The Blood of Gods A Novel of Rome - By Conn Iggulden Page 0,113

was always danger, but galleys were safe enough when they could head for shore and beach themselves. It was only when a madman like him ordered them into deep water that they became vulnerable.

A wave rushed over the bow, drenching him and making him shiver. Rain began to pound the flat deck, reducing visibility even further. Sextus peered out to the distant coast, just a dim line in the grey. He needed to reach shelter before the full storm struck, but the way it looked, his crews would have to endure a battering before they were around the point. When he caught glimpses of the other ships, he saw more and more of them had been forced to pull the oars in or sink. Only the huge double steering oars at the stern could guide them then. Through the spray and mist, he could see galleys wandering away over the sea, soldiers climbing the masts to shout sightings to those below. He groaned, knowing he’d be lucky not to lose a few crews. He wished Vedius were there, but his second in command had been the only man he could trust with the other half of his fleet. Vedius would not betray him, he was certain. He had also left instructions with two others for him to be quietly murdered if he did.

Sextus felt an itch at the back of his neck and when he turned, he was not surprised to see Lavinia there, holding on to the main mast. One hand shaded her eyes as she stared into the distance and he thought she looked like a ghost, with her cloak whipping around her in the wind and her features unnaturally pale. He left his place on the prow and walked back to her, staggering slightly on the heaving deck.

‘I can’t be worrying about you as well as the ship,’ he said. ‘What’s wrong with your cabin?’

Lavinia raised her eyes to him.

‘I needed to breathe, that’s all. There’s no air down below and the ship is rolling and jumping about like a mad thing.’

Despite his concern, he smiled at her martyred tone. He reached out with his free hand to push back a lock of her sodden hair where it had fallen over her face.

‘It won’t last much longer, I promise. We’ll be round the point soon and the sea will be calmer after that.’

He glanced again at the storm clouds and she read the worry in his expression, her nervousness increasing.

‘It’s going to get worse?’ she said.

He grinned to reassure her. ‘We are the lucky ones, remember? We’ll come through.’

It was an old and bitter joke between them. Their family had suffered far more than its fair share of misfortune. If any luck still clung to the Pompey name, it would surely fall on Sextus and Lavinia. She rolled her eyes at the feeble attempt to cheer her up. Her brother saw her shivering and realised her cloak was wet through with spray.

‘You’ll freeze if you stay up here,’ he said.

‘No more than you will,’ she retorted. ‘At least I am away from the smell of sweat and vomit. It is … unpleasant down below.’

‘You’ll survive,’ he said, without sympathy. ‘Don’t we always? I told you I’d look after you and here I have a fine fleet at my command.’

As he spoke, the galley gave a great lurch as it missed the peak of a wave and crashed down into the trough. Lavinia yelped and he wrapped his arm around his sister and the mast, holding on to them both.

‘I think I preferred it when you were a pirate,’ she said. ‘At least you brought me jewels then.’

‘Which you sold and invested! I gave you those to enjoy, not to be sensible.’

‘One of us has to be,’ she said. ‘When this is over, I’ll need a dowry. And you’ll need funds for a house if you’re ever to have a family of your own.’

He hugged her tighter then, recalling a thousand conversations in harder times. As children, they had lost everything but their father’s name and a few loyal servants who still honoured Gnaeus Pompey. At the darkest moments, they had talked of the lives they would have one day, with a house and servants and peace: just silence and peace, with no one threatening them or hunting them down.

‘I’m glad to know you are still looking out for me,’ he said. ‘But it would please me more if you’d go down and find a good cloak I