leaned over to watch him surface and laughed with pleasure as he pulled himself back in, gleaming in the sunlight like his fish. He pulled his net out of the water and waved to her.
‘What a wonderful beginning,’ she breathed. The captain muttered something unintelligible.
The crewmen who held the fish brought wooden clubs out of a deck locker and, before Servilia realised what they were doing, brought them down on the shining heads with a grim thumping sound. The shining eyes disappeared under the force of the blows, knocked inside the head as blood spattered over the deck. Servilia grimaced as a spot of it touched her arm. The seamen were clearly enjoying themselves, suddenly more vital than they had been at any point in the voyage from Ostia. It was as if they had come alive in the killing and they chuckled and joked with each other as they finished the grisly task.
When the last of the fish were dead, the deck was coated in their blood and tiny silver scales. Servilia watched as the seamen threw a canvas bucket on a line into the sea and sluiced the planks clean.
‘The port is tight with ships, madam,’ the captain said at her shoulder, squinting against the sun. ‘I’ll take her in as close as I can, but we’ll have to anchor for a few hours until there’s a place on the dock.’ Servilia turned to look again at Valentia, suddenly longing to be on land again.
‘As you say, Captain,’ she murmured.
The mountains behind the port seemed to fill the horizon, green and red against the dark blue of the sky. Her son, Brutus, was somewhere over them and seeing him after so long would be wonderful. Strangely, her stomach tightened almost to an ache when she thought of the young man who was his friend. She wondered how the years had changed him and touched her hair unconsciously, smoothing it back where it had fallen in tendrils, made damp by the sea air.
Evening had muted the heat of the sun into grey softness by the time the Roman trade ship was able to ease between the lines of anchored shipping and take her place on the dock. Servilia had brought three of her most beautiful girls with her and they joined her on deck with the crew as they threw ropes to the dockworkers and used the steering oars to bring them safe against the massive wooden beams of the side. It was a delicate manoeuvre and the captain showed his skill in its neatness, as he communicated with the mate at the bow with a series of hand signals and calls.
There was a general air of excitement and the young girls Servilia had brought laughed and joked as the workers on the docks caught sight of them and called ribald comments. Servilia let them preen without a word; all three were the rarity in her business who had not yet lost the love for the work. In fact, Angelina, the youngest, was constantly falling in love with her customers and few months went by without some romantic offering to buy her for marriage. The price always seemed to surprise them and Angelina would sulk for days before someone else took her fancy.
The girls were dressed as modestly as the daughters of any great house. Servilia had taken enormous care with their safety, knowing that even a short sea journey gave a sense of freedom to men that could have caused trouble. Their dresses were cut to obscure the lines of their young bodies, though there were more provocative garments in the trunks Servilia had brought along. If the letters Brutus had sent were correct, there would be a market and the three girls would be the first in the new house she would buy. The sailors who grunted and complained under the heavy trunks would have been shocked at the weight of gold that had been split between them.
Servilia’s perusal of the docks was interrupted as Angelina shrieked suddenly. Servilia’s sharp glance took in the sailor hurrying away and Angelina’s pleased outrage, before she turned back. They had reached land not a moment too soon, she thought.
The captain shouted for the dockworkers to make the ropes fast and the crew cheered the announcement, already anticipating the pleasures of the port. Servilia caught the captain’s eye and he crossed the deck to her, suddenly more genial than she had grown to expect.
‘We won’t break out the cargo until tomorrow morning now,’ he said. ‘I can recommend a few places if you want to go ashore and there’s a cousin of mine who’ll rent you as many carts as you want, at a good price.’
‘Thank you, Captain. It’s been a great pleasure.’ Servilia smiled at him, pleased to see a blush start high on his cheeks. Angelina was not the only one with a circle of admirers on the ship, she thought with some pleasure.
The captain cleared his throat and raised his chin to speak again, looking suddenly nervous.
‘I will be dining alone later, if you would like to join me. There’ll be fresh fruit sent to the ship, so it’ll be better than we’re used to.’
Servilia laid a hand on his arm and felt the heat of his skin beneath his tunic.
‘It will have to be another time, I’m afraid. I’d like to be moving by dawn. Would you be able to have my trunks taken off first? I’ll speak to the legion to arrange a guard on it until the carts are loaded.’
The captain nodded, trying to hide his disappointment. His first mate had told him the woman was a whore, but he had the intense impression that offering her money to stay with him would lead to an awful humiliation. For a moment he looked so terribly lonely that Servilia considered letting Angelina raise his spirits. The little blonde loved older men. They were always so desperately grateful, and for such little effort. Looking at him, Servilia guessed he would probably refuse the offer. Men of his years often wanted the company of a mature woman as much as the physical pleasures and Angelina’s earthy frankness would only embarrass him.
‘Your trunks will be first on the dock, madam. It has been a pleasure,’ he said, looking wistfully after her as she went to climb the steps onto the dock. A number of his crew had gathered in case the younger women were unsteady crossing the rail and his eyebrows drew together as he considered them. After a moment of thought, he followed Servilia, knowing instinctively that he should be there to help the men.
Julius was deep in work when the guard knocked on the door to his rooms.
‘What is it?’
The legionary looked unusually nervous as he saluted.
‘I think you’d better come down to the gate, sir. You should see this.’
Raising his eyebrows, Julius followed the man down the steps and out into the powerful afternoon sun. There was a peculiar tension affecting the soldiers who clustered around the gate, and as they parted for him Julius noticed one or two with the strained faces of men trying not to smile. Their amusement and the heat seemed to feed the prickling anger that had become the foundation of his waking hours.
Beyond the open gate was a string of heavily laden carts, their drivers lightly coated by the dust of the road. A full twenty of the Tenth had taken station to the fore and rear of the odd procession. With narrowed eyes, Julius recognised the officer as one who had been dispatched on port duty the previous day and his temper frayed still further. Like the carts, the legionaries were coated in enough dust to show they had walked every step of the way.
Julius glared at them.
‘I do not recall giving orders for you to escort trade goods from the coast,’ he snapped. ‘There had better be an excellent reason for leaving your post and disobeying my orders. I cannot think of one myself, but perhaps you will surprise me.’
The officer paled slightly under the dust.
‘The lady, sir …’ he began.
‘What? What lady?’ Julius
