by R. W. Peake
“No,” I replied firmly, “all you and Demeter are going to do is to make sure he’s there.”
“Then how do you plan on getting hold of him?” Septimus asked. I chose to give my answer in the look I gave him, and he groaned, “Pluto’s balls, Gnaeus! Are you mad? You can’t go in there!”
“Who will stop me?” I thought it was a reasonable question, but given the manner in which every person present came to their feet to begin shouting at me, I suppose I was the only one.
It was when Bronwen protested, “You cannot just walk into this place in the daylight and expect that you will get out!”
“Which is why I’m going to be doing it once it’s dark,” I explained, doing my best to sound confident. “And,” I was on firmer ground with this, “I’m the only one strong enough to carry him all the way back to the Persephone.”
I was pleased to see how much this flummoxed the others, but Alex was by no means through.
“Where,” he asked suspiciously, “did you get this idea from, Gnaeus?”
“From my head, of course.” I tried to sound surprised, but he was not fooled.
“You’re thinking of what the Prefect did with Deukalos.”
The manner in which he said it, almost as an accusation, did not sit well with me, and I snapped, “So? What if that’s where I got it from? It worked, didn’t it?”
“This is completely different,” Alex shot back. “If we had caught Aviola in his home, his real home, then I could see it, but you’re going to be surrounded by people who would rather slit your throat than speak a word to you! You know,” he pointed at me, knowingly, I am certain, “these people hate Romans nearly as much as they do the Macedonian Egyptians!”
He was right; it was considered an accepted fact that the native Egyptians loathed Rome more. I suppose much of it had to do with the fact that Egypt is now an Imperial province, as opposed to the other provinces that were nominally held in the name of the Senate, but the wealth of Egypt had convinced Divus Augustus that it would prove to be too tempting a prize for an ambitious upstart with the right bloodlines to be ruled by a Praetor, so that the highest ranking Roman in the province was only a Prefect, or the official title Praefectus Augustalis, who was a political nobody, and Tiberius had not changed this practice. None of which mattered at this moment, but it served as a reminder that, whether I agreed or not, this was something with which I would have to contend.
“You can’t go alone,” Alex said, the first sign that he had accepted the inevitable.
“I’m not,” I assured him. “Demeter is going to return with me to guide me to the right house.”
“That’s not enough,” Septimus protested, but I was not about to agree.
“So far on this voyage, I’ve done nothing but sit on my ass and look at nothing but water.” Marcellus spoke for the first time, grinning as he did so, then added, “Besides, I’ve never been to Alexandria either. I’d love to see some of it in the event we have to leave quickly.”
“There,” I looked at Septimus first, since he had been the one to raise the objection, but I made sure to look to Alex, then to Bronwen, “are you satisfied?”
“No,” Septimus replied, “but I can also tell when you’ve made up your mind.”
With this settled, I turned my attention to Alex, trying not to think of Algaia and their child back in Ubiorum as I urged, “The sooner you and Demeter get out into the city, the sooner you’ll find him. Go to his cabin next door. He has some clothes that will fit you.”
Addressing Marcellus, I urged him to get some rest, and he left to the spot that was essentially where Gaius had been hiding and where he had made something of a compartment of his own by shifting some crates around, and which Demeter had yet to unload. I did not say anything to Gaius because I did not have to, Septimus catching the hint and standing up, mumbling something about going up on dock to get some fresh air, then, when Gaius seemed reluctant to go, grabbing him by the arm, throwing me a wink as he left.
“Do you really think this is the best way to catch this man, Gnaeus?”
I answered Bronwen immediately and firmly, aided by the fact that I believed what I was saying, “Absolutely, Bronwen. And,” I walked over and placed both hands on her shoulders, “I have no intention of doing anything stupid. With Marcellus’ help, I’m going to bring Aviola here. Then?” I shrugged. “We’ll see how long it is before he’s willing to talk.” Even as I said this, the image of Lykos leapt into my head, but I had no wish to think these things at this moment, having something else entirely in mind.
