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  Germanicus gave me an astonished look. ‘Oh, you won’t have to walk! I have a far better way of getting you to Spain.’

  Chapter Eleven

  Aulus’ slave whipped the four horses of the quadriga as we turned a sharp bend of the Via Ostiensis, the far wheel lifting off the ground as our chariot slid over the loose dirt covering of one of Rome’s well-trodden roads down to the mouth of the river Tiber, to the great port of Ostia.

  ‘Steady on, Salah,’ Aulus screamed over to his slave, whilst hanging on grimly to the side of the chariot with white knuckles. ‘We need to arrive in one piece.’

  Salah half turned his head, not quite daring to take his eyes off the road. ‘You told me to go fast!’

  Aulus raised his arm in front of his face to shield himself from the onrushing wind. ‘Yes, but not kill us in the process. Is this how you drive my chariot when I’m not around?’ he asked accusingly.

  I was concerned by our breakneck speed too, but I wasn’t going to let Aulus slow us down; the fear of upsetting Livia superseded any worries about Salah’s chariot-driving skills. ‘Don’t you blame Salah for this. It’s your fault we’re late leaving Rome in the first place. I’ve never known you to be late for anything. Today is a bad day to start!’ I shouted.

  Aulus snapped back at me. ‘Well, you didn’t exactly give me much warning that I was about to embark on a dangerous mission to the back of beyond, did you?’

  My new lictor Blasius barked a laugh. ‘I thought you volunteered to join us? Spain’s an awful long way to go if you’re not sure?’

  The four of us were crammed onto Aulus’ quadriga chariot that only barely managed to fit us, together with the many bags that Aulus had insisted on bringing. We’d have never all fitted on one of the smaller two-horse chariots that most of Rome’s elite enjoyed taking out to the countryside for a ride. The large chariot had come in handy when it became clear that we were going to miss the boat that Germanicus and Livia had specifically requisitioned for us unless we travelled there on something fast, and this was definitely fast.

  We sped past an ox-cart, the heavy beasts of burden giving a great lowing of distress as we passed them, the oxen driver shouting out at us for spooking his animals. Aulus wasn’t impressed. ‘You see, you’re scaring the other road users!’

  I put my hand on Salah’s shoulder. ‘You just get us to our ship on time. Don’t worry about the other merchants.’

  Salah shook his head. ‘I’ll do my best, but it’s twenty miles to Ostia. It’s going to be a close-run thing.’

  I hung on and tried to curb my natural inclination to close my eyes. Two men and a mule quickly moved out of our way as they heard the loud clip of our four horses’ hooves come their way, their eyes popping as we whizzed past them.

  ‘Completely irresponsible,’ muttered Aulus, although I now noticed his comments were aimed at me, rather than his slave Salah.

  I wouldn’t have said it was easy to convince my sister’s husband to join us on this mission. He’d originally dismissed the idea out of hand and told me not to be so ridiculous. ‘Do I look like somebody cut out for adventures?’ he’d asked me in the Roman Forum where we’d met. Standing in his ill-fitting toga over his thin frame and the few remaining hairs on his bald pate blowing in the gentle breeze, it’d been hard to argue him round. But Germanicus’ promise of a role in the state apparatus as a jurist swung him over to my way of thinking, just as I’d known it would. The prospect of his lifetime ambition finally being fulfilled being too irresistible a prize to turn down. He’d known that if he’d not taken this opportunity, he was unlikely to ever get another.

  However, my decision to include Aulus in my plans hadn’t exactly delighted my sister, Antonia, who thought the whole ‘wild escapade’, as she called it, ill-conceived. She’d been busily scolding both me and Aulus for the past five days, as we tried to organise ourselves to make the long journey to Spain.

  I’d needed to travel to my mother’s villa, outside Rome, to tell her of my plans. She was still in the process of forgiving me for leaving for Germany the last time without saying goodbye, so I knew I couldn’t make the same mistake again. The farewell was difficult and she’d been full of useless advice on how to conduct myself in the provinces, but I’d been glad I’d done it.

