The Blood of Gods A Novel of Rome - By Conn Iggulden Page 0,121

why are you here?’ Agrippa said. He spoke to break the tension before it suffocated him. ‘I mean, here on the ships.’

‘You know why,’ Maecenas said. ‘I don’t trust you on your own.’

Even in the gloom, they could both see the other man’s teeth as they grinned together. The sound of oars and drums seemed to grow every minute and Agrippa found his heart was racing like prey running from a wolf pack. The wind roared around his ears, making him turn his head back and forth to hear the enemy.

‘Why really?’ he said louder, almost shouting.

As far as he could tell, the enemy galleys were almost on them and he tensed for the first crash of bronze rams into wood. There was no pretence of navigation any longer. The rowers below just heaved and pulled, putting every ounce of strength into each sweep.

‘The same reason you are risking your neck in complete darkness!’ Maecenas shouted back. ‘For him. It’s always for him.’

‘I know,’ Agrippa called back. ‘Do you think he knows how you feel?’

‘How I what?’ Maecenas yelled incredulously. ‘How I feel? Are you seriously choosing this moment, with our lives in the balance, to tell me you think I’m in love with Octavian? You pompous bastard! I can’t believe this!’

‘I just thought …’

‘You thought wrong, you ignorant great ape! Gods, I come out here to face brutal enemies with you – on the sea, no less – and this is what I get? Octavian and I are friends, you great hairy shit-pot. Friends.’

Maecenas broke off as a thunderous crack sounded somewhere close. Men screamed and splashes followed, but the night was like black ink and they could hardly tell where the sounds had come from or whether it was one of their own crews drowning in the dark.

‘You and I will have words about this when it’s over!’ Maecenas snapped. ‘I’d call you out with blades right now if I could see you, if you weren’t the only one who knows how these galleys fight.’

In the face of his appalled indignation, he heard Agrippa laugh. Maecenas almost struck him.

‘You’re a good man, Maecenas,’ Agrippa said, his white teeth still visible in the darkness.

If Maecenas could have seen him, he’d have been worried at the great cords standing out on Agrippa’s neck and chest, every muscle and sinew drawn tight in fear and rage at the enemy. Agrippa was manic, unable to act with enemies all around him and no way of knowing if he’d be drowning at any moment. Talking to Maecenas had helped a little.

‘I am a good man, ape. And so are you. Now please tell me we can outrun these galleys.’

Agrippa looked east, praying for the first light of the sun to appear. He could feel the galley creaking and stretching under him, a thing alive. Salt droplets sprayed across the deck, stinging his face with cold.

‘I don’t know,’ he muttered.

Vedius stepped back from the prow of the galley, trying to see into the plunging blackness. Whoever was out there, they had a lot of ships. There had been a moment when he thought he’d fallen into some sort of trap, but then they’d run, their oars scything through the sea and churning it into white froth. He’d ordered full attack speed and closed the gap quickly on the strange, dark vessels running free before him. For a brief time, he called for ram speed. The galleys skimmed across the calm waters, driven as fast as they could go. He knew the rowers could not keep the brutal pace for long. Ram speed was the final surge of acceleration before striking an enemy, a hundred heartbeats at most before they had to fall back. His head came round in a jerk when he heard some sort of crash, but he could see nothing and the men below were already failing.

‘Ease back to half!’ he roared. He heard the falling horn note drone out, but there was still a bellow of fear behind him as one of his ships came close to ripping the oars off another.

Vedius turned to one of his archers.

‘Do you have pitch arrows?’ he shouted.

‘Yes, sir,’ the man replied.

Fire was not the tool it might have been at sea. The lumps of pitch and tar-cloth on the points robbed the arrows of decent range. In a close battle, Vedius had used them before against merchant ships, but mostly when the fighting was over and he had orders to burn them to the