Pertinax looked as if he was really seeing me at last. Yet his arrogance was barely dented. I think he failed to grasp how for the second time since their plot had failed he was threatened with a jail term, while his associates were coolly abandoning him. I almost pitied his plight-but when someone wants to kill me, my better nature fades.
I stood with my feet planted slightly apart, aware of the shifting deck beneath them, and the fragility of the Isis after the Sea Scorpion's workaday bulk.
Pertinax shot a wizened glance at Crispus, evidently supposing he would be arrested too. Crispus shrugged, and failed to enlighten him. I nodded to Milo. Since the skiff we had come across in was too small to take more than three, Milo transferred first to the Sea Scorpion with the prisoner, then sent it back empty for Gordianus and me.
While we waited none of us spoke.
The skiff came creeping back towards the yacht. Crispus exchanged courtesies with Gordianus, wishing him well for his position at Paestum. They both ignored me with a sort of polite deference, as if they were at a highly important banquet and had spotted a happy weevil winking out from a bread roll.
I myself was in no mood for self-congratulation. The sight of Atius Pertinax only made me feel sour. Until I landed him in a very solid jail cell, I would not relax.
I sent Gordianus down into the skiff first.
'Well, thanks for the delivery, sir!' The yacht rolled, such a delicate craft that the motion disturbed my balance; I grabbed at the rail. 'You can rely on Vespasian's gratitude.'
'I'm glad,' smiled Crispus. Here on his yacht in his holiday clothes, he looked older and shabbier than when he was fired with confidence at the Villa Poppaea-though more like a man you could go out with on a fishing trip.
'That so?' I asked levelly. 'So I can rule you out of any wicked schemes I've found involving Egyptian grain ships?'
'Dropped it,' Crispus admitted, frankly enough apparently.
'What-no joy from the fleet?'
He made no attempt to repudiate the plan. 'Oh, the commander and the trierarchs will drink with anyone who pays for the liquor-but the marines all think of themselves as soldiers. Give your man his credit, Falco; Vespasian has the army's full loyalty.'
'They know Vespasian is a good general, sir.'
'Well, let's hope he makes a good Emperor too.'
I studied his face. Helena was right; he took his losses casually, however large the stake. If they were losses. The only way to find out was to give him his head, then watch him.
As I swung over the rail ready to descend, Crispus steadied my arm. 'Thanks. I meant what I said; I imagine you can ask Vespasian for whatever post you want,' I promised, still trying to salvage him.
Aufidius Crispus flashed a sly glance down at the skiff where Gordianus had slewed in the bow in his usual lumpish style. 'I'll need more than a damned priesthood then!'
I grinned. 'Ask away! Good luck, sir; see you in Rome…'
Perhaps.