John Roberts - The Princess and the Pirates

He clasped Hermes by the shoulder. “Hermes! Hasn’t this vicious tyrant manumitted you yet? I thought I’d see you in a toga by now.”

“I want to sell him,” I said, “but no one will make an offer. Come along, I’ll show you our quarters.” I hoped he did not catch the look in Hermes’s eyes. Hermes had worshipped Milo since boyhood, and he was as appalled as I but less schooled in hiding it. Julia was not traveling alone, naturally, so I left some men to escort her slaves and baggage to the base when they had it unloaded.

“I am so glad we had such wonderful sailing weather,” Julia said, as we walked toward the base. “I was afraid we wouldn’t be here in time for the Aphrodisia. This is perfect timing. Have you visited the temple?”

“I have. I’ll take you to see it tomorrow and introduce you to the high priestess lone herself.”

“Wonderful! I so want to-” she paused as she saw the cluster of plain, functional, military buildings ahead of us. “Decius, I thought you would have engaged more suitable lodgings for us. Do you expect me to live among sailors and marines?”

“Actually, my dear, until a few days ago I was living in the governor’s mansion and looking forward to introducing you to its luxuries.”

“Then why are you not living there now?” I knew that tone all too well.

“Actually, my sweet, there has been a bit of a complication. The governor is dead. Murdered, in fact; and since I might well be next, I thought more secure accommodations were in order.”

“Murdered?” Milo said happily. He cared nothing for luxury, but he liked excitement. At least that much had not changed.

“I had hoped this would be a more productive posting,” Julia said. “You are getting too old and dignified for this sort of squabbling among criminals and cutthroats. You are one of Rome’s rising men, in line for the next praetorship election. You should leave investigative duties to your subordinates. What have you been training Hermes for all these years anyway? Give him his freedom and let him go around poking into dangerous places among low company.”

“If you two don’t stop this, the boy is going to start getting ideas.” I knew I was on safer ground though. I had her hooked. Despite her patrician protestations, she loved this sort of thing. She was, after all, a Caesar; and politics played for life-and-death stakes excited her above all things. Most Roman women were utterly shut out from this masculine arena, but I sometimes let her help me with my investigations, another of my little eccentricities.

As we reached higher ground overlooking the harbor, she paused and pointed. “What is that beautiful ship? We passed it coming in to the anchorage.”

“That’s Cleopatra’s yacht. It’s part of my little fleet, actually.”

“Cleopatra? Ptolemy’s youngest daughter? Isn’t she a bit young for a naval command, besides being female?”

“Royalty do things differently, and I desperately needed another ship. But she may have killed the governor, so be careful around her.”

“Decius, why can’t you ever lead a normal life?”

I showed her the austere suite of rooms I had commandeered. In other times they had been used by the Roman naval commander when he was on the island. They were comfortable enough, but the government spent little on amenities for military officers, who were expected to provide for themselves.

“I want to take a look at your ships, Decius,” Milo said, beginning to show the old nervous energy that kept him forever in motion.

“Go ahead,” I told him. “I’ll join you shortly.”

“My lady,” Hermes said, when he was gone, “has Titus Milo been ill?”

“I was wondering the same thing myself,” I said. “How was he acting on the voyage?”

She looked wistful. “I’ve never liked Milo,” she began, “and made no secret of it; but now I almost feel sorry for him. Strife and struggle for power were the breath of life to him, and he almost had the laurels in his grasp when it all came crashing down around him. He rose from nothing, just a common street thug. He would have been consul if it hadn’t been for the murder of Clodius. Now he is an exile. His gang is scattered, and with no family he has no support in the Senate. He was Cicero’s man, and Cicero’s star is fading fast.”

“Surely he can expect to be recalled,” I protested. “When I am praetor, I’ll exert pressure on the tribunes to …”

“There is no chance, Decius,” she said gently. “Your family’s power is fading, too, and you know it. Caesar is to be the new power. When he returns from Gaul, he will be dictator in all but name. And Clodius was Caesar’s man. Caesar will not forgive Milo, not even for you, and Caesar truly likes you. Fausta has left Milo, did you know that?”

“No, but it does not surprise me. Milo in the ascendant was the prize catch of all the men in Rome for Fausta. Milo descending is of no interest to her. She’ll make a play for Caesar next. You might advise Calpurnia to have someone test her food and drink from now on.”

“Fausta is not that ambitious and cold-blooded, but neither is she going to be married to a failure and be exiled from Rome. Not the Dictator’s daughter.”

“You think that is what’s turning him into an old man before his time? It isn’t some inner illness eating him away?”

“For Milo,” she said, “it is the same thing.”

That evening, when Julia and her girls were settled into their quarters and Milo was satisfied with the ships, we had dinner outdoors, enjoying the cool, offshore breeze. Over dinner I told them of everything that had happened so far. Of course, I left out certain small details concerning Flavia. Julia, as always, was most interested in my strange dream. Like most Romans, she loved portents, omens, and dreams. Milo barely bothered to hide his contempt. He had no use for intangible things, although, like all politicians, he was happy to use them for his own purposes. He had been known to hold up debates and votes endlessly by claiming to have seen bad omens.

“We need to commence social activity immediately,” Julia said. “I want to see Cleopatra. She may be a scheming Ptolemy with dynastic ambitions, but she’s little more than a girl and I’ll sound out her intentions.”

“She’s young,” I cautioned, “but she’s no girl. It won’t be easy to match wits with her.”

“Have you forgotten? I am Julius Caesar’s niece. She’s eager to know all about him. I’ll wring her out like a sponge. And I want to meet that banker and his scandalous wife.”

My scalp prickled. Had I let something slip? “Why?”

“This Nobilior is a rich eques, a banker, and was a friend of Silvanus. Corruption always involves money, so he’ll know what the governor was up to, and his wife will know what her husband is up to. She may like to play with sailors when she is away from home, but she is very aware of her social position and will want to better it. She’ll be flattered by the attentions of a patrician lady from the Republic’s oldest family.” Julia could always strip away the dross and get down to the essentials. And she was more than willing to make shameless use of her pedigree.

“Excellent plan,” I said, although with some reservations I did not voice. “We’ll commence the social assault in the morning, as long as I don’t get a pirate alarm and have to sail to Bithynia or some such place.”

“Leave the pirate hunting to me for a few days,” Milo said. “I’ll whip these Greek sluggards into shape. You’ve been too soft on the rowers. I know every malingerer’s trick in their trade. I’ll double the speed they’ve been giving you. They’ve been rowing you like bargemen, not man-o’-war’s men. I’ll pop the whip on those carpenters, too. Your catapults and ballistas should have been finished days ago. They’re dragging out the job because you’re paying them by the day. They’re not laborers; they’re supposed to be craftsmen, paid by the job. I’ll break a few fingers and teach them wisdom.”