Germanicus

19

In the end Perilla didn't come on the wine tasting binge; a ruse to get me back in time for dinner and sober enough to eat it. I was glad I'd made the effort, though. Once you got Theon alone and off his mysteries of the deeps crap he turned out to be good company. Useful, too, because he knew Antioch like the back of his hand, and without Perilla there to cramp his style I got a fair run-down of the parts of the city tourists don't get told about. The Laodicean, incidentally, wasn't bad stuff, but it wasn't half as good as Theon had promised. I wouldn't've backed it against an ordinary Setinian, let alone my best Falernian. Far too spicy on the palate, which was probably why the Alexandrians went for it. These over-civilised bastards add perfume to their wines anyway. No wonder Cleopatra lost Actium. Half her sailors were probably down with rose petal poisoning.

I left, as I'd promised Perilla, as soon as we'd sunk the first jug and before the sun was properly below the yardarm. Not that I'd've stayed much longer anyway. My head still felt pretty woozy and the wine hadn't helped my balance any. It was a beautiful evening. We'd lost the dolphins but the Greek coast was still slipping past like a long strip of purple ribbon: presumably while the captain and I had been swapping details of Roman and Antiochene night life one of his crew had been making sure we didn't hit Crete or Egypt or whatever the hell was in front of us. I took a moment to lean over the rail and generally think how great it was to be alive…

Another second and I wouldn't've been. What made me turn I don't know, maybe the rush of air as the guy brought back his knife-arm. As it was I just had time to spin round, move to the right and bring my left knee up for his groin as he knocked me against the side of the boat.

I missed. Maybe it was because I'd been on my back for five days, maybe I was just out of practice; but I missed. And when you're facing a guy with a knife you don't get a second chance.

The knife came at me again in a vicious upward stab angled under my bottom rib. I caught his wrist before it struck and pushed down and out, feeling the blade slice through the left side of my tunic and bite into the ship's timbers.

I didn't have a knife myself; walking in Rome I usually carry one strapped to the inside of my forearm, but I wasn't in the Subura now. In any case, my left hand was busy. This was no time for heroics. I yelled blue murder while I went for his balls again. This time my knee connected. He gasped and his grip slackened.

Right, you bastard! I thought, and brought my forehead down hard onto the bridge of his nose. He fell back, blood streaming, then came on again. He still had the knife, only this time he held it wide, waiting to see which way I'd move. I brought my foot up to kick his liver through his kidneys…

And the ship shifted. Whether it was a rogue wave or a change in the wind I didn't know, but suddenly I'd lost my balance completely and I was sprawled face-up half over the side. The guy was handier on his feet than I was. He moved forward, grinning. I rolled away, but I was years too late.

There was a thump, and a horrible crunching sound. The guy stopped, sagged, and slipped to the deck. Behind him stood Theon, holding what looked like a major part of ship's equipment.

I turned and leaned over the rail, gasping for breath.

'You okay, Corvinus?' The captain's hand pulled me back.

'Yeah. Yeah. Thanks.' I was glad we'd got beyond the ‘lord’ crap. But then it doesn't sound so bad in Greek.

'What the hell happened?' He looked more shocked than I was.

'Shit knows. One of your crew went for me. You know who he is?'

He reached down, grabbed the man by the scruff of his tunic and lifted him like he was a doll. The head lolled sickeningly: whatever Theon had hit him with it'd stove in the brain pan like an eggshell and he was definitely an ex-assassin.

'His name's Albianus,' Theon said. 'He's our galley skivvy.'

Suddenly something white rushed across the deck and threw itself at me. I grabbed in reflex and found it was Perilla.

'Marcus, are you all right?' she said.

'Sure. Why shouldn't I be?'

'I heard you yell.'

'You and the rest of the ship, lady. Probably half the Greek coastline from here to Corinth.'

'Don't exaggerate. We're nowhere near Corinth.'

'Yeah, well.' I detached her gently, without letting go altogether. 'Wherever.'

She looked down at the dead man — Theon had dropped him again — and shivered.

'What happened?' she said quietly.

'A brush with the shipboard staff.'

'Marcus…'

'Perhaps you should go back inside, ma'am,' Theon said.

'If you think-!'

'Go on, Perilla.' I kissed her cheek. 'We'll be right there. Promise.'

She went. Once she was safely out of sight Theon picked the dead guy up and tossed him to the fish.

. .

'He joined the ship at Puteoli,' Theon said. He was sitting on the deckhouse's only stool. Perilla and I sat chastely on the bed, side by side. 'Our normal skivvy'd gone out on a bender and never come back.'

'Was that usual?' I said.

'Not unusual. Though so far we've known where to find him.'

'But not this time?'

'Not this time.' Theon made to spit, and then remembered where he was. 'So when this Albianus turned up asking for a job an hour before we sailed I took him on. You get a lot of that sort hanging about Puteoli harbour. Any harbour. Not real seamen, but if they can peel an onion, clean out a pan and stay sober nobody asks too many questions.'

'So you didn't know him?'

'No.' He scowled. 'Did you?'

'Uh-uh.'

'Then why did he attack you?'

'The gods know,' I said. Yeah, sure; they probably did, but all the same I could make a damn good guess myself. 'Maybe the heat got to him.'

'What heat?'

'Okay, make it the endless empty wastes of the briny.' I reached for the cup of wine — my own Setinian — on the side table. 'Whatever. How the hell should I know?'

'You'll report it when we get to Seleucia, naturally.'

'No.'

That rocked him, I could see. Sure, he was relieved; no ship's captain wants it to get around that his crew might try to puncture the passengers. The fact that I was a purple-striper and a current Roman consul's nephew made things worse. One word from me to the authorities in Syria and he'd spend the rest of his days hauling cabbages in the Black Sea. But he was puzzled, and a guy like Theon hated to be puzzled.

'You care to tell me why not?' he said.

I shrugged. 'Because it wasn't your fault. Because you saved my life. And because the bastard's dead anyway. What did you slug him with, by the way?'

'A belaying pin.'

'Yeah?' Jupiter! Maybe I'd've understood that in Latin, but I doubted it. 'Okay, so we'll agree to blame it on the heat, right? No questions either side.'

'Well, Corvinus, so long as you're satisfied.' Theon got to his feet. 'Nothing like this has ever happened before on a ship of mine. You've my apologies. And my thanks.'

He was a straight guy. Straight but puzzled. We shook hands and I saw him out and on his way to keelhaul the bilges or whatever the hell captains did at night. Then I poured myself another cup of wine and settled back against the bolster.

'That man was supposed to stop you getting to Syria, wasn't he?' Perilla said.

'Yeah.' I took a mouthful of Setinian. After the Laodicean it went down like liquid velvet. 'Of course he was.'

'So who sent him?'

'Jupiter knows, Perilla. I'll tell you one thing, though.'

'Yes?'

'It means we're on the right lines.'

She was quiet for a long time, her head on my shoulder. Then she said: 'Now I'll tell you something.'

'Yeah?'

'Antioch isn't Rome. You don't know it, you've no friends there. Right lines or not, if whoever sent Albianus tries again then next time they may succeed. And they might well have people already there and waiting. I want you to be very careful, please, because I don't want you dead. It isn't worth it. Do you understand?'

I kissed her forehead. 'I understand, lady.'

Sure I did. I didn't want me dead, either. But after that evening's little incident it might be pretty tricky avoiding it.