“That’s still better than you havingto explain to Algaia why Bronwen has a silk stola and she doesn’t,” I shot back, making itmy turn to laugh at his sudden scowl.
Then I walked over to my woman, who justhappened to be fingering a bolt of silk that had been dyed abrilliant green that matched her eyes, and I had to acknowledgethat Alex was right.
We finally managed to get out ofthe agora, making our way tothe Canopic Way, walking into the middle of it, and the only reasonI did not feel like a gawking provincial was because nobody evenseemed to notice us, making me think that the manner in which wewere behaving was a common occurrence.
“This is the longest street I haveever seen.” Septimus summed it up as we stood there, first facingthe eastern gate, naturally called the Sun Gate, which was justvisible in the distance, before turning to look to the western MoonGate even farther away.
“It’s also the cleanest city I’ve everbeen in,” Alex remarked, and it reminded me of how mygreat-grandfather had been so disappointed by Rome because he hadbeen here first and expected it to be the same way.
It was the view of the Sun Gate thatreminded us that our time was running short, but while I knew thatthe others would follow whatever direction I gave, I did not feelright about behaving as a Centurion. Therefore, I walked over to astatue of Augustus erected outside the Temple of Saturn, beckoningthe others, and once they had gathered, I put a question tothem.
“Do you want to see more of the city?”I asked, “Or do you want to do something a littledifferent?”
“If by a ‘little different,’ you meanshould we go back to the Persephoneto get enough coin to buy a few sacks of peppercornsand kinnamon?” Septimusreplied with a broad grin. “Then I vote for that.”
“So do I,” Alex put in immediately;Gaius quickly added his assent, and when I looked over to Bronwen,she was nodding her head so vigorously, her magnificent head ofhair shook itself out, catching the sun, and I had to restrainmyself from sweeping her up and taking her right then, in front ofall of Alexandria and the gods looking down.
Naturally, she also reminded me, “Do notforget the other thing,” and I had no need to be reminded what that“other thing” was.
However, rather than acknowledging them, Iturned to Demeter, who had been silently observing this.
“You know,” I tried to sound casual,“we came to Alexandria to retrieve the four hundred thousandsesterces Aviola stole from myfamily, but we recovered more than that.”
“Yes,” he replied cautiously, his eyesfixed on mine. “That is true.”
I briefly thought about dragging this out,but it is not in my nature, so I said, “The rest of that money isyours, Demeter. Yours and your crew’s. And,” I tried to hide mysmile, “I was thinking that, if we’re going to be investing inspices,” before she could say anything, I added, “and silks, thenit might make sense for you as well.”
There is no way to know just how difficultit was for Demeter to at least appear as if he was indifferent tothe idea, but he gave me a grave nod.
“That is very generous of you,Centurion. And,” now he could not restrain himself, smilingbroadly, “I think that is an excellent idea.”
I know that we missed more of the sights ofAlexandria, but this was one decision that did not rest heavily onmy shoulders.
Thanks to Demeter, who was far moreexperienced in such matters, he convinced us that it was muchbetter to send a message to the merchant to come to thePersephone and bring a substantialamount of his spices to us, doing the same with the silk merchant,rather than carrying what was a substantial amount of money back upthe Heptastadion and thereby tempting the Fates twice. And, giventhe amounts involved, neither merchant, whose names I neverlearned, tarried, so that not much longer past the first daylightwatch that we had set aside to tour Alexandria, we spotted thespice merchant bustling down the causeway, followed by a dozen men,each of whom was carrying two baskets using a pole balanced acrosstheir shoulders with a basket on each end. After a briefdiscussion, it had been decided that each party, Demeter and thePullus family, would decide about how much of each item we wouldpurchase. Essentially, we were operating independently, althoughonce the transaction was completed, we could easily see that ourminds had been running along similar lines. Our only source ofdisagreement came between how much of each we purchased; I arguedfor more peppercorns than kinnamon, while Alex argued for the opposite,and although it was a spirited debate, it was alsohumorous.
“The reason you want the peppercornsis because you always think with your stomach,” he declared, andeven if I could have been heard over the laughter, this wassomething I could not deny. However, it was his larger point,“There are more uses for kinnamonthan there are with peppercorns. It can be used as incense,in food, as perfume…”
This was when I held up a hand insubmission, and we settled on two-thirds of our purchase beingthe kinnamon, and the otherthird peppercorns, with six large sacks of the former, and fourlarge sacks of the latter. Bronwen did not take place in this partof the discussion, but when the cloth merchant arrived shortlyafterward, this time with two slaves pushing a handcart, thecontents of it covered by a large piece of drab cloth, she made upfor her earlier silence. The cart was pushed up the plank and ontothe deck, as this merchant who, while slimmer than the spicemerchant, was essentially identical in every other way, swept thecloth back with a dramatic flourish that made Bronwen squeal withdelight. Or, perhaps it was the more than two dozen rolls of fabricin a startling array of colors, while my eye was caught by three orfour rolls that were not only a dull white in color but did nothave the sheen of the others, yet when I fingered them, they didnot seem to
