Pompey smiled tightly to himself. Even Julius could not conjure a fleet out of nothing. Pompey’s army would have nearly a year to prepare for the invasion and then, well, let them come after that.

As Suetonius approached, Pompey noted the high polish on his armor and approved. The senator had made himself indispensable over the previous weeks. In addition, Pompey knew his hatred of Caesar was absolute. It was good to have a man who could be trusted, and Pompey knew that Suetonius would never be one of those who questioned his orders.

“Your boat is ready, sir,” Suetonius said.

Pompey nodded stiffly. “I was having a last look at my country,” he replied. “It will be a while until I stand here again.”

“It will come, though, sir. Greece is like a second home to many of the men. We’ll end Caesar’s betrayal there.”

“We will indeed,” Pompey said.

A waft of smoke from the burning merchant ship passed over both of them, and he shivered slightly. There had been times when he thought he would never get out of the city before Caesar’s legions appeared on the horizon. He had not even made the offerings in the temples that he should have, convinced that every minute counted. Now, though, even if he saw his enemy riding toward him, he could stroll down into the boat and go to the ships, leaving them all behind. It was his first unhurried moment in the best part of two weeks, and he felt himself relax.

“I wonder if he is already in the city, Suetonius,” Pompey said softly.

“Perhaps, sir. He will not be there for long if he is.”

Both men stood staring east, as if they could see the place that had birthed them. Pompey grimaced as he remembered the silent crowds that had lined the streets as his legion marched to the coast. Thousands and thousands of his people had come to watch the exodus. They had not dared to call out, even from the deepest sections of the crowd. They knew him too well for that. He had seen their expressions though and resented them. What right did they have to stare so as Pompey passed by? He had given them his best years. He had been senator, consul, and Dictator. He had destroyed the rebellion of Spartacus and more small kings and rebels than he could remember. Even Romans like Titus Milo had fallen to him when they threatened his people. He had been father to the city all his life, and like the children they were, they stood in sullen silence, as if they owed him nothing.