‘Don’t be too nice to them, miss,’ remarked Asdribar. ‘I don’t want them going soft on me.’
‘They deserve it, Captain,’ Annia replied.
‘I won’t argue with you there.’
The Carthaginian sat down on the yard and grabbed a piece of bread. He found a grin for Clara. ‘All right, girl?’
‘Poseidon’s anger has passed, sir. We might reach the land now, mightn’t we?’
‘I’ll see to it. Don’t you worry.’
When Annia had delivered water to every man, she returned to Asdribar. ‘You were right about the Fortuna, Captain. She got us through.’
‘Her and the crew, miss, yes.’
Asdribar tipped his mug at Cassius and Indavara, who were sitting next to each other. ‘And not forgetting our auxiliaries of course.’
Annia looked down at Cassius and Indavara as they took food from Clara’s tray. Though he suspected the travails of the night might have skewed his thinking somewhat, Cassius had to admit she did look lovely; those chestnut tresses framing her delicate features. But there was something about the girl Clara too, with that generous figure and naive vulnerability. Cassius had always had a weakness for maids.
‘Sure you’ve no Thracian blood in you, Indavara?’ asked Asdribar. ‘I’ve not seen harpooning skills like that since I was in the Cyclades.’
‘What’s this?’ asked Annia.
Asdribar related the details of Tarkel’s rescue, ably assisted by enthusiastic contributions from Desenna and Opilio. Cassius had heard the crew talking about Indavara’s quick thinking and skill for much of the night. Embarrassed, the bodyguard concentrated on his food. Cassius watched Annia as she listened and — try as she might — she just couldn’t hide her admiration. Was there anything a woman loved more than a modest hero?
When he’d finished his tale, Asdribar got to his feet and gestured to Cassius. ‘And don’t forget Officer Corbulo here — helmed the ship on his own during the worst of the storm.’
Cassius reckoned his efforts deserved rather more recognition than that but he did his best to appear magnanimous.
‘You did well,’ Asdribar added. ‘Sorry if I was a little rough with my orders.’
‘Not at all. Happy to help.’
Annia put the pail down. ‘Captain-’
Asdribar seemed to know exactly what she was going to ask. ‘No sign from the bow, miss, but visibility is excellent. I’ll send someone up the mast later.’
‘Thank you.’
Annia began a second round with the pail.
Cassius turned to Indavara. ‘Not to going to volunteer yourself for lookout duty, hero?’
Indavara glowered at him as he shoved some bread into his mouth.
‘Oh come on,’ added Cassius. ‘Just a jest. Cheer up, man. We should all be smiling after surviving last night.’
The expression on Indavara’s face hadn’t changed. He lowered his voice. ‘The storm. Do you think it was because of what I did at that temple?’
‘It’s November. There are a lot of storms in November. Let’s just hope we can make it to shore before there’s another one.’
Cassius was already working on a plan, but when the crew asked for more food a little later, he realised an immediate opportunity had presented itself. He hurried to the hatch and down the steps, relieved to note that everyone else was occupied: Asdribar was steering, deep in conversation with Annia; Simo was hanging wet clothes on the side-rail; and Indavara was helping the sailors.
In the end, no one had put themselves forward for lookout duty, but Desenna had volunteered to check the integrity of the mast and make the few minor repairs needed before they could raise the spare yard. Once at the top, he had seen a ship to the south, though it was no more than a speck on the horizon. They couldn’t be sure it was the Isis, but Asdribar had changed course, commenting that there were unlikely to be many other vessels at sea. They would just have to follow as best they could.
Down below, some of the crew were still clearing water. Just beyond the steps, Opilio and another man were pushing the excess into the sluices with wide brushes, while another team could be heard singing lustily as they cleared the lower hold.
Cassius hurried along the passageway, also glad that young Tarkel had been moved into Squint’s quarters. Apparently the lad had said a few words and even managed a bit of breakfast. The crew had all insisted on checking on him and Simo had eventually been forced to ask Asdribar to ban visitors.
Cassius stuck his head into the galley and checked it was empty, then went inside the cabin. He wedged the door open with his foot, ran a hand through his hair and waited.
Clara came along not long after, carrying the empty tray.
‘Hello,’ said Cassius. ‘As you’re on your way to the galley, perhaps you’d collect my dirty crockery for me?’
He pointed to the single mug on the table by the bed.
Clara looked at the mug, then glanced back along the empty passageway.
‘Won’t take a moment,’ Cassius assured her.
Keeping her expression neutral, she walked past him into the cabin. Cassius pulled his foot away and the door slammed shut. He took the tray from her and put it on the bed.
Clara looked up at him. He watched her running her eyes over the features of his face. They came to rest on his mouth.
‘Do you think I’m handsome, Clara?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘You can call me Cassius. Do you think I’m handsome?’
‘I think you’re very handsome, Cassius.’
He had asked that question of a lot of women, numerous maids amongst them; often enough to know the difference between a real yes and a fake yes.
He ran a finger softly up her neck. ‘You won’t tell your mistress about this, will you, Clara? I don’t think that would be helpful for anybody.’
She shook her head.
Cassius bent forward and kissed her on the lips. Clara opened her mouth wide and drew in his tongue, licking at it with her own. He pulled her to him and ran his hand across her bottom, squeezing the soft flesh. Clara sighed.
Cassius turned her around, grabbed her waist and pulled her in close again. His cupped her heavy breasts in his hands and kissed her lightly on the neck.
‘You like that, don’t you, Clara?’
She nodded, mouth open.
‘Cassius,’ he whispered.
‘I like it, Cassius.’
Just as he found her nipples with his fingers, someone came striding down the passageway. They both froze as the interloper reached the door, but the footsteps went on into the galley. Clara tried to free herself but Cassius held on tight, one arm round her waist, one across her chest. Whoever it was came out of the galley and hurried back along the passageway.
‘I should go, sir,’ Clara breathed.
Cassius agreed; no sense pushing his luck. He turned her round again and took one last kiss, then let go and opened the cabin door. ‘I do hope that we can find a time and place for another such meeting, Clara. Do you?’
She rearranged her hair and picked up the tray before replying. ‘I do, sir.’
‘I told you to call me Cassius. We are after all quite well acquainted now.’
The pink flush of the girl’s cheeks made Cassius grin. Clara walked out into the passageway and he shut the door behind her. Still smiling, he leant back against the wall.
He felt good. The nausea was gone, the ship had survived the night, and, for the briefest moment, all thoughts of Africa and what awaited them there had been forgotten.
If the dark times he’d faced over the last few years had taught him anything, it was that you took your pleasures when and where you could find them, and as far as he was concerned, there was no greater pleasure than getting one’s hands on a compliant young woman.
He wandered over to the table, took a swig of wine straight from the bottle and whispered to himself: ‘Who needs ladies?’
By midday the spare yard was up and — other than the broken spar lashed to the deck — there were few visible signs of what the Fortuna had endured. Once the hold was clear of water, Asdribar rotated duties so that his exhausted crew could get some rest.