“That’s twenty percent of your entirecash reserve,” I had argued, and when they had still insisted, Itried, “But if you’re going to be putting those businesses back torights, you might need some capital!”
“You don’t seem to have much faith inme to sell our cargo at a profit, Nephew.” Septimus had said thiswith a smile, but it was Miriam’s retort that I had cause toremember.
“So we’re no longer the richestmembers of the Head Count.” She laughed. “But you should know thatit’s impossible to keep a Pullus down!”
This had partially mollified me, although Iam afraid that I let the idea that the master of this ship that wasslowly making its way upriver had robbed me settle into my mind, soI was not particularly good company the first two days, untilBronwen told me in no uncertain terms that she was not putting upwith my foul mood. And she was very matter-of-fact about it,informing me that if I had any hopes for coital bliss at the firstopportunity that presented itself, I needed to put that resentmentback in a cupboard in my mind instead of continuing to do what shecalled pouting like a child. Alex wisely pretended not to hear anyof our quarrel, which took place at the back of the ship with theanimals, not that it helped, but he showed even more judgment innever bringing up my meek and quick promise that I would no longerbrood. Fairly quickly, the circumstances became so eerilyreminiscent of the year before that my mind was occupied with otherthings, although this time, we did not have to rig up a canopybecause there was already a cabin of sorts, consisting of canvasstretched over a wooden frame, not dissimilar in shape to a Legiontent, placed on the side at the stern opposite from the steeringoar.
Unlike the year before, Tullius did not havea son scurrying about, and whether his lone crewman was a freedmanor slave, I did not care enough about to ask. And, just as the yearbefore, the further north we went, the deeper the snow, and themore frequently it fell, meaning that Alex and I spent a fairamount of our time brushing off the horses. Otherwise, our time wasspent under the canvas, having learned from the year before thatusing charcoal in a small brazier kept us quite comfortable, andwhile I did not have my father’s scrolls, the night before we left,I had crept up into the Prefect’s library and filched his copy ofthe account by Divus Julius about his time in Gaul, which I used tobegin teaching Bronwen her letters. I had already observed as much,but it was during this time I learned just how clever Bronwen isand how quickly she grasps new knowledge, and most importantly, howhungry she is to learn. More than once, it crossed my mind how mostRoman men, of all classes, would view the idea of teaching a woman,or even entertaining the concept that their minds can be as agileas ours, and I suppose that it is because of my mother that I havea much different outlook. I never knew my paternal grandmotherIras, but I have heard enough about her, and observed in my motherGiulia that women can be every bit as clever; under the rightcircumstances, as I had learned with my aunt Miriam, they can alsobe every bit as ruthless as men. As diverting as this was, andenjoyable, always lurking in the back of my mind was that thisinterlude must end.
I was not the only one who noticed theparallels, as Alex jokingly said when Bronwen was out of earshot,“At least she’s not pregnant.”
“That’s true,” I had to agree, then Igave him a playful shove, “but it’s not because we haven’t beentrying.”
It was during this conversation, after westopped laughing that, as we leaned on the railing watching thelandscape drift by at a pace that was both excruciatingly slow andfar too rapid at the same time for me, he said quietly, “Gnaeus, nomatter what happens, I hope you know that I’ll be at yourside.”
“I know,” I assured him, and I did,and do. “But at the same time, you have Algaia and Iras to lookafter. And,” I hated to say it, but it needed to be done, “if I’mexecuted, you need to help Bronwen go home.”
“I will,” he assured me. “But I don’tthink it will come to that. Germanicus,” he shook his head, “isn’tthat kind of man.”
I certainly hoped he was correct, and Iconfess I felt the same way, but I had decided to remain cautiousin my outlook.
“Well,” it was all I could think tosay, “my father always said that I suffered because I was a paidman and hadn’t been in the ranks, so maybe I’ll get my chance tofind out what it’s like.”
As I hoped, this made him laugh, but ofcourse he had to ruin it by reminding me, “You know we’re going tobe stopping at Mogontiacum.”
“I know.” I sighed, but then I toldhim what I
