surprise. ‘You are the one that had his head broken. You must have left your wits on my decks. I will ask for fifty, but if it does not come, the sea is deep enough to hold you.’
‘It is not wide enough to hide you from me, whoreson,’ Julius replied. ‘I will nail your men to a line of crosses all along the coast. Your officers I may have strangled out of mercy. You have my word on it.’
The soldiers erupted into a shout of cheers and laughter at the captain, who paled with anger. For a moment, it looked as if he would step further into the cell to strike Julius, but he mastered himself and looked around scornfully at the baying men.
‘I will set high prices on all of you. See if you cheer then!’ he shouted over the jeers as he left with his crewman, who locked the door securely behind him, shaking his head in disbelief at Julius through the bars.
When they were sure there was no one to hear, Suetonius rounded on Julius.
‘What did you do that for, you fool? He’ll beggar our families for your stupid pride!’
Julius shrugged. ‘He’ll set the prices at what he thinks he can get, just as he would have before coming down here, though he might ask fifty for me, out of spite.’
‘Caesar’s right,’ Gaditicus said, ‘he was just playing with us.’ He chuckled suddenly. ‘Fifty! Did you see his face? That was Rome in you, lad.’ His laughter broke off into coughing, but he still smiled.
‘I think you were wrong to bait him,’ Suetonius continued and one or two of the others muttered agreement.
‘He killed Romans and sank Accipiter and you think we should play his little games? I’d spit on you if I had any,’ Julius snapped. ‘I meant it too. Once I’m free, I will find him and cut him down. Even if it takes years, he will see my face before he dies.’
Suetonius scrambled at him, raging, but was held by Pelitas as he tried to get past.
‘Sit down, you idiot,’ Pelitas growled, shoving him back. ‘There’s no point fighting amongst ourselves and he’s barely recovered as it is.’
Suetonius subsided with a scowl that Julius ignored, scratching idly under his splint as he thought. His eyes took in the sick men lying in damp, stinking straw.
‘This place will kill us,’ he said.
Pelitas nodded.
‘We know they guard the top of the steps with two men. We’d have to get past them. Now we’re docked, it might be worth a go?’
‘Maybe,’ Julius said, ‘but they’re careful. Even if we could dig the hinges out of the door, the deck hatch is bolted from above every time someone comes in here, even Cabera. I don’t see how we could break it fast enough to get out before there’s a crowd waiting for us.’
‘We could use Suetonius’ head,’ Pelitas said. ‘A few sharp blows and one of them would give way. Either way, we win.’ Julius chuckled with him.
The following night, one of the sick men died. The captain allowed Cabera to drag out the body and dump it over the side without ceremony. The mood of those left sank towards complete despair.
‘I am surrounded by women,’ Tubruk said cheerfully as Aurelia, Cornelia and Clodia entered, bringing life and energy into the quiet triclinium. In the weeks that had followed Fercus’ bringing him inside the gates and passing the bill of sale into his untied hands, Tubruk had regained much of the peace he had lost in the city. Coming together each morning to eat had become a ritual for the four of them, and Tubruk had begun to look forward to the light breakfast. Aurelia was always at her best in the mornings and, if he was any judge, there was true friendship between Cornelia, Clodia and herself. The house had not seen laughter since before the slave riots and they lifted Tubruk’s spirits.
His face had healed with time, though he bore a new scar over his left eye to remember the ordeal. He recalled the relief he’d felt when he first saw the legionaries dressed in black on the city streets, a uniform the city would see for a full year of mourning at the Dictator’s death. Even then, the dark cloth had seemed inappropriate to the mood of Rome. Fercus had told him there was a fresh breeze blowing through the Senate, with Cinna and Pompey working to restore the old Republic and once again lay the ghosts of kings that Sulla had brought back to the streets.
The estate manager travelled only rarely into the city now, and always with caution. He thought the chances were good that he would never be linked with the poisoning of Rome’s leader, but it took only one accusation and the Senate would tear the estate apart looking for evidence. If they found Fercus and tortured him, the broker would give Tubruk to them, he was sure. The man had a family he loved, and honour and friendship crumbled in the face of that. Still, it had been the right thing to do and they had won, even though he would never know a day of complete peace again while Sulla’s friends and supporters searched for the assassin.
A month after his return to the estate, Tubruk had put on a heavy cloak and ridden to the city to make offerings at the temples of Mars and Vesta in thanks for the life of Cornelia. He had also prayed for the souls of Casaverius and the guard he had killed at the gate.
Cornelia had her daughter sitting on her lap and Clodia was reaching out at intervals to tickle the baby under her armpits and make her laugh. Even Aurelia smiled at the childish giggles that came from Julia, and Tubruk spread honey on his bread with a mixture of emotions churning in him. It was good that Aurelia had found a little of the old happiness. She had been too long surrounded by stern men. When she had first held her granddaughter, she had cried without sobbing, tears falling from her.
Yet he was sure she was failing and the thought brought him pain as he saw she had not eaten with the others. Gently, Tubruk pushed a plate of fresh, crusty bread over to her side of the low table and their eyes met for a second. She took a piece and tore a sliver from it, chewing it slowly as he watched. She had said that eating brought on her fits, and left her sick and vomiting. There was no appetite, and before he had watched her closely she had been losing weight alarmingly and hardly taking anything in.
She was wasting before him and no matter what he said when they were alone, she would only weep and say she could not eat. There was no space in her for food.
Clodia tickled the child and was rewarded with a sudden belch of milky vomit. All three women rose as one to help clean it up and Tubruk rose with them, feeling excluded and minding not a bit.
‘I wish her father were here to see her grow,’ Cornelia said wistfully.
‘He will be, love,’ Tubruk said. ‘They have to keep those they ransom alive or the trade would stop. It’s just a business deal to them. Julius will come home and now Sulla is dead, he can start again.’
She seemed to take more hope from his words than he felt himself. No matter what happened, Tubruk knew that even if Julius did make it back, he would not be the same after his experiences. The young lad who had taken ship to escape Sulla had died. Who would return was yet to be seen. Life would be harder for all of them after having to pay such a high ransom. Tubruk had sold some of the land of the estate to Suetonius’ family, who had bargained cruelly over the