The crew returned in mid-afternoon. I had assumed that Demeter would have cleaned up the remains of Lykos, waiting until darkness to discreetly dump them over the side, but he had something else entirely in mind. It was young Gaius who tentatively knocked on the cabin door, awaking me and Bronwen from a light doze. As she hopped to her feet and pulled on her gown, I called to Gaius to hold a moment while I shrugged into my tunic. When I opened the door, I instantly saw how pale he was, and my immediate thought was about Alex.
However, when I asked him, he shook his head and said only, “Uncle Septimus says you need to come see this.”
He did not wait for an answer, turning and walking to the ladder, and I hurried after him, wondering if I should have grabbed my gladius. When I got to the main deck, however, the first sight that greeted me were the men of the Persephone, standing in a circle, where I could just glimpse Demeter standing in the middle of it. I approached slowly, and when I got to the main mast, I saw Septimus was leaning against it, but while he was not as pale as Gaius, he was clearly disturbed. At my questioning glance, he indicated with his head, and I looked back to the circle of men, where I got a better look at Demeter; it was what was at his feet that explained why both Septimus and Gaius were behaving so strangely. Since I could not make out what he was saying, I sidled closer, trying to be unobtrusive, uncertain how these hardened mariners were taking what Demeter was telling them. I debated whether or not to get closer, then decided against it, taking my place next to Septimus.
“Have you ever seen anything like that?”
I glanced over at Septimus, seeing that his eyes were understandably fixed on the corpse, but while I debated saying something that would indicate this was nothing unusual to me, instead, I answered simply, “No.”
“And they were friends,” Septimus was speaking as if to himself. “He did that to a man he thought of as a friend.”
Why I chose to be honest is something I still do not understand, but I told him, “They were far more than friends, Septimus.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his head turn towards me, studying me as I kept my eyes on the knot of men.
“Ah,” he said finally. “I see.” I heard him take a deep breath, then he added, “That’s even worse, then, isn’t it?”
“Worse for who?” I countered. “Him? Or the poor bastard all chopped into bits?”
“Maybe,” he commented, “that’s the kind of thing it takes to be the master of a bunch of pirates.”
I was surprised that I had not thought about it in this manner, but I instantly decided Septimus was right. Demeter had not struck me as an exceptionally bloodthirsty or brutal man, and while he had administered three beatings during the voyage, I would liken them to the kind of thing that happens in the Legions. No, the comrades of the man being striped do not like it, but they also know this is life under the standard, and it is probably no different with the crew of a ship, even one composed of pirates. What I was completely unprepared for was when, suddenly, Demeter thrust his arms up into the sky and spoke loudly enough for us to hear, which I recognized as the prayer Greeks use for the dead. Then, it was over, and the men began drifting away, some of them giving us a cursory glance as they muttered to each other. One by one, they slid down the ladder, heading towards the compartment, until only Demeter was left, and he approached me, not giving Lykos another glance, his face betraying no emotion whatsoever.
“I
am ready to go with Alexandros,” he announced. “We will return as soon as we have determined whether your information is correct, and,” now he did give a slight smile, “if my guess is as well.” I was about to point to Lykos, not liking the thought of leaving him there, but he beat me to it, “If you wait a bit, you can allow the lady Bronwen to come up to get some air. She will not see anything…disturbing.”
Then, without another word he went to the ladder, dropped down to the second deck, leaving us standing there. Without the crew in the way, we had an unobstructed view of the corpse, and I supposed that the only positive was that by the time Demeter had hauled his remnants up on the main deck, Lykos’ blood had drained out. Regardless, it was not a pleasant sight, and I turned away from it, wondering how Demeter would make good on his promise to remove the body. Just as Septimus and I got to the ladder, Demeter’s head emerged, with Alex following right behind, and despite the seriousness of what they were about to do, I could not refrain from laughing at the sight of my clerk, dressed in a loose-fitting garment that might have been white once, his head wrapped in cloth of the same color, one loop of which was draped around his neck. It was, I had to admit, almost identical to what I had observed of many of the men working on the docks, so I could not say why it made me burst out in laughter as I did.
