“We will make our own arrangements, thank you,” Gaditicus said tensely, barely managing to hide his irritation any longer.

“Then I will take your names for the report to Rome and leave you in peace,” Pravitas replied. They gave them quickly and he repeated each one to fix them in his memory. He stood and inclined his head stiffly.

“Good luck on the return journey, gentlemen,” he said, before making his way out through the busy inn onto the streets.

“Suspicious sod,” Pelitas muttered when he had gone. The others murmured agreement.

“We have to move quickly now. I don’t doubt the quaestor will have someone watching us until we are out of his province. It will be a little harder to make the plan work.”

“Well, it was too easy before,” Prax said. “We needed another challenge.”

Julius smiled with the others. No matter what happened, they had developed a friendship that would never have come about if they were still on Accipiter.

“Go quickly back to the men, Peli. If you are followed, I expect you to lose them well before you get close. If you can’t get clear, then have the men catch and tie the watchers until the night is over. It won’t matter if they are missed tomorrow when we’re gone.”

Pelitas stood and drained his cup, belching softly. He left without another word and Julius looked around at the three men who were left.

“Now, gentlemen,” he said, mimicking the quaestor’s tone. “We have to get ourselves a merchant ship.”

*                                                      *                                                      *

Captain Durus of the Ventulus was a contented man. He had a hold full of skins and exotic wood that would bring a small fortune back in Italy. The pride of the cargo were ten ivory tusks, each as long as a man. He had never seen the animals that died to provide them, but had bought them from a trader in the port, who in turn had bartered with hunters deeper inland. Durus knew he would triple his price on them at least and congratulated himself silently on the round of strong bargaining. Nearly two hours, it had taken, and he had been forced to take some worthless bolts of cloth as part of the sale. Even they would fetch a few bronze coins for slave clothing, he supposed, so he couldn’t complain. It had been a successful trip, and even with the expenses of port fees and provisions for the crew and slaves, he should clear enough to buy his wife the pearls she wanted and perhaps a new horse for himself. A good stallion that would breed with his wife’s mare, if he could get one for the right price.

His thoughts were interrupted by four soldiers walking along the dock to where Ventulus was tied up. He assumed they were from the meddling quaestor who controlled the port and sighed to himself, careful to smile as they drew close to him.