between his teeth as he convulsed, blind.
All the red-eyed, stinking soldiers raised their heads at the tread of steps on the narrow rungs from the deck above. Anything unusual was seized upon to break the endless boredom and even the two who were feverish tried to see, though one fell back, exhausted.
It was the captain, who seemed almost to glow with clean skin and health compared to the men of the Accipiter. He was tall enough to have to duck his head as he entered the cell, accompanied by another man who carried a sword and a dagger ready to repel a sudden attack.
If his head hadn’t been pulsing its sullen sickness, Julius might have laughed at the precaution. The Romans had lost their strength, unable to exercise. It still amazed him how fast the muscles became weak without use. Cabera had shown them how to keep themselves strong by pulling against each other, but it didn’t seem to make much difference.
The captain breathed shallowly, his eyes taking in the full slop bucket. His face was tanned and creased from years of squinting against the glare of the sea. Even his clothes carried a fresh smell in with him and Julius ached to be out in the air and the open spaces, so powerfully that his heart hammered with the need.
‘We have reached a safe port. In six months, perhaps you will be put down some lonely night, free and paid for.’ The captain paused to enjoy the effect of his words. Just the mention of an ending to their imprisonment had every man’s gaze fastened to him.
‘The amounts to ask for, now that is a delicate problem,’ he continued, his voice as pleasant as if he addressed a group of men he knew well instead of soldiers who would tear him apart with their teeth if they had the strength.
‘It must not be so much that your loved ones cannot pay. We have no use for those. Yet somehow I don’t believe you will be truthful if I ask you to tell me how much your families will bear for you. Do you understand?’
‘We understand you well enough,’ Gaditicus said.
‘It is best if we reach a compromise, I think. You will each tell me your name, rank and wealth and I will decide you are lying and add whatever I think would be right. It is like a game, perhaps.’
No one answered him, but silent vows were made to their gods and the hatred was clear enough in their expressions.
‘Good. Let us start then.’ He pointed to Suetonius, his gaze drawn as the young man scratched at the lice that left red sores on all their bodies.
‘Suetonius Prandus. I am a watch officer, the lowest rank. My family have nothing to sell,’ Suetonius replied, his voice thick and hoarse with lack of use.
The captain squinted at him, weighing him up. Like the others there was nothing to inspire dreams of wealth in his thin frame. Julius realised the captain was simply enjoying himself at their expense. Taking pleasure from having the arrogant officers of Rome reduced to bargaining with an enemy. Yet what choice did they have? If the pirate demanded too much and their families could not borrow the money or, worse, refused to, then a quick death would follow. It was hard not to play the game.
‘I think, for the lowest rank, I will ask for two talents – five hundred in gold.’
Suetonius spluttered, though Julius knew his family could pay that easily, or ten times that amount.
‘Gods, man. They do not have the money!’ Suetonius said, his unkempt body lending the feel of truth to the words.
The captain shrugged. ‘Pray to those gods that they can raise it or over the side you go with a bit of chain to hold you down.’
Suetonius sank back in apparent despair, though Julius knew he would consider himself to have outwitted the pirate.
‘You, Centurion? Are you from a rich family?’ the captain asked.
Gaditicus glared at him before speaking. ‘I am not, but nothing I say will make any difference to you,’ he growled before looking away.
The captain frowned in thought. ‘I think … yes, for a centurion, a captain no less, like myself … it would be an insult if I asked less than twenty talents. That would be about five thousand in gold, I think. Yes.’
Gaditicus ignored him, though he seemed to sag slightly in despair.
‘What is your name?’ the captain asked Julius.
He too considered ignoring the man, but then his headache throbbed and a spike of anger rose in him.
‘My name is Julius Caesar. I command a twenty. I am also the head of a wealthy house.’
The captain’s eyebrows rose and the others muttered amongst themselves in disbelief. Julius exchanged a glance with Gaditicus, who shook his head in a clear message.
‘Head of a house! I am honoured to meet you,’ the captain said with a sneer. ‘Perhaps twenty talents would be right for you as well.’
‘Fifty,’ Julius said, straightening his back as he spoke.
The captain blinked, his easy manner vanishing.
‘That is twelve thousand pieces of gold,’ he said, awed out of complacency.
‘Make it fifty,’ Julius replied firmly. ‘When I have found you and killed you, I will need funds. I am far from home, after all.’ Despite the pain in his head, he mustered a savage grin.
The captain recovered quickly from his 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
