“We could land at the legion port at Thessalonica, Julius, and hand over the legion silver and the ship. When we’re cleared, we could sail round the coast, or even march west to Dyrrhachium and take ship for Rome. We’re so close now. Durus says he’ll swear we had a business arrangement, so any charges for piracy won’t run.”

“There’s still that soldier Ciro killed on the docks,” Julius said slowly, deep in thought.

Gaditicus shrugged. “Soldiers die and it’s not as if he butchered him. The man was just unlucky. They won’t be able to make anything stick now. We’re free to return.”

“What will you do? You have enough to retire on, I should think.”

“Perhaps. I was thinking of using my share to pay the Senate for the slaves that went down with Accipiter. If I do that, they might even send me back to sea as captain. We’ve taken two pirate ships, after all, which they can’t overlook.”

Julius rose and took the other man’s arm. “I owe you a great deal more than that, you know.”

Gaditicus gripped the arm that held him. “There’s no debt to me, lad. When we were in that stinking cell . . . and friends died, my will went with them for a while.”

“You were the captain, though, Gadi. You could have stood on your authority.”

Gaditicus smiled a little ruefully. “A man who needs to do that may find he isn’t standing very high after all.”

“You’re a good man, you know—and a fine captain,” Julius said, wishing he had better words for his friend. He knew it had taken a rare strength for Gaditicus to swallow his pride, but without that they would never have been able to take back their lives and honor.

“Come on, then,” he said. “If it’s what you want, we’ll cross to Greece and rejoin civilization.”

Gaditicus smiled with him. “What will you do with your share of the gold?” he asked, a little warily.

Only Suetonius had complained when Julius had claimed half for himself, with the rest to be shared equally. After taking out the Roman silver and the ransoms for the Accipiter officers, the shares they would get were still more money than they would ever have expected to see. Suetonius had not spoken a word to Julius since being given his allotted sum, but his was the only sullen face on the three ships. The rest of them looked on Julius with something like awe.

“I don’t know what I’ll do, yet,” Julius said, his smile fading. “I can’t go back to Rome, you remember?”

“Sulla?” Gaditicus said, recalling the young man who had joined his galley just before the tide at Ostia, his face soot-streaked from the burning city behind him.