If his head hadn’t been pulsing its sullen sickness, Julius might have laughed at the precaution. The Romans had lost their strength, unable to exercise. It still amazed him how fast the muscles became weak without use. Cabera had shown them how to keep themselves strong by pulling against each other, but it didn’t seem to make much difference.

The captain breathed shallowly, his eyes taking in the full slop bucket. His face was tanned and creased from years of squinting against the glare of the sea. Even his clothes carried a fresh smell in with him, and Julius ached to be out in the air and the open spaces, so powerfully that his heart hammered with the need.

“We have reached a safe port. In six months, perhaps, you will be put down some lonely night, free and paid for.” He paused to enjoy the effect of his words. Just the mention of an ending to their imprisonment had every man’s gaze fastened to him.

“The amounts to ask for, now that is a delicate problem,” he continued, his voice as pleasant as if he addressed a group of men he knew well instead of soldiers who would tear him apart with their teeth if they had the strength.

“It must not be so much that your loved ones cannot pay. We have no use for those. Yet somehow I don’t believe you will be truthful if I ask you to tell me how much your families will bear for you. Do you understand?”

“We understand you well enough,” Gaditicus said.

“It is best if we reach a compromise, I think. You will each tell me your name, rank, and wealth, and I will decide you are lying and add whatever I think would be right. It is like a game, perhaps.”

No one answered him, but silent vows were made to their gods and the hatred was clear enough in their expressions.

“Good. Let us start, then.” He pointed to Suetonius, his gaze drawn as the young man scratched at the lice that left red sores on all their bodies.

“Suetonius Prandus. I am a watch officer, the lowest rank. My family have nothing to sell,” Suetonius replied, his voice thick and hoarse with lack of use.

The captain squinted at him, weighing him up. Like the others, there was nothing to inspire dreams of wealth in his thin frame. Julius realized the captain was simply enjoying himself at their expense. Taking pleasure from having the arrogant officers of Rome reduced to bargaining with an enemy. Yet what choice did they have? If the pirate demanded too much and their families could not borrow the money, or worse, refused to, then a quick death would follow. It was hard not to play the game.

“I think, for the lowest rank, I will ask for two talents—five hundred in gold.”

Suetonius spluttered, though Julius knew his family could pay that easily, or ten times that amount.

“Gods, man. They do not have the money!” Suetonius said, his unkempt body lending the feel of truth to the words.