  I’d also composed a letter to my father in Sicily, explaining my reasons for travelling to Spain. I skirted over the part about Flavus Arminius, concentrating on the court case of the Paulus brothers instead, and how this might help me join the Centumviral Court in time. I made sure I also dropped in the fact that my mission was fully endorsed by the imperial family – maybe finally I was doing something that my father would approve of, although I couldn’t be certain. I’m sure my father would find fault with my actions somehow.

  I’d then been introduced to Blasius, my new lictor, who Germanicus had found for me, a veteran who’d once served in Spain. He was in his early forties but still looked to be supremely fit, with the burly physique of a former centurion, whose service had also included many years in the Praetorians. He held all the self-confidence and competence that I’d expect from a former centurion, and seemed a good choice for this trip, so I’d taken him on. He now lounged on one side of the chariot, a slight grin on his craggy face, looking as if we were just taking a gentle ride down a country road rather than belting along one of the main thoroughfares from Rome on a speeding chariot hauled by four barely tamed stallions.

  ‘Why do you even own this chariot, Aulus? You don’t seem the sort to enjoy chariot racing?’ Blasius asked the lawyer he’d only just met.

  Aulus stood himself up straighter. ‘There’s nothing wrong with wanting to own an impressive chariot. I happen to enjoy my time with my horses, and a gentle ride with them is a nice way to relax when I’m not at court. However, I don’t appreciate them being ridden quite so hard!’ This last comment was directed at his slave rather than the former centurion.

  I gave my lictor a wink. ‘Besides, my sister loves a big chariot.’

  One of Antonia’s and Aulus’ surprising passions was for the chariot racing at the Circus Maximus. I was pretty sure that was the real reason behind Aulus owning this overpriced status symbol.

  Aulus gave a sniff. ‘That has nothing to do with it, and I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring her up again, I have only just given a tearful farewell to my lovely wife, someone who may never quite forgive me after this ill-advised trip of yours.’

  I winced and decided to drop the subject. My own farewell with Numeria hadn’t been much easier. The original plan had been to stay over in Ostia the night before our ship was due to sail, but Aulus had insisted on staying one more night in Rome to sort through and pack the various formulae that he thought might be useful for the case we were going to oversee. I was dubious that any of those blasted wooden sheaves could tell Aulus anything that he didn’t already know, but I’d found the temptation of staying one more night with Numeria too enticing to turn down.

  We’d made love late into the night, a long slow sharing of intimacy that felt all the more special knowing it would be our last time together for the foreseeable future. Tears had sprang to my eyes afterwards, knowing that I would be leaving her behind, going into untold danger without the comfort of having her near me once more.

  She lay next to me in the bed, stroking my face with one hand. She told me softly, ‘I’m sorry, Gaius. I’m sorry you feel you have to do this. I can’t pretend I’m happy with you going, because I’m not. The selfish side of me wants to keep you here with me and not let you leave for any reason.’

  I wiped away a tear and kissed her. ‘I must be mad to be leaving you. I can’t even understand why I’m going.’

  She smiled then. ‘You’re going because you have a big heart. You’re going because Flavus represents more to you than a half-remembered memory of a child in your youth. He’s all that remains of the life you once shared with Julius.’

  I didn’t like the sound of that one bit. ‘Then I�
�m a fool, as it’s almost certain that he was complicit in the treachery too.’

  Numeria shushed me. ‘Shhh … Gaius, don’t get angry. You don’t know that. That’s why you have to go. It will be the only way you’ll ever know for sure. You need to find the truth or you’ll forever wonder whether you could have done more.’

  I nodded but still insisted, ‘He’s probably as corrupt as his brother.’

  She ran her hands through my hair. ‘Possibly he is, and if that is the case, you need to stop him from inflicting the same hurt as Julius. But will you promise me just one thing, Gaius?’

  I looked at her earnestly. ‘Yes, of course.’

  She kissed me. ‘Don’t fill your heart with hate for him. Don’t give in to your anger. Find out the truth, but don’t let that anger consume you.’

  I looked into her eyes, and they reflected the moonlight coming through the bedroom window. ‘I will try, Numeria. But it is so hard after what his brother did.’

