Return to Me - By Morgan O'Neill Page 0,19

meantime, we must get a meal, provisions, and a place to stay. Suggest a good taberna.”

“Most are shuttered for now, because the docks are near empty,” the first worker answered, and then pointed to the north end of the wharf. “Only the gambling houses and brothels are left, and you can find them that way.”

Magnus glanced in the direction the man pointed, and then grinned. “All the better. I thank you.”

The workers laughed as Magnus remounted.

Once they were out of earshot, Gigi said, “Every route is closed. What are we going to do? And you aren’t serious about going to a brothel, are you?”

“Not to worry,” Magnus replied. “I hope to the gods this works out. I think a brothel may well be just the place to find someone willing to risk his life and his ship for some coin.”

They turned a corner and arrived at the busy street. The walls of the buildings were covered with graffiti depicting every imaginable type of copulation, some acrobatic beyond belief.

Gigi hid her smile. The street was crowded with men, mostly drunk soldiers and sailors. A hawker stood outside a gambling den, loudly proclaiming that his establishment had more winners than any other. Farther along, a naked woman danced seductively in front of a brothel, letting passersby touch and fondle her as she enticed them to go inside.

To her surprise, Magnus chose to dismount here. Gigi watched as he tweaked the prostitute’s nipple, then spoke in her ear. He’s playing a part, she reminded herself, shaking her head, and I have to play mine.

The dancer stopped moving, pouted, and shook her head, then pointed to a brothel several doors down.

Magnus gave her a coin and then patted her butt, before he turned and smiled at Gigi, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Follow me, wife.”

Once they picked their way along the crowded street and reached the second brothel, a young boy dashed out of the door to take their horses. Magnus helped Gigi dismount, and exclaimed, “I’m sure we’ll like this place.”

“I doubt it,” Gigi grumbled under her breath in English.

She saw a smile flash across Magnus’s face, just as they ducked inside. The interior had tables filled with noisy patrons and nearly naked prostitutes. It smelled of crushed rosemary, and Gigi guessed the floor was strewn with the stuff in a decent attempt to mask earthier odors.

A beautifully clothed woman approached, and Gigi thought the madam looked surprisingly upscale and clean, her hair and makeup tastefully done. She wore gorgeous gold and turquoise earrings, and a necklace of turquoise and pearls.

“How may we serve you, brother?” the madam asked Magnus pleasantly.

“Are you the owner?”

“I am. My name is Vespera. Would you like to see girls? Women? Boys? We can accommodate any desire.” She glanced at Gigi’s gold ring. “Will your wife be enjoying our services, or would you rather she wait? We have a very lovely, very private garden in the back.”

“May we all go into the garden for a moment?” Magnus asked.

Vespera tipped her head and led the way.

The open-air courtyard was tiny, the surrounding walls three stories high and covered in flowering vines. There was a table and two benches, and a small, bubbling fountain in one corner. It was an oasis compared to the interior.

Vespera turned, hands clasped before her. “Obviously, you wish to speak with me of something other than my regular business. I run an honest establishment and will not be bribed. What do you want?”

“I believe you know my uncle, Decimus Pontius Flavus.”

Vespera gasped and stepped back, her hand at her throat. “I have not heard that name in a very long time — a time belonging to another life.”

Surprised, Gigi looked from one to the other. Magnus hadn’t mentioned having any connections in town.

“I hope he is well?” Vespera asked, the glimmer of tears in her eyes.

Magnus’s expression wavered slightly, his brow furrowing. “The last I heard, indeed, he was enjoying his old age.”

“I remember a nephew of his,” she said cautiously, while studying Magnus’s eyes, “one he doted on … Quintus?”

Magnus bowed his head. “Quintus Pontius Flavus. I am called Magnus, now. This is my wife, Gigi.”

She nodded toward Gigi before turning her attention back to Magnus. She straightened and squared her shoulders. “How may I help you?”

“We need to sail out of here tonight, without fail. I can pay.”

Vespera heaved a sigh, and then tilted her head back, thinking. “I know of one sailor. He could acquire a ship, without permission of course, but