“I’m glad you think it’s funny,” Alex complained. “But I’m already itching. It must be crawling with lice.” Addressing Demeter, he asked in an accusing tone, “When’s the last time you boiled these things? Or, have you ever?”
Demeter was facing me and not Alex, and he winked as he said over his shoulder, “You need to blend in, Alexandros. If you are not scratching, people will wonder why.”
And, as humorous as it may have been, Alex did actually blend in much better than he would have otherwise, and he demonstrated how he could pull that extra loop of cloth up over his lower face, which Demeter had shown him. He did so while we were walking over to the plank down to the dock, and I offered both of them my arm, holding on to Alex a bit longer.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” I admonished him.
I should have anticipated his reaction, which was to laugh in my face as he said, “You are telling me not to do anything stupid? We are truly living in an age of wonders!”
“Go piss on your boots,” I called after him as he followed Demeter down onto the dock, and Septimus and I stood there watching as they disappeared into the crowd.
“We found him,” Alex said with a triumphant grin when Bronwen and I greeted them at the plank, having caught sight of the pair making their way through the crowd on the causeway. “He’s exactly where Aviola the Younger said he might be.” Before we could react, his smile faded as he added, “And he has four guards.”
“Four that we could see,” Demeter interrupted. “I believe he probably has at least one more man inside the dwelling itself.”
This was not good news, but it was not unexpected, at least by me; I also decided that it would be better to continue this down in the cabin, and I led the others down below. Once the pair had refreshed themselves with watered wine, Demeter turned to Alex, giving him what can only be described as a compliment.
“I would like very much to have someone like Alexandros on my crew. He truly does not miss anything!”
The only sign that Alex heard was how his features darkened slightly, but he was looking down at a tablet, from which he read now.
“One unusual thing is that apparently Aviola owns the entire building,” he began. “Most of them are divided into two separate dwellings, but from front to back, not split down the middle.”
“So there will be two exits,” I said.
“Exactly.” He nodded. “Which is why there are two men on each side.”
“Are they just standing there?” Septimus asked this, though I did not understand why at first until he explained, “Are they making it obvious that they’re standing guard?”
“No,” Alex replied, then felt it necessary to amend, “at least, they’re trying not to look obvious about it. The men on one side are sitting on a couple of barrels, pretending to just be passing the time.”
Demeter spoke up, “On the other side, one of them is sitting with his back to the wall, and he has what looks like a harness of some sort in his hands that he is pretending to be fixing. But,” he smiled slightly, “if he is, then he is not very good at it, because he was working on it the entire time we were watching.” Turning serious again, he went on, “The second man is not on that side of the street, and it took me some time to determine that the man I found must be one of Aviola’s men, because he is standing in between two of the houses across the street, just out of sight. In the dark,” he shook his head, “he will be difficult to see.”
“I made a rough sketch of the spot.” Alex opened the tablet as he laid it on the small table so that I could see it. “Once Demeter pointed out this fourth man, I went another block over to see if that space he’s hiding in runs all the way to the next street.” Using his stylus, he pointed down where the incised lines that represented the walls of the adjacent buildings suddenly stopped, well short of the perpendicular line that marked the edge of the next street. “As you can see, it doesn’t. Or,” he allowed, “it’s not obvious, but I didn’t want to get too close or pay too much attention to it.”
“If we do it right,” I shrugged, “the most we need to deal with are the two men in the front.”
“And since when has that happened?” Alex scoffed. “You know nothing ever goes the way it’s planned, Gnaeus.”
