We headed toward the port by a different route than the one the centurion had taken earlier. This street was wider and the way more direct. I wondered that it hadn't been blockaded and said as much to Davus, who told me to wait and see. At the first intersection we came to, the engineer Magius called a brief halt. He and a few other men gripped some ropes hanging from the buildings on either side. In an instant, tons of rubble poured into the street behind us. An ingenious system of pulleys had been installed, connected to wooden sluices and caches full of debris stored in the upper floors of the buildings facing the street.
The same operation was repeated at the next intersection, and the next. Magius was blockading the street as we passed.
At other places, Magius gave a signal for caution and led the company in single file along one side of the street, keeping close to the wall. Trenches with spikes had been dug across the street and covered over. Only Magius knew exactly where they were and on which side to bypass them. The traps were impossible to see. In the darkness, the dirt spread above the wicker blinds blended imperceptibly with the rest of the street.
Now and again I heard faint, echoing sounds of battle from behind us, shouts and screams mixed with the chanting from the temples. The darkness of the narrow streets, the flickering torchlight, the man-made avalanches of rubble, the unseen traps beneath our feet, all seemed like elements from a mad dream. Images of the day flashed through my overwrought mind: arrows crisscrossing in the blue sky above my head- the cold, still water of the harbor, promising death- Fortex on the quay quivering with tension, gripping invisible oars and staring agape at the boatman Charon coming for him across the River Styx.
I seemed to be trapped in a waking nightmare. Then I chanced to look at Davus beside me. He was grinning from ear to ear. For him, it was all a grand adventure. I gripped his arm.
"Davus, when we arrive at Pompey's ship, you'll stay behind."
He furrowed his brow.
"Davus, I have the information that Pompey wanted. About Numerius. But I shall give it to him only if he agrees to leave you behind."
"Leave me behind?"
"Listen, Davus, and try to understand! I shall be going with Pompey, but you shall not. It's the only way I can make this work. We'll leave you behind on the pier. As soon as the ship casts off, you must take off all your armor. Do you understand? Keep your sword to protect yourself, but strip down to your tunic and throw everything else in the water. There must be nothing to identify you as one of Pompey's men. The townspeople are likely to kill you out of spite, if Caesar's men don't kill you first."
"Stay behind?" Davus still didn't comprehend.
"Don't you want to go back to Rome? Don't you want to see Diana and little Aulus again?"
"Of course."
"Then do as I say! For a while, the city will be in chaos. But you're a big man; no one will bother you unless they have a reason. Don't pick any fights. Try to pass as one of the townspeople, at least until you can hand yourself over to Caesar's men."
"Hand myself over? They'll kill me."
"No, they won't. Caesar is doing everything he can to appear merciful. You won't be harmed, as long as you throw down your sword and don't resist. Demand to see Meto. And if Meto should be- if for any reason you can't find Meto, ask for Marc Antony, the tribune. Tell him who you are. Ask for his protection."
"What about you, father-in-law?"
"I shall take care of myself."
"I don't understand. You'll end up with Pompey over in Greece. How will you get home?"
"Don't worry about me."
"But Diana, and Bethesda-"
"Tell them not to worry. Tell them… I love them."
"This isn't right. I should go with you, to protect you."
"No! The whole point is to get you away from Pompey and back to Rome. Don't spoil all my efforts now, Davus. Do as I tell you!"
Suddenly there was a tremendous crash ahead of us. Rubble poured into the street. For a moment I thought Pompey had been struck, but he emerged from the dust cursing and coughing. Someone had set off one of Magius's barricading devices in an attempt to ambush us.
Pompey's men immediately swarmed over the rubble, looking for the culprits. Shrieks of laughter were followed by shrill screams. The soldiers returned with their squirming prisoners: four boys. The soldiers restrained them by twisting their arms behind their backs and clutching fistfuls of hair. The oldest looked about the same age as Mopsus. The others looked even younger. I was amazed they had the strength to pull down the rubble. Their success was a testament to Magius's engineering.
For Pompey, this was the final straw. He walked up to the oldest boy and slapped him across the face. The boy's defiance crumbled. He looked terrified. Blood trickled from his nose. He started to weep. So did his companions.
Pompey snapped his fingers. "Bodyguards! Come! Executing partisans isn't a job fit for soldiers."
Davus responded at once. I gripped his arm, but he pulled free. I hissed his name. He looked back at me and shrugged, as if to say he had no choice.
"Tie their arms behind their backs and lay them on the rubble," ordered Pompey. Davus held up his torch while the other bodyguards ripped apart the boys' tunics and used the strips to bind them.
"Gag them," Pompey ordered. "I don't want to hear any screams for mercy. Then cut off their heads."
The boys' weeping abruptly turned to shrieks. More cloth was ripped, and the shrieks were abruptly muffled.
"We'll execute them on the spot and leave them as an example. Let the people of Brundisium see the price for betraying Pompey the Great. Let them think about that, while they await my return."
It happened so swiftly it seemed unreal. In seconds, the boys were stripped to their loincloths, bound and gagged and ready to be beheaded. Tiro drew back into the shadows, keeping his eyes down. Davus hung back. Pompey noticed.
"Davus! You'll cut off the head of the ringleader."
Davus swallowed hard. He glanced in my direction, but quickly lowered his eyes. He handed his torch to a soldier and slowly drew his sword. He shifted nervously from foot to foot.
"Great One, no!"
Pompey turned to see who shouted. "Finder! I should have known."
"Great One, let the boys go."
"Let them go? They very nearly killed me!"
"It was a prank. They're boys, not soldiers. I doubt they even know you were at the head of the retinue."
"All the worse. How should that have looked in Rome? Pompey the Great killed by accident, by a gang of street rats pulling a prank! They'll pay with their heads."
"But how would that look in Rome? Boys, mere children, their heads cut off and left for their parents to find. If these were barbarians in the hinterlands, yes- but this is Italy. We could as easily be in Corfinium. Or Rome."
Pompey bit his lower lip. He stared at me for what seemed a long time.
"Put away your swords," he finally said. "Leave the boys as they are, bound and gagged. Let the people see that they were captured, and spared. If Caesar can show mercy, so can I. By Hades, let's get out of this godforsaken place!"
Davus's shoulders slumped forward in relief. Pompey gave me a last furious glance, then held out his arms to his bodyguards, who helped him over the pile of rubble. Davus fell back to resume his post as rear guard. He helped me pick my way step by step over the debris. The last of the barricades and traps was behind us. We pressed on toward the port, saying not another word to each other.
• • •
As soon as we passed through the city gates and onto the boardwalk, one of the soldiers gathered up all the torches, ran to the quayside, and threw them into the water. The port was clearly visible to Caesar's forces ringing the harbor. Darkness was as vital as silence to the success of Pompey's operation.