‘So I believe.’
Cassius was somewhat taken aback. A young lady interested in philosophy! It wouldn’t do to offend the girl, but he decided to assess the extent of her knowledge.
‘Plotinus certainly examined some fascinating concepts. The idea of “the one”, for example. An all-encompassing entity: not any one thing, yet the sum of all things. Interesting to compare it with standard Platonist thinking.’
Annia gave a little smile.
Cassius knew he had gone too far; he had embarrassed the poor girl.
‘And?’ she said.
‘And?’
‘How would you compare the two, Officer?’
‘Er …’
Other than the fact that some of Plotinus’s views were contrary to Plato’s, Cassius knew only a few sketchy details. ‘Well, this concept of “oneness” for example.’
‘Yes?’
Clara was looking at him now too.
‘Er … the relationship between “the one” and humanity.’
‘Yes?’
How typical of her to press him. Cassius reached deep into the recesses of his memory and pulled out a few key phrases. He was far from sure, but he had to say something. ‘Well, it’s been a while, of course, but if memory serves, the argument centres on such fundamentals as the act of creation, the stages of perfection and the concepts of the demiurge and the dyad. Though that would be little more than a starting point for the discussion of course.’
Annia frowned. Cassius knew he’d made a fool of himself. Even if the girl had paid the slightest bit of attention to the speech she’d heard, she probably knew more than him.
‘I can’t remember much of the detail to be honest,’ she said. ‘It is all very confusing at times.’
‘True, true,’ Cassius replied, trying not to sigh with relief. ‘Well, of course, oratory was my main area of study.’
‘Ah,’ said Annia. ‘Now I can imagine you as an orator.’
‘Really?’
‘Oh certainly. You seem highly skilled in the art of saying a lot without answering the question.’
Clara’s eyes grew wide and she looked away. Cassius was too surprised to even measure his own reaction and certainly not capable of an immediate reply.
‘Just a jest, Officer,’ Annia said with a placatory smile. ‘Please don’t take offence.’
‘You are quick, miss,’ Cassius said sourly. ‘Very quick.’
‘Please.’ She placed a hand lightly on his arm. ‘I apologise if I insulted you.’
Cassius’s cheeks glowed. Looking down at those rather lovely green eyes, he felt himself relenting. But the rebuke still stung.
‘How is it that you found yourself a soldier, sir?’
Cassius pulled his arm away.
‘Officer!’ Asdribar was on his way back from the bow.
‘Perhaps you will tell me later,’ said Annia.
‘I think not,’ Cassius shot back. ‘It’s a pity your maid couldn’t find anything to distract you from your grief, miss, as you seem to have concocted your own form of entertainment. I suggest that for both our benefits you stick to needlework from now on.’
Cassius turned away from her as Asdribar approached.
‘Do you have any documentation with you?’ asked the captain. ‘An authorisation, that sort of thing?’
‘Of course. Why?’
‘There’s a Roman warship ahead, coming up from the south. We first spotted her earlier this morning.’
‘Right. And?’
‘She’s just altered course. To intercept us.’
‘That shouldn’t be a problem, should it?’
‘Shouldn’t be. No.’
Cassius found himself rather concerned by the doubt in the Carthaginian’s voice. He was about to press him further when something heavy hit the deck. Looking over Asdribar’s shoulder, he saw Indavara wiping water from his face and looking down at the sodden sheet in his hand. Korinth was standing over him, next to the bucket he’d just dropped by Indavara’s feet.
‘Oh. Sorry,’ said the big sailor with a provocative grin.
Cassius half expected Indavara to fly at him but the bodyguard got up slowly, eyes fixed on the taller man.
Korinth scratched at the burnt section of his face, then waved him forward. ‘Got no stave this time, have you? Unless you want to stick me with that blade, it’ll have to be fists.’
‘Calm yourself, lad!’ yelled Squint. A couple of the other men bawled encouragement as Asdribar hurried over to intervene.
Indavara crossed his arms. ‘I’m not going to break my fingers on your ugly snout.’
Korinth looked all set to go for him but by then Asdribar was between them.
‘What did I tell you?’ demanded the captain. ‘Any more of that and your cut on this run drops from a sixth to a nothing. Got it?’
Korinth continued to glare at Indavara, who was wiping water off the sheet.
‘Korinth!’
At last the sailor looked at his captain. Asdribar pointed towards the bow. With a final poisonous glare at Indavara, Korinth walked away.
The air of tension created by the incident was amplified by the approach of the warship. Not long after the vessel changed course, a sparkling light — apparently a sun-mirror — signalled a brief code that all the crewmen seemed to understand: ‘Slow, and prepare for boarding.’
As the sailors furled the mainsail, Cassius joined the others on the starboard side to watch the warship approach.
‘It’s the Armata!’ shouted young Tarkel as he coiled a line.
‘Keep at your work,’ ordered Squint, who was overseeing operations at the mast.
‘What does it mean — armata?’ asked Indavara.
‘Armed,’ said Cassius. ‘As in ready for war.’
‘Hopefully not with us,’ Asdribar said ruefully as he passed by.
Cassius had been ruminating on what the harbour master’s clerk had disclosed about the Carthaginian’s reputation. He hurried after him.
‘Captain?’
‘Yes?’
‘Should I be concerned? What would the navy want with the Fortuna?’
‘Probably just a shakedown.’
‘A what?’
‘Officers looking to grab a few extras before heading home. Happens all the time.’
‘Extras? Such as?’
‘Whatever they can find. And taxes invented on the spot if they can’t.’
‘I presume there’s nothing on board that shouldn’t be?’
‘That’s what I’ll be telling them.’
‘Is it true?’
‘That’s what I’ll be telling them.’
The blue eyes stared implacably back at Cassius, bright and clear in that bronzed face. Cassius decided it was probably best he didn’t know.
‘The authorisation,’ Asdribar added. ‘Might be wise to get it now.’
Cassius waved Simo over. ‘Cloak, helmet and spearhead. My letters too. And be careful — I don’t want them blowing over the side.’
As Simo made his way below, Tarkel scurried after him.
Korinth and a couple of the men lowered the foresail and the Fortuna drifted to a stop. Without any forward motion and the stabilising effect of full sails, the ship began to roll, an effect exacerbated by the yardarms projecting over each side.
Having taken some long, deep breaths, Cassius forced himself to focus on the warship. He had only ever seen such a vessel in dock, and never one this size. The sight of it reminded him of the first time he’d set eyes on a full legion camp in the field — that of the Fourth Legion stationed at Palmyra, Syria. Just like then, pride surged within him, and the warm glow of it seemed to burn the nausea away.
Cassius had been born just four years after the thousandth anniversary of the founding of Rome. At moments like this, and with a man like Aurelian now in command of the Empire, it was possible to forget the troubles in Gaul, the raiding Goths and rebels like Queen Zenobia. At moments like this, Cassius felt sure that what his father had told him all his life was true: Rome would endure another thousand years.
‘And another thousand after that.’