Priscus sent me a tight smile.“Theoretically.But when you make slaves of conquered peoples, their defiance remains.Even after generations, the spirits of their ancestors fill them.It is not the best system, but without the labor of slaves, Rome ceases to function.”
I wondered what Cassia would say to this.She was certainly like no other slave I’d encountered, including myself.
Ostia’s harbor spread from the mouth of the Tiber to the sea.The day was fine after yesterday’s rain, high clouds forming shadows on the deep blue water.
A building under construction at the harbor mouth sported a tall crane, with several men walking inside a giant treadwheel to raise a large block of stone into the air.A small man with a pouch of scrolls slung over his shoulder watched, hands on hips, as the block moved higher and swung out over the roof, where more men waited to guide the block into place.
Additional cranes worked the wharves, hauling goods into and out of the ships docked there.
The number of vessels roaming the harbor astonished me.The high decks teemed with men, and oars lifted and fell in tight precision, flashing in the sunlight.
I would like to come to this place at my leisure, to gawp at the ships and watch them maneuver.The thought that I was free to do so whenever I wished was a jolt.Freedom was difficult to grow used to.
We took a street lined with tall buildings that blocked our view of the harbor.Colonnades formed shaded walkways, though we kept to the middle of the street with Priscus’s horse and the donkey.Ostia did not have the restriction on private vehicles during the day that Rome did, and so we had to move aside for wagons and carriages.Priscus wore his toga with the purple stripe, revealing he was a man of high rank, but he did not insist all give way for him.
He turned his horse abruptly into a side lane, and I was hard-pressed to keep up with him.We hadn’t gone far before Priscus dismounted and moved quickly toward a dark doorway.
I dared to step in front of him and put my hand on his chest to stop him from charging inside the building.Ignoring his glare, I told him to stand still and ducked through the doorway myself, quickly stepping out of the block of light to let my eyes adjust to the gloom.
Six men waited in a large, empty room.Its concrete rubble walls were unadorned, touched by sunlight trickling through tiny windows high above.A dove fluttered in one of the window openings, uncertain it wanted to enter this dusty and cold place.
All the men were armed.Swords glinted at sides, knives rested in belts.They were not soldiers—ordinary sailors, I’d have said, except for the man at their head.He had the thickset body and stance of a fighting man.
“You were to come alone.”His accent put him from outside Rome.
“My bodyguard insisted it was too dangerous,” Priscus said apologetically.He’d entered without waiting for my signal, and he led the casket-laden donkey by its rope.“I have the money.Where is my cargo?”
The man frowned at his bluntness.“We are to take you to it.Alone.”His scowl took in the men who flanked Priscus, and me.
“I go with him,” I said before Priscus could speak.
The lead man peered at me, taking a step forward to squint through the semi-darkness.His eyes widened.“Jupiter.You’re Leonidas the Spartan.”
“Was.”I gripped my sword.“I go with Priscus.He will pay, you will give him the cargo, and we will leave.”
The leader did not appear happy, but he shrugged.“Very well,” he said to me.“You and Decimus Laelius Priscus.No other.”
Priscus nodded.“It shall be done.”
He was a fool.These men would murder Priscus once they cornered him alone, taking the money and fleeing.Or they might kidnap him and hold him for high ransom in order to pry even more cash out of him.
Priscus didn’t seem bothered by either prospect.He quietly told his retainers to remain behind, then stood and waited for the sailors to lead us out.
They headed for a far door, me directly behind them, then Priscus with the donkey.The lead man fell into step with me, saying nothing.
The small door in the back of the empty warehouse opened to a noisome alley, an excellent place for an ambush and assassination.Neither happened.The sailors hurried toward the daylight at the alley’s end, as though they worried about being waylaid here themselves.
We emerged into a much-congested main street.The lead man took a grip on the donkey’s bridle and marched us in a clump toward the harbor.
A figure in a cloak with a basket scuttled behind us, melding with the crowd but easily keeping pace.Neither the sailors nor Priscus noted her.
The lead man turned us onto a long dock that reached into the water.This wharf was lined with old wooden buildings that all seemed to be empty, no one in sight.Unused, probably slated to be torn down and replaced.
The sailors expected Priscus to follow them onto this deserted dock with no outlet, with his money, and only me as bodyguard.
I stepped in front of the lead man.“No.You bring the cargo to us now.”
As my last word fell, a sharp cry sounded down the dock.From one of the many doorways sprang a man, slim-limbed and dressed in a slave’s tunic, running hard at us, knife in hand.Several more men, armed, came after him.
