“You know,” I joked with him as westood on the docks saying goodbye, “for a pirate, you’re not toobad.”
“And for a Roman, neither are you.” Hegrinned as he clasped my arm. He turned serious, and he said, “Youwere under no obligation to give me and my crew so much,Centurion.”
“You kept your word,” I replied, as ifthat was explanation enough, although there was more to it thanthat.
“Know this, Gnaeus Pullus,” Demeterlooked me directly in the eye, “you have a friend in Demeter ofRhodes and the crew of the Persephone. If there is ever anything I can dofor you or your family, leave word here at The Siren’s Song,”naming the taverna in Arelatefavored by mariners and rivermen alike. “I am friends with theowner, and he keeps messages for me. If you need me, I will come asquickly as I can.”
How, I wondered, do I respond to that? I amstill wondering, because all I could manage was a nod and a squeezeof the Rhodian’s shoulder, whereupon he turned and left us standingthere without another word. Gaius had been sent to procure a wagonand a cart, the latter for our cargo of spices and silk, and theformer for the money, and I briefly considered calling to Demeterfor some of his men to stay with us since we were drawing attentionby some of the types that like to hang about ports looking for easyprey, but when I mentioned it to Septimus, he just laughed.
“Gnaeus, we’re back in Arelate. Trustme, nobody will touch us.”
He was correct, of course, and soon enough,Gaius returned leading the mule-drawn cart, followed by a wagonpulled by an oxen and driven by the owner he had hired it from, andwe loaded the chests into the wagon and our goods and baggage intothe cart. We had already decided to make a stop before the villa,one that we were all eager to be present for, and we moved quicklythrough the city, heading for the villa off of the forum where aman named Tiberius Salinator lived. We briefly discussed sendingGaius ahead, but Septimus argued against it, offering what Iconsidered to be an impeccable argument.
“I wouldn’t trust Salinator with anamphora of my piss,” he said flatly. “And giving him any kind ofadvance warning is an invitation for trouble.”
Again, I could not fault this logic, but Iwas curious. “How come you did business with someone likethat?”
We were walking side by side ahead of thewagon, and he glanced over at me, his expression indicating he wasconsidering something, then after a couple of heartbeats, heanswered, “Because he was the only one who would loan me that muchmoney.” This got my attention, and when I looked over at him insurprise, he explained, “The Pullus name…isn’t what it used to behere in Arelate, Gnaeus, because,” now he was the one to turn hisgaze away, which I understood when he said, “Gaius did a lot ofdamage to our family’s reputation in a short period of time. And,”he sighed, “he made a lot of enemies, some of them powerful men whowere only too happy to see us in desperate need.”
It was a good thing that Gaius Pullus’ ashesare already interred in the family tomb outside the walls, becauseif he had been there, I would have run him through and twisted myblade. Not for the first, or the last time, I was reminded of whata trial all of this had to be for my lone surviving uncle, but as Ihad learned the year before, and had been more than confirmed onthis voyage, Septimus Pullus is every bit the man my father was inthe ways that matter, and I have no doubt that had he chosen to, hewould have excelled under the standard. There was no more time fortalk, Septimus pointing to Salinator’s villa, of which only the redtile roof was visible because of the wall, and I was struck by thesimilarity to our family home. It was Septimus who banged on thepostern door, having to do so twice before the peephole opened up,but what mattered was that, immediately following this, there was arattling sound and the gate was opened, allowing us entry into thevilla compound.
“At least there’s no gladiators thistime,” Alex remarked to Septimus, the first I heard anything ofthis.
“That’s why we’re here,” Septimus saidwith a grin. “I didn’t want to give this cunnus a chance.”
The slave who had opened the gate hadhurried off into the villa, prompting a delay that was beginning tomake me nervous. I was back in my soldier’s tunic, with mybaltea and vitus, ignoring Septimus’ suggestion that I notstrap my gladius to myharness, and I was beginning to think I might end up using it when,from within the open doorway, we heard voices. Then, a man ofmedium height and thinning hair appeared, and by the manner inwhich he was fussing with his toga, I was certain this was thecause of the delay, that he had decided to dress formally for somereason. He stopped short when he saw us standing there, a look ofdismay flashing across his features that he tried to hide, withoutsuccess.
“Salve,Salinator.” Septimus’ voice was genial. “As you can see,we’ve returned.”
“Salve,Pullus,” Salinator replied unenthusiastically. His eyes went to thewagon, which had an open top, and he looked decidedly unhappy as heasked, “Is this what I think it is?”
“It is!” Septimus answered cheerfully.Then I was given a hint how things stood when he added, “And withjust a bit more than a week to spare!”
“What?” I was confused, but when Iturned to Alex, he whispered, “We’ll explain later.”
For the first time, Salinator moved, and Ihave never seen anyone walking towards a fortune with lessenthusiasm than he did. Despite the fact that I had never laid eyeson this man, I was certain that he was thinking furiously, tryingto come up with a reason to refuse repayment.
“I’m afraid that the slave who handlescounting coins isn’t here,” he spoke up when he was peering downover the side into the wagon and the
