Suddenly there was a roar of laughter from the bow.
‘It’s the Rusucurru!’ yelled Asdribar.
‘The what?’ asked Cassius. He and the others turned to Squint for an explanation. The old sailor was beaming, showing more holes in his mouth than teeth.
‘Don’t look so worried,’ he said. ‘Friends.’
After a brief conversation with Asdribar, the captain of the Rusucurru — a tall, grey-bearded fellow who also seemed to be Carthaginian — brought his ship alongside the Fortuna. The freighter, a longer and bulkier vessel, was under oar power and covered the distance swiftly. Asdribar ordered his hands to ease their lines and soon the ships were just ten yards apart, drifting off the still-invisible harbour.
The twenty men on the Rusucurru’s deck were, if anything, a rougher-looking bunch than the Fortuna’s crew, and the moment they saw the women a shout went up. Asdribar laughed as the sailors waved and blew kisses, but he swiftly got control of himself and spoke a few words to the captain, who eventually quietened his men. The leering continued, however, with even the rowers peering out through the oar holes.
‘Come, Clara,’ said Annia, leading her maid over to the deckhouse as several jovial exchanges broke out across the water between the sailors. Asdribar and the other captain were talking in Punic, occasionally pointing along the channel towards Cnossus.
Cassius walked over to him and waited for a break in the conversation. ‘Will you ask about the Cartenna?’
‘Of course.’
When the captain relayed Asdribar’s query to his crew, several men spoke up. Asdribar translated for Cassius. ‘The Cartenna came in yesterday — it was moored not far from them.’
‘And the passenger? Dio. He is a small man, hooded cloak, carrying a-’
‘Yes, I know. I asked. Apparently he was going from ship to ship, trying to find passage off the island. Two of Valtava’s men spoke to him.’
Captain Valtava shouted across the water again. He pointed to a bare-chested crewman, who took up the tale.
‘What’s he saying?’ Cassius asked impatiently.
Asdribar was too busy listening to reply.
Braving the attentions of the sailors, Annia returned to the side-rail.
When the sailor finished, Asdribar continued: ‘That fellow was drinking with a friend of his last night — navigator on an Egyptian merchantman called the Isis. His captain agreed to take Dio.’
‘Where?’
‘That’s the thing,’ said Asdribar. ‘The captain was paid a considerable sum but on condition that only he could know where they were going. The crew weren’t to find out until they were at sea. This navigator and some of the others weren’t happy about it, but the captain was offering double pay.’
‘When did they leave?’
‘A couple of hours ago.’
‘The ship we saw,’ said Annia.
‘Yes, miss.’
‘By the gods,’ said Cassius, smacking the side-rail. ‘We almost had the son of a bitch.’
‘We could not have got here sooner,’ said Asdribar.
‘We must go after them,’ insisted Annia.
Cassius stared down at the water. He had expected to be in Cnossus harbour within the hour. The thought of heading out to sea again — after a ship that might be headed anywhere — was a deeply unpleasant prospect.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I suppose we must.’
Valtava spoke again to Asdribar.
‘He says the Isis is a grain freighter. She’s bigger than the Fortuna. Quicker too.’
‘You told me your ship was fast, Captain,’ said Annia.
‘She’s the fastest there is, for her size. But the Isis has forty or fifty feet on us, perhaps double the sail area.’
‘Then we should not delay,’ Annia replied.
Asdribar rubbed his brow. ‘Miss, the Isis was heading west towards the other end of the island. If they’re not headed for Greece, they could be bound for anywhere, even-’
‘Africa,’ said Annia flatly. ‘Yes. I know.’
Asdribar came closer, so that the rest of the crew wouldn’t hear. ‘Miss, that’s two hundred miles of open sea. I’ve done the journey many times in the season, but if the weather turns bad there are no islands, no ports or anchorages. Nowhere to go.’
‘We know where we are going,’ countered Annia. ‘We are following the Isis. Captain, I didn’t secure your services with the expectation that you would baulk at the first sign of difficulty. More days at sea mean a very full bag of gold coins.’
Asdribar looked up at the mast. ‘There is almost no wind.’
Annia pointed across at the Rusucurru. ‘The Fortuna also has oars, does it not?’
‘Miss, I did explain that I don’t have a full crew. We might only make three knots.’
‘That’s three knots more than we’re making now.’
Cassius had listened to the whole conversation and conceded to himself that Annia was undeniably impressive when she got the bit between her teeth.
Asdribar spoke again to his fellow captain, then reported back once more.
‘Valtava knows these waters well. He says the mist won’t have spread out much further than a mile. They are heading north and will give us a tow while we get the yard down and ready the oars.’
‘Excellent,’ said Annia. ‘Thank you, Captain.’
Valtava’s local knowledge and the ability of his crew were soon proved beyond doubt. The well-drilled oarsmen of the Rusucurru seemed barely troubled by the additional burden of the Fortuna Redux; soon both ships were cutting across the pond-like sea, beyond the last wreaths of the Cretan mist and out into the watery midday sunshine. Tarkel, still at the top of the mast, had just sighted the Isis.
‘How far?’ yelled Asdribar.
‘Ten miles, give or take.’
‘At what distance will we lose sight of it?’ Cassius asked.
‘Twelve or thirteen.’
Belatedly realising he hadn’t got a description from the two crewmen who’d been approached by Dio, Cassius then spent a fairly surreal half-hour sitting at the Fortuna’s bow, conducting a shouted interview with them as they stood on either side of the Rusucurru’s sternpost.
He soon concluded that the assassin was well suited to his work. His lack of height seemed to be his only notable physical feature and the two men could offer little more than Drusus Viator had on Rhodes. The sailors did at least remember — after repeated questioning — that he was clean-shaven, with short, black hair; not particularly handsome or ugly; not particularly dark-skinned or light-skinned; and spoke good Greek with no discernible accent.
Just as Cassius finished questioning them, Asdribar came forward to oversee the detaching of the tow rope. The Rusucurru slowed, then was stopped dead by the oarsmen, and as the Fortuna drifted up behind her, the rope was hauled in by Korinth.
Asdribar was carrying one of the barrels of cinnamon wine, around which he had wrapped a length of rope. Seeing it, Valtava grinned, then held up a little cloth package tied with twine. With a mighty heave, Asdribar sent the barrel into the water a couple of yards from the Rusucurru’s broad stern. One of the crew grabbed a boathook and retrieved it. Valtava waited until the still-drifting Fortuna was only four or five yards away, then threw the package to Asdribar, who snatched it out of the air with ease. Once Valtava had ordered the oarsmen back to work, the freighter began to pull away. The two Carthaginians kept up their conversation as sailors from both vessels shouted farewells.
Without thinking about it, Cassius waved. Valtava returned the gesture and shouted in Greek: ‘Good luck, Roman! Make sure you pay him what he’s due!’