We will, son." Nothing happened. The fishing boat continued to bob gently where it was. I was aware that Geminus was taking his ease, completely unconcerned. Eventually, I managed to squint around enough to see his companion. Gornia, Pa's warehouse assistant. Beside him, my belt had been looped around a spar and my boots upended on the rowlocks to drain. Both Pa and Gornia were wearing hats. They had draped a tiny piece of sacking to provide shade for me. The August sun sparkled off the ocean, its light implacable and dazzling. I could not face the major issue of why my father just happened to be drifting about the Tyrrhenian Sea. So I lost myself in wondering why Gornia, who ought to be supervising the warehouse back at the Saepta Julia in Rome, was instead sitting with my father in the same ridiculous boat. The answer was beyond me. Gornia, a little old chap who had spent many years with my father, just sat there and grinned at me with almost toothless gums. I did not waste effort on an appeal to him. He always let Pa take the lead in conversation, and Pa was a master of holding back essential facts. Gornia could have worked at some respectable establishment, where the pay would have been as scanty and the hours as long, but he gave the strange impression he enjoyed the thrills at the Geminus cavern of mysteries.
Take me home, please, Pa!"
All in good time, boy." Nothing had changed. I could have been five years old again, overtired and overfed with honeyed dates, at some long-winded auctioneers" party to which Pa had been told to take me to get me out from under Mother's feet for few hours. With two young children of my own, I knew all too well how to respond. I want to go home now."
Not yet, son." I gave up. Maybe I had really drowned and this was a nightmare in Hades. Pa, is it too much to ask, exactly what are you doing here?"
Just a quiet fishing trip, Marcus."
Sharks?" I snarled, thinking of Uncle Fulvius. I could see a couple of lines dangling overboard, though neither Pa nor Gornia was paying them any attention. I could not remember my father going fishing before, ever. He was a grilled-pork man. Or as we used to joke, roast peacock, if ever he could impose himself on a dinner party where the host served such a luxury to spongers. Since nothing would ever happen until my annoying parent decided he was ready, I roused myself a little and struggled out of my wet tunic. Gornia kindly spread it out to dry. Pa gave me a flask of water. After tentatively sipping, I recovered enough to ask if he knew where exactly Fulvius had spent his exile after he missed that ship to Pessinus. Pa looked surprised, but answered, Some dump called Salonae."
Where's that?" Pa shrugged. I prodded, Is it in Illyria?"
Well…" He had known all along. I think it's more north." I did not believe him. Not Dyrrhachium?"
I told you, Salonae."
What was Fulvius doing there?"
Bit of this, bit of that."
Don't wriggle. This could be serious." I had some more water. Bit of what, Pa?"
Serious, how?"
Uncle Fulvius could soon be arrested."
For what?" Pa seemed alarmed.
Piracy."
You are joking, son!"
No. What has he been doing in Illyria, do you know?"
Just buying and selling." That would give Fulvius an appeal to Pa; anyone in commerce overseas was a potential contact. Before I could ask, selling what, my father volunteered, He was a supplier to the Ravenna Fleet. A negotiator."
Negotiator covers a whole range of business, legitimate or otherwise."
You look as if you're going to be sick again, lad," said Pa earnestly.
Don't distract me. I'll be fine if you ever row me back to land. I'm wet and I'm cold, and I've had a bad experience. If you hadn't turned up, I would have drowned. I am grateful, believe me, I am very grateful, but why can't we go? For heavens" sake, I'll buy you some damned fish. I'll get you a whole bloody swordfish and let you say you caught it yourself, Pa." Pa let me rant. When I stopped, he just said peacefully, We can't go yet." I looked at Gornia. The emaciated porter just grinned. Both he and my father seemed strangely at home out here.
Whose boat is this?" I demanded suspiciously.
Mine," said Pa. That was news. It was an old boat. How long had my father had a boat?
Where do you keep it, and what is it for?" Pa just smiled at me. I tried again. Do you often row out as far as this, and just sit whistling under the sky?"
Very health-giving."