  ‘I know, Gaius, but please try. I couldn’t bear for that anger to change you. Please, do it for me.’

  One of the chariot’s wheels hit a loose cobble and brought me back to the present. The whole chariot gave a lurch to one side. It righted itself, but we were all flung hard against the opposite side. Aulus shouted at Salah, ‘Will you slow down! This is beyond ridiculous!’

  Blasius gave a great bellow of a laugh, and Salah complained, ‘Sorry, my lord, but it wasn’t my fault. Someone needs to tell the engineers about these loose paving stones.’

  We continued our wild flight down the old salt road that joined Ostia to Rome, upsetting other road users and having many near misses along the way. Fortunately, most of the traffic from the main port of Rome travelled to the city via boats on the river Tiber, but even so, as the day drew on, the number of other merchants increased, forcing us to slow our pace. Salah reined the four stallions in, much to the relief of Aulus, and continued at just a fast trot, weaving in and out of the other ox-carts, mules, and horse-drawn wagons that increased as we approached Ostia.

  It was very late in the morning by the time we neared the coast, the great sea port spread out in front of us, and in the distance I saw several ships sailing both in and out of the harbour. Most were large and wide cargo vessels that wallowed in the water loaded with wares, slowly creeping into the harbour with unfurled square sails. But I also saw a few of the lean and menacing warships, tracking forward by the strength of their oarsmen, multiple oar decks rowing in unison like a great millipede speeding across the waves. I felt a moment’s apprehension, realising that soon I’d be on one of those vessels setting off on Neptune’s perilous seas.

  ‘I might have problems bringing you up close to the gates,’ Salah told us. ‘There’s a lot of traffic coming out of the port heading up to Rome in time for nightfall.’

  Carts and wagons were not allowed in the Roman capital during the day, so most timed their travel to arrive in the evening – a trip that could take an ox-cart the entire day, despite Rome’s excellent roads. ‘We’re late as it is. Just get us as close as you can. We’ll have to travel the last part on foot.’

  Sure enough, once we neared the gate, a great queue of carts prevented our chariot getting any closer. We thanked Salah, who turned the chariot around and headed back to Rome, Aulus shouting at his back, ‘And drive more carefully on the way home! I don’t want a scratch on that chariot when I return!’

  I chided Aulus. ‘No time for that now, we need to run. The trierarchus will have wanted to leave by now.’ I picked up my small bag of belongings and one of Aulus’ bags of wooden sheaves. ‘Damn, they’re heavy! Why couldn’t you have sent these on ahead?’

  I’d sent my heaviest items – my armour being one – on ahead of me with the unit of Praetorian Guards we were planning on meeting at the harbourside. Aulus hadn’t the foresight to think that far ahead. ‘You know I only sorted through them last night. I wasn’t sure which ones would come in handy.’

  Blasius lifted up one and laughed. ‘So you brought them all instead?’

  It was my turn to laugh. ‘Trust me, this is nothing – you should see his house in Rome. Come on, no point in worrying about it now. Let’s get moving.’

  The three of us ran through the docks of Ostia without the normal decorum you’d expect of a quaestor and his lictor to travel – sweat pouring down our faces – as we struggled with Aulus’ heavy bags. We were dressed in tunics rather than the formal togas that we’d need for official functions, but even so, I doubted Blasius expected that his first task assigned by me was being a porter for his aide’s bags. There was nothing for it though. We’d never have been able to fit anyone else on the chariot, so the three of us weaved our way through the crowded streets and along the paved docks of the harbour. We saw the century of Praetorian Guards waiting patiently by the harbourside, alongside one of the larger and more ornate biremes that I guessed would be our vessel.

  I stopped to catch my breath before I approached the century of legionaries that were making up my guard. They stood at ease by the docks, smart dress and armour as shiny and polished as only the Praetorians could manage. Their kit was similar to that of any legionaries you might find around the empire, except for a few differences. They carried oval shields instead of the more common rectangular ones, which I guessed was simply because they looked smarter when on guard duty. Each shield was adorned with a motif of a scorpion, which marked them as the imperial guard. The helmet was more ornate, with a white horsehair plume sprouting from it, which matched the sparkling white tunics that lay under each legionaries’ mail shirt. They were armed with gladius and dagger, but the javelins they carried were slightly shorter and heavier, with a weighted ball beneath the head.

