and Utti’s cauliflower ears all over the place. The only consolation was that Sabina stayed below in her quarters and Fabius was quite spectacularly seasick.
But the upshot was that, after a full twelve days at sea, Claudia did not have the inclination to make the lumpy, bumpy half-day wagon ride back to Agrigentum. Early days, she thought. No hurry. She stood up and straightened a ring on her finger. Tomorrow, she’d see what Sullium had to offer. Because something had to be happening in this tedious little backwater.
Hadn’t it?
*
It was the painted eye which first caught his own. The carved and painted eye which adorned the prow and kept watch for evil spirits. Seemingly alone, it bobbed quietly and unblinkingly on the bright blue swell, gazing up at the cottonball clouds. Then gradually more and more shattered planks hove into sight, and finally Marcus Cornelius Orbilio lent his strong arm to hauling up the bodies. Unlike the eye, these floated face downwards, staring at the sponges and the seaweed, their fingers and arms and necks and ears glistening with jewels which they had hastily crammed on to ensure that whoever found them would have the wherewithal to give them a good funeral.
Two of the men had killed themselves, rather than face death by drowning. They recovered nine bodies in total. And that was just on the first day of his voyage.
Everyone knew about the storm in the Ionian, three tortuous days of it, though the helmsman assured him she’d blown herself out.
He was right, and the knowledge did not make Orbilio feel better.
Faster than a racing chariot, the trireme, sleek and light, cleaved a lovely line through the water. It had set out at first light the morning after he had called at Claudia’s house, but by then, as he learned from her Macedonian steward, Claudia had already been gone a week. Except…
The flautist, piping time for the oarsmen, changed his key, indicating that they would shortly be putting in to harbour. This would be what, Orbilio’s seventh night with the navy? He’d really hoped to catch up by now. Unfortunately, as much as the warship made brilliant speed on the water, two hundred men do need to eat and sleep and for that, they put ashore. Swings and roundabouts, he thought. Swings and roundabouts.
Claudia, too, would be held up. Assuming she was safe (praise Jupiter she was, he had no way of knowing), the storm would have added two days to her voyage. Also, he knew the Furrina was bound only for Syracuse. Changing ships would add a further day—and suppose she went sightseeing? Or took the overland route?
Gulls wheeled and shrieked as the boat shipped oars. Anchors were heaved over the side. Tired oarsmen, their stiffened, corded muscles glistening with sweat, checked the money in their purses. They were responsible for their own rations, and would have to purchase them ashore.
Orbilio watched the dark waters claim the last segment of the sun. The waning moon was already high. Tomorrow would be the tenth day of October. He might, if the gods were with him, arrive in Fintium before her.
He hoped he was not too late.
VII
Claudia tapped her foot impatiently outside the mercer’s shop. Dear Diana, how much longer would that tiresome woman be in there? They were only cushions, for gods’ sake! However, Matidia was having unconscionable difficulty. Should one go for all red or should one opt for several different colours? The problem was, once one entered the realms of variety, other decisions were then thrust upon one, such as should one choose blue with green stripes, purple with a red border or gold and green, and really, ought one to co-ordinate the stripes so they ran either all vertically or all horizontally? What did Claudia think?
What Claudia thought was that if Matidia hadn’t made up her mind after half an hour, the chances were she wouldn’t do it at all, and she was trying to find a way to phrase it politely when Matidia added:
‘It’s so important
But the upshot was that, after a full twelve days at sea, Claudia did not have the inclination to make the lumpy, bumpy half-day wagon ride back to Agrigentum. Early days, she thought. No hurry. She stood up and straightened a ring on her finger. Tomorrow, she’d see what Sullium had to offer. Because something had to be happening in this tedious little backwater.
Hadn’t it?
*
It was the painted eye which first caught his own. The carved and painted eye which adorned the prow and kept watch for evil spirits. Seemingly alone, it bobbed quietly and unblinkingly on the bright blue swell, gazing up at the cottonball clouds. Then gradually more and more shattered planks hove into sight, and finally Marcus Cornelius Orbilio lent his strong arm to hauling up the bodies. Unlike the eye, these floated face downwards, staring at the sponges and the seaweed, their fingers and arms and necks and ears glistening with jewels which they had hastily crammed on to ensure that whoever found them would have the wherewithal to give them a good funeral.
Two of the men had killed themselves, rather than face death by drowning. They recovered nine bodies in total. And that was just on the first day of his voyage.
Everyone knew about the storm in the Ionian, three tortuous days of it, though the helmsman assured him she’d blown herself out.
He was right, and the knowledge did not make Orbilio feel better.
Faster than a racing chariot, the trireme, sleek and light, cleaved a lovely line through the water. It had set out at first light the morning after he had called at Claudia’s house, but by then, as he learned from her Macedonian steward, Claudia had already been gone a week. Except…
The flautist, piping time for the oarsmen, changed his key, indicating that they would shortly be putting in to harbour. This would be what, Orbilio’s seventh night with the navy? He’d really hoped to catch up by now. Unfortunately, as much as the warship made brilliant speed on the water, two hundred men do need to eat and sleep and for that, they put ashore. Swings and roundabouts, he thought. Swings and roundabouts.
Claudia, too, would be held up. Assuming she was safe (praise Jupiter she was, he had no way of knowing), the storm would have added two days to her voyage. Also, he knew the Furrina was bound only for Syracuse. Changing ships would add a further day—and suppose she went sightseeing? Or took the overland route?
Gulls wheeled and shrieked as the boat shipped oars. Anchors were heaved over the side. Tired oarsmen, their stiffened, corded muscles glistening with sweat, checked the money in their purses. They were responsible for their own rations, and would have to purchase them ashore.
Orbilio watched the dark waters claim the last segment of the sun. The waning moon was already high. Tomorrow would be the tenth day of October. He might, if the gods were with him, arrive in Fintium before her.
He hoped he was not too late.
VII
Claudia tapped her foot impatiently outside the mercer’s shop. Dear Diana, how much longer would that tiresome woman be in there? They were only cushions, for gods’ sake! However, Matidia was having unconscionable difficulty. Should one go for all red or should one opt for several different colours? The problem was, once one entered the realms of variety, other decisions were then thrust upon one, such as should one choose blue with green stripes, purple with a red border or gold and green, and really, ought one to co-ordinate the stripes so they ran either all vertically or all horizontally? What did Claudia think?
What Claudia thought was that if Matidia hadn’t made up her mind after half an hour, the chances were she wouldn’t do it at all, and she was trying to find a way to phrase it politely when Matidia added:
‘It’s so important
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