While I do not like being rebuked, especially in front of others, Alex was correct, which I signaled by asking, “So what’s your suggestion?”
“Oh,” he answered cheerfully, “I agree that we come in from the front, but I’m also saying that we need to be prepared for at least four men. Which,” any sign of humor vanished, “is why I’m going with you.”
“If Alex goes, I’m going,” Septimus spoke up.
“Centurion,” Demeter broke in before I could tell them to forget this idea, “now that I have seen it with my own eyes, I was going to suggest we bring at least one more man. Two is better because it would make the odds close to even.”
“Demeter,” I did my best to keep my tone under control, “I assure you that I can handle more than just one man, I don’t care how good they are.” This made me think of something, and I asked both him and Alex, “And what kind of men are we talking about? The Gabinians died out a long time ago,” I said jokingly. “And they would be the only men I would worry about.”
“Actually,” Alex replied, and while his face was sober, I got the distinct impression that he enjoyed telling me, “at least two of them were Legionaries, and I saw one of them with his identity disc outside his tunic, so at least he’s one of them who did a full enlistment.”
“Fuck me,” I muttered, and I was forced to acknowledge, “that changes things.” Something else occurred to me, and I asked Demeter, “How strictly is the curfew observed? And,” I confess my heart was in my throat, “does the 22nd mount roving guard patrols at night?”
The 22nd Legion has been the only Legion stationed in all of Egypt for well more than twenty years, and as I mentioned, there is no Praetor, so the Legion is commanded by the Praefectus Augustalus, and I did know that his name was Gaius Galerius, although this was all I knew about the man.
“Yes, there is a curfew, and yes the Roman Legion here has patrols out in the city. But,” Demeter held up a hand, clearly seeing that I was about to explode, “they do not go into the Rhakotis unless there is trouble, Centurion. It’s another of the…arrangements that have been made with the citizens here. Fortunately, the Rhakotis is only a few blocks from the city end of the Heptastadion.”
This was at least better than I had feared, but it also meant that nothing could go wrong to the point where an alarm would be raised. It also convinced me that I needed more help than I planned.
By the end of the first night watc
h, we had hammered out a plan, one that bore little resemblance to my original idea of essentially walking in, knocking Aviola over the head, and walking out with him slung over my shoulder. I still would be the one carrying Aviola, and I had already prevailed on Demeter to have one of his crewman skilled in such thing to make a large sack, using the canvas all ships carry to repair sails, which I would be putting Aviola in. Not, I was aware, that it was much of a disguise; essentially anyone with eyes and a modicum of sense who spotted me would think, “There is a large man carrying another man in a sack over his shoulder,” but it was the best we could do, and I hoped that in a city like Alexandria, it would not be altogether unusual to see. One sticking point, and what quickly became a quarrel between Demeter and me, our first real disagreement of the entire voyage, was my absolute insistence that we did not kill the two men Alex had identified as Romans.
“You do not know they are Romans!” Demeter argued. “And we cannot afford to leave anyone behind that might identify us, Centurion! You,” he pointed directly at me, “are easy to identify, even with a beard and not wearing your soldier’s tunic!” When I still demurred, he persisted, “The man Alexandros saw could have won that in a game of dice!”
I had been irritated, but now I was getting angry, and I sensed the others shifting nervously as I crossed the single pace between us to look down on Demeter.
“No Roman Legionary who served a full enlistment would gamble away that disc,” I said coldly.
Unfortunately, Demeter did the worst thing he could do under the circumstances, which was to snort dismissively and sneer, “I have seen almost as many old Legionaries who were drunkards who would sell their mothers as I have seen old whores.”
Even as my hand shot out to grab a fistful of his tunic, there was a part of me that reminded myself that it had been earlier in the day he had learned of Lykos’ betrayal; that was the only reason that I did not throw Demeter into the wall of the cabin, but I still lifted him bodily so that we were looking each other eye to eye.