  Marcus came over to us in his resplendent Praetorian uniform but with a face like thunder. ‘Cassius, where have you been? The trierarchus has been in a terrible temper over the delays.’

  I dropped the heavy bag of sheaves on the ground as I struggled to regain my breath. I gave a chuckle. ‘At least you never left without us. That might have been hard to explain to Livia.’

  Blasius was breathing heavily too. ‘Is this our ship then?’

  Marcus looked up proudly. ‘Yes, this is the Severitas. Isn’t she magnificent?’

  I had a look at the warship that would be taking us over to Spain with a mixture of awe and slight uneasiness. It was a Liburnian bireme, one of the warhorses that made up most of the Roman fleet, named after the Illyrian tribe who’d first sailed them. It had two oar decks, twenty-five oarsmen a side, that could propel the large three-tiered bronze ram at its prow. Not as fast as the long and thin trireme, it was, nevertheless, much more adaptable – being able to hold more marines or cargo if necessary – and was highly manoeuvrable. Above the brutal and deadly ram at the front of the vessel were painted two marbled eyes, which lapped just above the waterline and under a wooden figurine that was mounted on the prow, a lady with a determined and angry demeanour depicted on her face, to represent sternness, the ship’s name.

  ‘Very nice, I’m sure,’ muttered Aulus, his temper not improved by our hasty run through the streets. ‘Now, can we get aboard?’

  It took us a fair while to get the eighty legionaries aboard the vessel and settled in under the closed deck of the bireme. Marcus instructed the centurion as to how they were to be billeted.

  I walked up the gangplank and met the trierarchus, a thick black-and-silver bearded fellow, an old sea dog who was late in years. ‘My lord Quaestor.’ He gave me my formal title, which would take me some getting used to.

  ‘Trierarchus,’ I greeted him.

  ‘So you’re the reason I’m leaving so late in the day on this journey?’ he told me in a booming voice that had been honed through years of shouting orders to seamen.

  I gave a slight incline of my head. ‘My apologies in delaying you. We met more traffic on the road from Rome than we would have liked.’

  He gave a crooked smile. ‘Don’t worry. I’ve been escorti
ng dignitaries on the Severitas long enough to know that timekeeping isn’t always your strong point. We are here to serve you and are yours to command.’

  The trierarchus’ ship would have been part of the Praetorian Fleet based at Misenensis, and well used to transporting the imperial family or anyone else that Augustus or his family desired. ‘Will we be underway immediately?’ I asked him, relieved that he didn’t appear as angry about the delay as Marcus had suggested.

  ‘Just as soon as I get the all-clear from the harbour master. They’re strict in this port, Praetorian Fleet or not. There’s not much tide on the inland sea, but I want to catch what’s left of it.’ He then pointed to a large timber and canvas cabin built on the deck at the stern of the vessel under the tutela, another wooden figurine, this time a representation of the goddess Minerva, who overlooked and protected the ship. ‘You can have the master cabin. You’ll be much more comfortable there – it can get a bit rocky down below decks when the wind gets up.’

  Aulus made a queasy sound behind me. ‘I’ll join you there. I don’t want to be getting seasick.’

  The trierarchus gave a small incline of his head. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I need to prepare for departure. I’ll come speak to you once we’re underway.’

  ‘Carry on, trierarchus, and thank you.’ It felt strange to have him and his entire crew at my beck and call. The sailors were running around fastening or unfastening ropes and hatches as the trierarchus shouted at them. The upper tier of oarsmen sat on their benches on the deck, waiting patiently or stretching their long-muscled arms, a dozen a side. Just below them, in the gaps by their feet, sat the lower tier oarsmen, equally ready for the ship to get underway so they could push the ship away from the dock using their long oars.

  ‘Oh dear, Cassius. Something has occurred to me,’ Aulus said to me.

  I turned around. ‘What is it?’