M. Scott - Rome - The Emperor's spy

She needed to speak and could not until Ajax spoke to her, and he had not done so yet, except once, at the cottage to ask her if she needed a hand to mount, and then to speak directions in single words that she didn’t need. She wanted to ask how he knew the way to Ostia, too, and couldn’t.

The ship he had pointed to was not the greatest of those swaying at anchor in the bowl-shaped harbour, but far from the least. Lean and racy, it looked good enough to outsail most of those there, to cut through the waves rather than having to roll over their crests as had the ship that had borne them all to Alexandria so long ago.

A man sat on a fisherman’s stool nearby. She wouldn’t have noticed him, but that he stood and shaded his eyes, looking towards them, and then waved.

She said, ‘Who is it that waits?’

‘My mother’s brother.’

‘He looks like a Roman.’ From a distance, Hannah thought he was not unlike a somewhat older Pantera, but taller, with longer, blacker hair that shone like a raven’s wing in the sun.

‘He served with the legions for many years,’ Ajax said.

His tone was too even. ‘You don’t like him?’ Hannah asked.

‘I don’t know.’ For the first time that morning, he sounded human. ‘It wasn’t only my sister’s dreams that sent me here; Valerius’ dreams of many nights mirrored hers and it was by his leave that I came. By his order, you might say. Very little happens amongst our people now without his blessing.’

‘I find it hard to imagine you taking orders from any man.’

Once, Hannah could have said that and they could have laughed at it together, seeing a truth that applied to both of them. Now, it sounded like an embarrassing attempt to curry favour.

Ajax ignored it. ‘When I left Britain, I would have said that, while I respected him, I would not have grieved at news of his death. Today, I find that I’m glad to see him.’ He smiled, not at her. ‘Some good has come of this, then.’

‘Ajax, stop.’ Hannah put her hand on his arm. He braced against her, but did slow his horse. The man, Valerius, let his hand fall and sat down again.

Hannah said, ‘I won’t say I regret last night because that would be untrue. But it wasn’t…’

Throughout the eleven-mile ride, Hannah had rehearsed this. Under his bright hawk’s gaze, she lost her tongue. Gathering herself was an act of will.

On a taken breath, she said, ‘It wasn’t an ending. Unless you want it to be. I can ride away now and we can never see each other again. But if you want that, it might be best if I didn’t come to meet your mother’s brother.’

‘And then Pantera can meet you at the place you have arranged. After he has delivered Math.’ Ajax’s face was blank as polished stone. The morning sun marked out the bruises of the night, the burns on his cheek, the welts where he had been struck, but not a whisper of anger or of grief. Either would have been better than this.

‘I haven’t arranged anything with Pantera,’ she said. ‘He may be detained in Rome, or he may join us on the ship. I don’t have any more idea than you do.’

‘But do you want him to be on the ship? Does he? We’re travelling beyond Gaul. The voyage won’t take nearly as long as it took to get to Rome from Alexandria although it may seem like it for a while. In my experience, ships can become… crowded after the first days.’

‘We managed before.’ She sounded like a child and could do nothing about it.

‘But Pantera wasn’t with us on either voyage. In fact, we have never been all three together for long. You have had my company or his. Only in the Temple of the Oracle under the Serapeum at Alexandria did you truly have us both.’

‘I don’t think that counts.’

‘I don’t think so either.’ No softening showed in the marble stillness of his face, but his voice became unbearably gentle. ‘You had to choose, Hannah. Neither of us could do it for you. And you have. We all must live with that.’

‘Is there no going back?’ In full daylight, her world had become dark.

He shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. Among my people… it would be different. In the roundhouse, men and women join for love or lust, a child is made, and perhaps by the time the child is born the man has gone and the child is reared by a man she names father who was not her sire. But we are not in the roundhouse now and you have not lived like that. Pantera, I think, would not share you. And if I am honest, I would find it hard. Some stay with their first love for life. I think I would be one such.’

He lifted his hand from the reins. His horse took a step forward. ‘You should go,’ he said. ‘I will ride down to meet my mother’s brother and let him know that at least one part of the dreaming came to pass. We will each remember that we parted with courage. It is best that way.’

Hannah’s breath was searing her chest. She heard horses on the road behind, and prayed as hard as she had ever done, to the god in whom Hypatia believed, that it was who she thought it was.

To Ajax, she said, ‘Which part of the dream will be lost?’

‘The part which said that I would return to the care of my family bringing with me the other half of my heart, and that I would be father to the child conceived in Rome.’

She counted four horses. Ajax must have heard them, too — he could hear a fly alight on a leaf a mile away. She made her own mare stand still.

‘That wasn’t your sister’s dream,’ she said. ‘You told me she dreamed only of Math.’

‘Graine is eight years old. And she has reasons of her own for not dreaming the making of a child. In that detail, her dreams were different from Valerius’, but in all other respects they were identical. And you have what you wanted. We are no longer alone.’ Ajax closed his eyes. She thought she heard him speak a prayer, or an oath, but not with her ears, only with her mind.

Presently, without opening his eyes, he said, ‘Seneca’s leading: he leans to the left and unbalances his horse. Pantera, just behind, is exhausted close to the point of incapacity, but not quite there yet. Math, as ever, rides as if his passion gave the horse wings. He’s sad now. He has left his chariot horses behind in Rome under Nero’s care.’

‘And the fourth rider?’ Hannah asked. ‘Is it Shimon?’

‘Not Shimon. Someone lighter than him, with more facility on a horse. If I had to guess, I’d say it was the guard who was with Pantera through last night.’ Ajax spun his horse slowly on its haunches and looked at her properly at last. ‘Shall we find out?’

Math saw Hannah first; since the last milestone, he had been searching the horizon for the sight of black hair and her smile beneath it. Coming round the final bend, he saw her cast sharp against the deep blue sea behind, with the sun spinning her hair to gold and sparking off a fragment of metal at her belt. She was too far away to see her face, but he knew from the set of her shoulders that she was unhappy.

Pantera saw them too. He murmured ‘ Mithras ’ in a way Math had not heard before. His horse broke stride with the word then quickened straight after; he was always a man to face his own terrors.

Mergus, who had travelled all the way at Pantera’s side, kept pace as if he were already bound to Pantera’s shadow. Math let his own horse have its head, cantering on the firm road. Seneca swore by a haphazard assortment of other gods, and followed.

The old man hated riding; anyone could see that, but nothing short of death would have stopped him coming to the docks to see Math depart. At least, that was what he had said when he brought them their horses; not the four chariot colts, they must be left in Rome, but good riding horses, given by a tribune Pantera knew.