I cannot say what made me do what Iwas about to do, or even why, but I shifted my gladius to my left hand, then leaned over tooffer my hand to the slave, saying, “I would prefer to be looking aman in the eye when we talk about killing each other.”
Now it was his turn to be surprised, but hereached up, and I pulled him up to the walkway, making sure that Idid most of the work, wanting to let him know my strength, andwhile I am not as adept with my left hand, I was confident I couldrun the man through if he tried anything. He did not, and then wewere standing facing each other. While he was not quite as tall asI was, it was not by much, but it was his eyes that I studied,trying to get an idea of the quality of man I was dealing with.
“What is your name?” I asked, stoppingfrom adding “slave” at the last instant.
I do not know if he appreciated this smallcourtesy, but I thought I saw a flash of appreciation there.
“My name is Ivomagus,” he answered. “Iam the brother to Cogidubnus…the King of the tribe you call theParisii.”
I heard Motius suck in a breath, but Cadoronly seemed bewildered; it was not important in the moment, thoughit struck me as odd. For the first time since the uproar had begun,it was relatively quiet, and I could feel the eyes of every mancrammed into that compartment on us, which prompted mydecision.
“Follow me,” I said curtly, andwithout waiting for an acknowledgement, I walked to the stern,certain that he would follow me, and I was correct.
This broke the short-lived silence, but whenI glanced over my shoulder, I saw Ivomagus making a calming gestureas he spoke to his fellow slaves, and I assumed that they wereconcerned for his safety. When I reached the door, Saloninus wasstanding there, and the men who had armed themselves were stillarranged on either side of the walkway, with the wall of thecompartment to their back.
“Wait here, keep an eye on things,” Isaid quietly. “I’m going to talk to this barbarian inprivate.”
I heard Ivomagus offer what I am certain wasan oath at the characterization of him as a barbarian, but despitethe insult, he followed me readily enough as I crossed the spaceand reached the door of my cabin. Ivomagus’ reaction when hestepped around the ladder, stopping to look up at the square ofsky, making a cry of what I assume was pain from the harsh light,from which he held one hand up to shield his eyes, had more of animpact on me than anything he could have said.
“How long has it been since you’veseen the sky?” I asked on impulse.
At first, I did not think he heard, or if hedid he did not understand, because he gave no sign, but then I sawhis chest expand once, twice, then a third time, and I realizedthat as much as the sight of the sky, it was the ability to bringin pure, uncorrupted air that was the most affecting.
When he did answer, it was with a shrug,though his back was still to me as he continued staring upward.“Weeks. Months, perhaps? It is hard to keep track.”
“That must be…difficult.” Even as thewords came out, I knew how it would sound, and he gave a chucklethat held little humor.
“Yes, Centurion, you could saythat.”
“Come into my cabin,” I ordered,unwilling to continue in this manner.
He obeyed, reluctantly, turning away fromthe ladder and walking into the cabin, where Alex, stripped to thewaist in the heat, had been in his hammock judging from it swingingbehind him as he stood there, scroll in hand.
“Reading again, I see,” I said dryly,and he flushed, but his attention was immediately drawn to thefilthy man who stood in the doorway. Pointing at the stool on theopposite side of the desk, I told Ivomagus, “You can sit therewhile we talk.” He moved, slowly, and sat down on the stool, hiseyes never leaving mine. I decided it would be a nice touch, so Iplaced the gladius, which hadnever left my hand, across the desk between us. “Now,” I began,“what assurances do you need to know that we’re telling thetruth?”
I had hoped to disrupt his equilibrium bytreating him with relative courtesy, and while he did seem slightlydazed, his response was a derisive snort.
“From a Roman?” It was not quite asneer, but it was close. “It would take me some time to think ofsomething.”
I immediately understood two things;Ivomagus was trying to use the same tactic with me, and that he wasnot to be taken lightly. Despite his overall condition, despite thesituation, he was still able to retain his wits, so I decided toalter my approach slightly.
“So, please tell me what exactly Romehas done to wrong you?” I asked reasonably. He started at this,staring at me as if I had lost my senses, and he opened his mouthto say something, but then I saw something flash across his face.Taking a chance, I asked, “Did Rome take you prisoner?”
He shifted slightly on the stool, and forthe first time, he broke eye contact with me.
“No,” he admitted.
Before he could say anything more, I asked,“And were you sold in a Roman slave market?”
This got him looking back at me, but againhe answered, “No.” This time, he added quickly, “But this ship isserving Rome, is it not?”
“It is.” I nodded. “But what does thathave to do with your predicament, or the predicament of your men?”Shaking my head, I continued, “We don’t ask whether a ship’s crewis slave or free, and if they’re slave, we don’t ask from where.”Acting as if I did not know, I asked, “How were you captured, Ivomagus?”
My intention had only been to shift theconversation away from his anger at Rome, but once more, he brokeeye contact, this time looking down at his hands folded in hislap.
“I was captured during a raid againstthe Iceni,” he
