“So, the orange banner was intended to be seen by someone else?” Libo concluded. “Someone in our fleet?”
“We believe it was an agreed upon signal, in the event the ship was captured. We believe it was meant to protect Marcellus from the very fate he suffered. Perhaps the intended recipient had agents within our fleet instructed to look out for it. Perhaps agents aboard this very ship.”
“Agents of the Raven perhaps?” Libo said it casually, but the effect was noticeable on Postumus and Flavius’s faces. The senator shot a scowl at Lucius, obviously understanding the source of Libo’s information.
“I see that the centurion knows much more than we suspected, Admiral,” Postumus finally said, then smiled. “The Raven is no one you need concern yourself with. He is simply -“
“The Raven is a murderer!” Calpurnia interrupted suddenly, her face red with anger as she glared at the senator. “He killed my brothers. He killed my father.”
“Come now, my lady,” Postumus said tetchily. “You must admit that such a claim is a bit fanciful.”
Calpurnia appeared ready to respond in an incendiary manner, but Libo spoke first. “With all respect to you both, is not this Raven a myth? I have heard tales of the Raven Brotherhood since I was a boy. It is the stuff of conspiracies and intrigue, something we all use as an explanation for the unexplainable.”
“The Raven is no myth, Admiral,” Calpurnia said. “He is very real. His followers are real. His bloody hand is involved in nearly everything that happens in Rome. His iron-fist stretches across the empire.”
“In all of my years serving the empire, my lady,” Libo said doubtfully, “I have never come in contact with him.
“Do you see Jupiter in his flesh, Admiral?” Calpurnia replied hotly. “Do you see Mars on the battlefield? Of course not. But you see evidence of their power. You see their influence all around you. Mark you me, Admiral, there is a secret order within the Senate that is the true governing body of Rome. It is a small cadre of senators, known only by its members. It directs the affairs of the empire from the shadows.”
“But to what end, my lady?” Libo asked doubtfully.
“That their leader, a man called the Raven – a man who is said to be directly descended from the Tarquins, the ancient kings of Rome – might gain supreme power.” As she spoke, she turned and looked directly across the table at Postumus. “That he might do away with the Senate and the voting assemblies, and establish a new dynasty to rule the Romans as did the kings of old. He will stop at nothing.”
Postumus suddenly laughed out loud, but it seemed unnatural, as if he was uncomfortable under Calpurnia’s stare. “My dear lady, Rome’s kings have been gone for well over four hundred years. The Tarquins no longer exist. These are merely stories meant to scare children into believing the dreaded tyrants might one day return should we not hold fast to our republican values. It is, indeed, a great story, but too fantastical to have any truth to it. What’s next? Will Aeneas appear and demand of the kings his lands be restored? Or will the she-wolf of Romulus return in the guise of a man to stake her own claim? It is too absurd to give it a second thought.” Postumus then looked at Libo. “As Lady Calpurnia has suggested, Admiral, there is no doubt some man calling himself the Raven, and he may perhaps hold some sway over a certain base of clientele, but I do not share her opinion of the extent of his power or his intentions.”
“Then, it is this Raven whom you believe has made some sort of arrangement with Antony?” Libo asked.
“That is correct, Admiral,” Postumus said earnestly. “Thanks to our agent in Rome, the Senate in Thessalonica was informed as to the details of this arrangement, and Flavius and I have been sent to head it off, or capitalize on it, if all goes well.”
“But I thought you said the substance of Antony’s meeting with the mysterious visitor was unknown.”
“We did not wish to bring you in on all of the details, Admiral, more for your own good than for any other reason. It would have been best had you simply delivered us to our destination tomorrow, and forgotten about the whole thing. But, now that you have other birds whispering in your ears,” Postumus glanced ruefully at Calpurnia and then Lucius, “you might as well know everything. You may have heard, Admiral, the rumors of late, that Caesar has opened the aerarium stabulum – the public treasury reserves in Rome – for his own personal use. Well, I am afraid these rumors are true. The brigand Caesar is using the public purse to keep his legions in the field, not only those in Italy and Spain, but those now afoot in Greece with the tyrant himself. Antony was to bring this money with him when he brought his legions across the Adriatic. However, Antony is having second thoughts about his allegiance to Caesar, and has decided to use that money to another purpose. The man is bloated with ambition. He has made a deal with the Raven. He is to hand over half of the aerarium, some thirty million sesterces, in exchange for an appointment as the supreme commander of all Optimates armies. Apparently, the fool Antony believes the Raven carries enough influence with the Senate that such an edict is possible. Of course, you and I know that is utter nonsense. Pompey is the commander and will always be the commander. The Senate has no plans to replace him, nor would they ever consider choosing a verbose, inept, blood-sucking tick like Antony for such a position, no matter how persuasive this Raven thinks he is. It really is quite laughable.” Postumus chuckled while Flavius smirked beside him.
“And yet, Senator,” Calpurnia spoke contemptuously, “the Raven seems to hold sway over Rome’s vassals.”
“Forgive me, my lady,” Postumus said, still smiling. “But I do not know to what you are referring.”
“Do you not? Why, I am referring to that whore in Alexandria who calls herself the queen of Egypt, Cleopatra Philopator. The murder of my brothers happened under her very nose, and she did nothing to stop it, nor did she make any moves to apprehend the true criminals. Why not? Because they were agents of the Raven, and she was instructed not to interfere.” Calpurnia paused, looking fervently at Postumus. “Do you know what it's like, Senator, to see the heads of your brothers presented to you like a fisherman's catch of the day? Cleopatra sent them to my father, preserved in oil, the Egyptian way of honoring the dead, she claimed, that my father might bury them properly. But I would rather she had tossed them to the crocodiles.” Calpurnia trembled as she spoke, whether out of anguish or anger, it was impossible to tell. "I can still see them as they were presented to my father. Those faces with which I had so many happy memories, now slick, contorted, frozen in the horror of their last breath. That is the image that haunts me whenever I think of the Raven, Senator. For it was by his order that my brothers were slain."
"You have our sincerest condolences, my dear," Postumus added in something that sounded like sympathy. "It is simply unimaginable what you have been through. It has been some time, but I seem to remember reading that Queen Cleopatra apprehended the vile wretches responsible for the murders and sent them to your father.”
"The vile wretch was the queen herself, Senator. She sent a few common criminals in chains to Antioch, hoping to placate my father, while allowing the real murderers, members of the Raven Brotherhood, to escape!"
"No disrespecting your brothers' tragedy, my dear, but do you have anything to substantiate that?"
"Nothing happens by accident in Alexandria, Senator," her eyes were cold and locked onto his. "Nothing that the children of the drunkard Ptolemy do not arrange, either to undermine others or one another. And, yes, I do have proof.”