huddled together against the wind, theHortator beat the drum in a rapidpattern that anyone who is a passenger quickly learns is thepreparatory command to begin rowing. In unison, more or less, thethree banks of oars thrust out and splashed into the water just asI joined the others, and I reached out to brace Bronwen for themoment when the speed increased, but there was no need as she gaveme an amused look at what I suppose she viewed asoverprotectiveness. She looked much better, while Gaius no longerlooked terrified, although he was a bit green, but whereas before Imight have teased him about it, I had spent sufficient time bentover the railing that I did not feel right doing so. I informedthem of what Demeter had said, at least about gaining time,choosing to leave out his comment about the storm’s severity. Asthe seas calmed, the wind began dying down so that, by sundown, itwas as if the storm never happened, and by the time we went below,the water in the cabin had drained out under the door and down intothe bottom of the ship where, presumably, one of the men in thelower tier that was composed of slaves bailed the ship out. Onething I had learned very soon after we boarded for Ubiorum is thatthere is always a fair amount of water sloshing around in thebottom of a ship, and it is foul, nasty stuff because it’sliberally mixed with piss when men for one reason or another cannotpiss out their oar hole. True to her curious nature, Bronwen wantedto at least look into the main compartment, but I absolutelyforbade it, and I made sure that Septimus, Alex, Gaius, andMarcellus knew it. She did not take it well, letting me know in nouncertain terms that she did not appreciate being restricted inthis manner, but I was unmoved, and it resulted in a tense two orthree days. By this point, she had thankfully desisted, but as weall knew we were nearing our destination, there was a naturalincrease in the unease among all of us. I was certainly not immune;when we were still three days away from Alexandria, I had my firstbut not my last dream about what awaited me when I finally returnedto Ubiorum, and while I will not go into the details, it wasextremely vivid and seemed real enough to jerk me awake, pantingand soaked in sweat despite the cool temperature.
I cannot count the number of watcheswe spent planning, talking, arguing, and refining our plan, and Iwill cross the river certain that there has been no campaign inwhich I have or ever will participate that was as thoroughlyexamined as what the Pullus family did aboard thePersephone. Naturally, we wouldstart at the Aviola villa in the Soma quarter of Alexandria, whichis designated with the Greek letter Delta, where most of thewealthier Romans live, and this would be where Alex and Gaius wouldbe our exploratores. Thereason for this was straightforward enough; Septimus had actuallymet Aviola once, while Aviola had never laid eyes on Alex or Gaius.He had not ever seen me either, but I was quickly convinced that byvirtue of my size and being a Roman, he might be alerted thatsomeone named Pullus was hunting for him. We would be spending justenough gold to loosen lips without arousing enough attention thathe might be warned, and in fact, we discussed finding a moneylenderto exchange our aureifor denarii, drachmaeand even sesterces, butdecided to do so only if it was convenient and would not cost ustime to find one. If our search was fruitless, we would then moveto the next most likely quarter, the
