John Roberts - The Princess and the Pirates

“Gabinius arranged the funeral,” I pointed out, “and I am just a visiting military officer. The dining arrangements seem to be punctilious.” Gabinius was using the practice to put me in my place, but I determined to settle the matter later. For now a united front was called for. “Where are lone and the priestesses of Aphrodite?” I asked, to change the subject.

“With the Aphrodisia only days away,” Alpheus explained, “they may not attend a funeral or enter a house of mourning. They would be ritually unclean, and the festival would have to be canceled for the year. It would be a terrible portent for the whole island.”

“And this island has had all the bad luck it can handle,” I said, “between Roman annexation, the pirates, and the copper trade, which has desolated large parts of it.”

“Ah, you know how the island has been ruined by mining?” Alpheus said.

“I’ve heard something of it,” I hedged.

“But it made the place rich,” Flavia pointed out. “It is the special genius of Rome,” I said, feeling the wine a bit myself and growing expansive, “that we understand the proper path to wealth.”

“What is that?” Alpheus asked. I had the distinct impression that he was humoring me.

“The way to get rich is not by ruining your own land to sell your resources abroad. Instead, you conserve your own land and go plunder somebody else’s wealth.” Flavia laughed like a jackass. Even Gabinius, on the temple porch, heard and glared in our direction. Well, his friend had just died. I tried to keep a straight face while he was looking my way.

When we had all gorged and swilled to repletion, people rose from their tables and began to circulate. Evening was drawing on and torches were brought out to illuminate the central part of the city. It was a great extravagance, but it is with these touches of excess that we hope to be remembered after we die.

Flavia, Alpheus, and I were fast friends by now, at least until the wine wore off; and like many others we began to walk off dinner, trying to make room for the sweets that had been brought out as the last course. At the funeral of Scipio Africanus, sweets were served and the extravagance was remembered for generations. His was a more austere time, and the island of Cyprus had access to such luxuries in abundance.

I met some of Flavia’s friends, a number of whom seemed to be as debauched as she. Alpheus did a bit of business, arranging to compose songs for festivals in other towns. We came to a table set up on a side street off the main plaza and I stopped, my jaw dropping in shock. “What are you doing here?” I demanded.

Ion looked back at me, not at all dismayed. “All the resident foreigners in the city were invited to the banquet, Senator, just like you.” Looking along the table, I saw the crews of my ships, my marines, and the hired mercenaries.

“You were to be at the ships, ready to sail on the instant!” I yelled. “What are we to do if there is news of an attack?”

He looked me over. “Do you really think you’re in any shape to lead us?”

“I could be carried to the ships and sober up on the voyage out!” I told him. “How I get into fighting shape is my business, not yours! What are you laughing at?” This last was addressed to Alpheus and Flavia, who seemed unreasonably amused by my embarrassment.

“Suppose the pirates were to strike the city right now!” Flavia whooped. “How would it sound in the Forum, when Pompey’s men spread the word that Metellus and his whole crew were gorged and besotted at the banquet tables when the enemy came calling!”

“If Themistocles and his men had been like this the night before Salamis,” Alpheus put in, “I’d be composing verses to Ahura-Mazda in Persian right now!”

“No one attacks at night,” Ion asserted, refilling his cup. “We’ll be ready to sail at dawn, and a sailor who can’t put to sea with a hangover is a poor excuse for a seaman anyway.”

“Well, not much to be done about it now,” I said, my indignation running out like wine from a punctured skin. Just be ready to sail at first light.”

“Let’s be away from here,” Flavia urged, pressing a great deal of soft flesh against my side. “It’s noisy in this place. My litter is somewhere around here. Let’s go find it. Come along, Decius.” There it was: the praenomen.

I looked for Alpheus and saw him making a discreet exit. The man was the soul of diplomacy. Joining Flavia in some secluded nook seemed like a fine idea, which shows the condition I was in. Abruptly, the soft flesh pressing against me was replaced by hard muscle on both sides.

“Why, here you are, Captain!” said Ariston, taking one arm in a steely grip.

“Better come along with us,” Hermes said, gripping the other. “Tomorrow comes early, as you keep reminding me.” He turned to Flavia. “My lady, we have to get the master to bed.”

She looked him over, then she gave Ariston an even longer look, up and down. “That sounds like an excellent idea. Why don’t we all find a place to relax away from this crowd? I know a house just two streets away that provides all the amenities we could wish.”

Hermes leaned close to my ear and whispered, “Julia could be here tomorrow.” That did it. He might as well have cast me into icy water.

“Flavia,” I said, “much as I appreciate your generous offer, duty comes first for an officer of the Senate and People. I must be ready to sail at daylight.”

She looked at me with great disfavor. “I had hoped better of you, Decius.” She turned and walked away. I sighed after her twitching, Coan-veiled buttocks.

“There goes a shipwreck in woman’s form,” said Ariston. “Come along, Captain. Plenty more where that one came from and much better time for them than tonight.”

My two faithful if somewhat insubordinate followers hoisted me off to my quarters.

“Up!” somebody shouted. “Get up and get dressed!”

“Why?” I asked, not entirely sure where I was. I was fairly certain that I wasn’t in Rome, but that left a lot of territory to be considered. Gaul? Alexandria? Somehow I felt not. I knew it would come to me, given time.

Hermes yanked me to my feet and pulled my military tunic down over my shaky body. I was on military duty, that was clear enough. “What is going on?” Even to my own ears I sounded querulous as a used-up old man.

“The pirates have been seen!” Hermes said. “They sailed right past the harbor mouth, bold as purple-assed baboons!”

“Pirates!” I cried. “Thank the gods! For a moment there I thought the Gauls were attacking. Well, by all means, let’s go kill these pirates so I can get back to bed.”

Somehow Hermes got me fully dressed, armed, and halfway presentable and, accompanied by the redoubtable Ariston, we hurried down to the naval harbor.

Ion had the ships in the water and fully manned, although many of the men were cradling their heads or vomiting over the sides or collapsed at their benches. I clambered onto my ship and gave orders to push off. Cleopatra’s ship came smartly alongside.

“We have been waiting for you,” she said, seeming a bit indignant. “They went past about an hour ago, sailing southward. My own lookout spotted them.”

“Did you see them with your own eyes?” I asked.

“I did.”

“How did you get down here in time?”

“I slept on my ship, as you should have done! And I kept my crew here as well. No banqueting allowed. Now we will lose them!”

“Don’t scold me. I have a wife for that. How many ships?”

“Three.”

I tried to force rational thought through the fog within my thundering skull. “Just three? They must have split the fleet. All right, then. Oars out and let’s be after them. Timekeeper, as soon as we are in open water, I want you to set us a quick pace.”