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"Can't you sleep, either? Isn't the baggage wagon comfortable enough?"

"Lumpy," growled Tiro. "Fortex and I take turns dozing. I'm still not convinced that Antony hasn't recognized me."

"Antony hasn't even looked at you. Nobody notices slaves, unless they're young and beautiful."

"Still, each night, I expect to be strangled in my sleep."

I thought of the wagon driver, strangled in his delirium, but said nothing.

"What happens tomorrow, Gordianus?"

"I don't know. If I'm lucky, I'll see Meto."

"And Caesar as well?"

"Perhaps."

"Take me with you."

I frowned. "I thought you came all this way to see Pompey, not Caesar."

"So I did. This is my exit from Italy, Gordianus. I intend to be on Pompey's ship when he sets sail for Dyrrhachium."

"You never told me that."

"You didn't need to know. But before I go, as long as the opportunity presents itself, I should like to have a peek inside Caesar's tent."

"So that you can assassinate him?"

"Don't joke, Gordianus. I only want to have a look. One never knows what might be useful later."

"You want me to help you spy on Caesar?"

"You owe me a favor, Gordianus. Could you have traveled all the way from Rome this quickly, without me?"

"Could you have survived the last four days without me lying for you, Tiro? I think we're even."

"Then do this for me as a favor, and I'll do a favor for you. Isn't it your intention to get into Brundisium, to retrieve your son-in-law from Pompey?"

"If I can."

"How do you plan to get inside the city walls, with Caesar's army on one side and Pompey's on the other?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted.

"I can get you inside, alive and in one piece. You'll come with me and Fortex. But in return for that favor, I want you to take me along when you see Meto- and Caesar."

I shook my head. "Impossible. Caesar is even more likely than Antony to recognize you. Caesar has dined in Cicero's house! He must have seen you many times, and not just taking shorthand in the Senate."

"Seen me, yes, but never really looked at me. You said it yourself, Gordianus: nobody notices slaves."

"Caesar notices everything. You're risking your head, Tiro."

"Perhaps not. What if he does recognize me? Caesar is eager to be known for his clemency."

"Clemency for senators and generals, Tiro, not for freedmen and spies."

"I'll take my chances. If anyone asks who I am, you'll say I'm Soscarides, Meto's old tutor."

"And what about Meto? Is he supposed to go along with the lie as well?"

"Do this for me, Gordianus! If you want to get into Brundisium before your son-in-law is dead on the ramparts or sailing off to Dyrrhachium, do me this favor."

"I'll sleep on it," I said, suddenly very weary. I yawned. When I opened my eyes, Tiro had disappeared. I returned to the tent.

Despite my worries, despite the horrors I had witnessed that day, sleep came swiftly, but not without dreams. It was not flames or drowning water, or mountain passes and forced marches I dreamed about. It was the girl Aemilia, Numerius's lover. I saw her with a baby in her arms, smiling and content. I felt a great sense of relief and stepped closer to have a look, but stumbled against something at my feet. I looked down to see the body of Numerius, which somehow was also the body of the wagon driver, a garrote twisted tight around his throat. Aemilia's baby had vanished. She shuddered and wept. The front of her gown was soaked with blood between her legs.

I woke with a start. Antony loomed above me, his eyes bloodshot.

"Dawn, Gordianus! Time for me to report to Caesar, and for you to see your son. Piss if you need to. Then round up those two slaves of yours and we're off."

• • •

Before we rode down to the main camp, Antony wanted a last look at the breakwater from the hill. There were clouds overhead, but the horizon was clear. The rising sun in our eyes and its scintillating reflection on the water made it difficult to see, but the wreckage of the flaming ship appeared to have been removed during the night. Men were busy repairing the damage to the breakwater, and construction continued. "Vitruvius is down there now," said Antony. "He told me last night that he hopes to add another raft to each end of the breakwater by the end of the day, to further close the gap. The ships that sailed in yesterday will have a harder time sailing out!"

We rode down onto the plain. Antony was attended by a small staff of officers. I was accompanied by Tiro and Fortex, for whom horses were found. The camp was like a city, probably more populous than the city being besieged and surely more orderly, with its row upon row of precisely spaced tents. Some of the soldiers stood in lines awaiting morning rations. Others, already fed and outfitted for battle, were marching off to man the trenches and earthworks and siege machines below the city walls.

I was astounded by the speed with which Caesar had been able to move such vast numbers of men and equipment. Ten days before, the plain outside Brundisium had been empty; now it was home to thirty-six thousand men, every one of whom appeared to know exactly where he should be and what he should be doing at that moment. Thirty days before, not one of these men had been within two hundred miles of Brundisium, and Domitius still held Corfinium. Sixty days before, Caesar had only just crossed the Rubicon. The scale and swiftness of the operation was awesome. I pitied the Gauls who had confronted such a force. I despaired for Pompey.

We passed a guarded checkpoint, where Antony vouched for me. As we drew closer to the center of the camp, he fell back beside me. I saw him cast a wary glance at Tiro and Fortex, as if seeing them for the first time.

"You are sure, Gordianus, that you can vouch for your two slaves?"

I barely hesitated. "Of course. Why do you ask?"

"No reason, really. It's only, ever since we crossed the Rubicon- before that, actually- there's been a rumor…"

"What sort of rumor?"

"A plot. To assassinate Caesar. Wild talk, of course."

I felt a chill up my spine. "Does Caesar take it seriously?"

"Caesar thinks he's immortal! But what man isn't made of flesh and blood?" He groaned from his hangover and massaged his temples. "It's only- you see, every time I vouch for you, I'm vouching for your slaves as well. Of course, you're above suspicion, Gordianus. That goes without saying. But the slaves who travel with you-"

"I take complete responsibility for my slaves, Tribune." I kept my eyes straight ahead.

"Of course, Gordianus. I meant no offense." He gave me a firm slap on the back, then rode up to rejoin his men. He didn't give Tiro and Fortex another look.

I steadied myself with a deep breath, then looked sidelong at Tiro. It seemed to me that he clutched his reins too tightly, but his face betrayed no expression. He had overheard, of course; Antony was not the sort to lower his voice for the benefit of slaves. I thought of Daniel in the lion's den, a tale Bethesda told, handed down by her Hebrew father. Was that how Tiro felt, riding into Caesar's camp, led by a tribune who would gladly flay him alive? Yet here he was, despite his fear. I wondered if I could summon as much courage in the coming hours.

We came to a large tent, more elaborate than the others, made of red canvas embroidered with gold and decorated with pennants. Messengers on horseback waited in a line outside the entrance. As we approached, a soldier stepped out of the tent, conveyed an order to the first messenger, and the man was off. Meanwhile, another messenger came riding up, dismounted, and rushed into the tent.

"Morning reconnaissance," explained Antony. "Intelligence reports come in, orders go out. It's a beehive in there."

"Perhaps I should wait outside."

"Nonsense. Just mind that you don't get trampled." He climbed off his horse and offered me a hand. "Leave your slaves outside."

I looked at Tiro and shrugged. I had done my part. He was not to see the inside of Caesar's tent after all. But I underestimated his persistence.