“A crane and winch,” I finished forhim, and he was clearly relieved, nodding his agreement.
I turned to the only ranker called to thismeeting.
“Acisculus,” I asked him bluntly, “canyou build it?”
Gnaeus Acisculus was, and is, theSenior Immune for theconstruction and woodworking group in the Fourth Cohort. He wassecond in status only to the Chief Immune who marched in the First of the Firstwith Sacrovir, and he is a capable man with, as would turn out tobe quite important, a quick mind. He is in his forties, which meanshe looks ten years older, with weather-beaten features and skin aswrinkled as an old pair of caligae, and he is missing the first two jointsof the little finger of his left hand. Now he was sitting headdown, and if I had not seen him drawing in his wax tablet, I mighthave thought that he was nodding off. I felt quite awkward withouta desk as I realized I had no real place to put my arms as wewaited for Acisculus to make some calculations that I only dimlyunderstand. Quintus Volusenus, like most equestrian fathers, hadengaged a tutor for me, and while I had been taught the basics ofthings like geometry, I would always find my mind wandering aheadto when I would be freed to go out to the Campus Martius andperform the exercises that I truly loved doing.
Finally, Acisculus lifted his head andsaid, “It all depends on whether I can get the materials, PilusPrior. I’m going to need several pieces of lumber at least ten feetlong, and,” he held up his hands and held them apart, “this wide onall four sides. But that,” he shook his head, “is not what I’mworried about.” He looked directly at me as he informed me, “Unlessthese barbarians have an iron cog and ratchet, we’ll have to makeone, and that means I’ll need a forge.” He hesitated, and in theinstant before he continued, I understood where he was going. “Butthat means we’ll need an Immunefrom the metalworkers.”
“And he’s on the ship with thewounded,” I finished for him; he was a man from the First Sectionof the Second Century.
“Do you think these Parisii havesomeone with enough skill to do that kind of work?”
“I have no idea,” I answeredSaloninus. “But I need to find out.”
We talked for a while longer, withCador and Motius describing what the repair process to the hullwould be like and when we were finished, Acisculus had two tabletsthat I would take with me to meet with Ivomagus and Cogidubnus inthe morning. Finally, it was just Alex and I, and since we did nothave our furnishings, he had laid out my sagum on the ground, while he was stretched outon the opposite side of the tent next to the flap. He was using hispack for a pillow, and as always, he was reading bylamplight.
“Are you going to be reading muchlonger?” I asked, realizing that because this was a ranker’s tent,we did not have the partition to which I was accustomed, and I wasanxious to get to sleep, but I knew the light would botherme.
“Just this last paragraph,” he assuredme, and he was done quickly enough, but before he blew out thelamp, he rolled over and raised himself on an elbow to look at me,and I could see by his expression that he was troubled.
“What is it?”
“I…I’m not sure,” he said. “But what Ican tell you is that I have a…feeling, and it’s not a goodone.”
“A feeling? About what?”
“I wish I knew,” he admitted. “Butwhile I can’t tell you why, I cantell you who it is that worries me.” When I only raised aneyebrow, he said, “I think that Cogidubnus might have something inmind.”
I cannot say I was dismissive, but neitherwas I overly concerned, if only because Alex could not articulatewhat I should be worried about; it was something I would have causeto remember later.
Chapter Four
Things began well enough. When we presentedthe list of materials we needed, Ivomagus, on behalf of Cogidubnus,who had gone hunting, quickly agreed to provide them, although whenit came to the largest forge of the two belonging to the two smithsin Petuar, when Acisculus inspected it, I could see that he wasconcerned. So was Ivomagus, judging from his expression, but he didnot say anything as we left the place, leading us back in thedirection of the river to a small lumberyard a short distance fromthe docks, where we ran into the first problem.
“There’s nothing here big enough,”Acisculus said flatly. Pointing to a pile, he said, “Granted, thoseare long enough, but they’re not wide enough.”
I could see that he was right, but I was notyet ready to admit defeat, and I asked him, “You said they’re theright length but not the width.” He nodded, and I walked over tothe pile, squatting so I could look more closely. Turning back tohim, I asked, “How wide did you say they have to be?” When he heldhis hands apart, it confirmed what I thought. “It looks like thesepieces that are long enough are almost exactly half the size ofwhat we need. Couldn’t we combine them somehow? Maybe nail themtogether?”
He walked over to join me, squatting down ashe frowned, but then shook his head.
“Nails won’t work,” he said, then justas I was about to let out a curse, he said, “but binding themtogether with iron bands? That,” he rubbed his chin, “couldwork.”
I tried not to sound smug, saying simply, “Iknow you’ll figure out a way.”
We spent a bit longer at the lumberyard, asAcisculus pointed out other pieces of timber that would be used inthe construction, cross pieces that would connect and support thelegs together and that sort of thing. Then we returned to the dock,where he pulled out his tablet and an iron square, pacing off themeasurements then marking spots on the wooden dock with chalk.Ivomagus and I watched as he was working, and I began worryingabout something, which, without thinking, I expressed in front ofIvomagus.
“I know you said the dock is the rightsize,
