“Ciro! There are too many!” Julius bawled at him, caught between his desire to help the last of his men and the knowledge that jumping down meant certain capture. The oars heaved out again and the plank fell.

Ciro took slow steps to the edge of the dock, not daring to turn his back. The quaestor’s men rushed at him and Ciro lashed out with his fist at the first, a crunching blow that knocked the soldier over the edge and into the water. The legionary’s armor dragged him down in a stream of silver bubbles. Ciro spun round then and gasped as a sword took him in the back. His arms flailed, but he roared and launched himself at the departing ship, catching the rail with one hand. Julius grabbed his wrist, looking down into dark eyes mad with pain and energy.

“Help me get him up!” Julius called as he struggled to keep his grip on the sweating skin. It took two more of them to heave Ciro up over the rail, and he gasped as his back tore and bled, leaving a dark smear on the wood where he lay.

“I didn’t mean to kill him,” Ciro said between rasping breaths.

Julius knelt by him and took his hand. “You had no choice.”

Ciro’s eyes were closed with the pain and he didn’t see Julius’s grim expression as he stood up and strode back to the rail. It began to swing away from the dock as the slaves found room to drop their oars into the water.

Not twenty feet away, the legionaries glared back, their hatred clear in their expressions. Despite being so close, it was a slowly widening gulf that they were powerless to cross, and as Julius watched them in silence, one of them spat on the stones in disgust.

The quaestor stood with them, his toga exchanged for a dark tunic and kilt of leather. His face was red with fury and exertion as he was forced to watch the ship move out of the harbor and finally be swallowed in the night. A couple of his men swore softly, as they too stared after Ventulus.

“Orders, sir?” one of them said, looking at the quaestor.

Pravitas did not reply until his breathing had settled and some of the redness was gone from his face.

“Run to the captain of the galley that put in yesterday. Tell him my orders are to set sail immediately to hunt the merchant ship Ventulus. I want him moving within the hour, on this tide.”

The soldier saluted. “Yes, sir,” he replied. “Should I give him an explanation?”

Pravitas nodded quickly. “Tell him a legionary has been murdered and the ship stolen by pirates.”

*                                                      *                                                      *