“You think you’ll heal, Brutus?” he said. “What if I had the men take you somewhere quiet and smash your arm properly? They could shatter your hand so badly you’d never use a sword again.”

Octavian smiled as he saw a trace of fear in Brutus’s eyes.

“That would hurt you, wouldn’t it? You’d never ride a horse, or write your name, even. That would break the arrogance out of you at last.”

“Ah, you’re a noble man, Octavian,” Brutus said. “I wish I had your principles.”

Octavian went on, his hatred barely in check. “One more word out of you and I’ll do it. No one will stop me, not to save you. They know you deserve it. Go on, General. One more word.”

Brutus stared at him for a long time, then shook his head in disgust before turning and walking away from the group. Octavian nodded sharply, shaking with reaction. He hardly felt Domitius’s grip on his shoulder, steadying him.

“You shouldn’t let it show,” Domitius said softly, looking after the broken man he had once revered.

Octavian snorted. “I can’t help it. After all he’s done, he stands with us as if he has a right. I don’t know what Julius was thinking, bringing him here.”

“Neither do I,” Domitius replied. “It’s between them, though.”

Regulus hissed in a breath, making them all turn back to the sea. As the sun sank in the west, the galleys were moving, their great oars sweeping them in toward the dock.

Octavian looked at the others. “Until we know he is safe, I want the men in formation to repel an attack. Get spears ready. Domitius, have the extraordinarii stand back as foot reserves. They’re no good to us here.”

Caesar’s generals moved away quickly to give the orders, not thinking to question his right to command them. Octavian was left alone to watch the galleys sweep in.

The little port could not take all six of the ships that clustered around the bay. Two of them came in together and Octavian watched as one bank of oars withdrew, leaving the other to scull the final gap to the dock. In the gloom, he could hardly make out the details of the great corvus bridges that were sent crashing down. Crewmen carrying ropes thumped across them and then Octavian saw Julius on the wooden slope. He sagged in relief.

Julius raised an arm in formal greeting. “Are the men ready to board, General?” he called.

“They are, sir,” Octavian replied, smiling. Julius could still astonish him, he realized with amusement.

“Then get them on. There is no time to waste. The galleys carried his horses only two days ago—we have almost closed the gap.” He paused, feeling again the thrill of the hunt. “Tell them there are good stocks of food on board and they’ll move a little faster.”