The Judgment of Caesar Read Online Free

defeat—until now.
    “Considering what happened at Pharsalus, I imagine the Great One must be in a rather foul mood,” I said.
    “So you do know him, Gordianus?”
    I nodded. “Pompey and I are acquainted.”
    “And will he be pleased or displeased when that officer tells him you’re on my ship?”
    I laughed without mirth. “Displeased to learn that I’m still breathing. Pleased that he has a chance to do something about that.”
    The captain wrinkled his brow. “He hates you that much?”
    “Yes.”
    “Because you’re a partisan of Caesar?”
    I shook my head. “I am not and never was in Caesar’s camp, despite the fact that my son—my disowned son . . .” I left the sentence unfinished.
    “You have a son who fights with Caesar?”
    “They’re closer than that. Meto sleeps in the same tent, eats from the same bowl. He helps write the propaganda Caesar passes off as memoirs.”
    The captain looked at me with fresh eyes. “Who’d have thought . . .?”
    “That such a common-looking fellow as myself would have such a close connection to the world’s new lord and master?”
    “Something like that. What did you do to offend Pompey, then?”
    I leaned against the rail and stared into the water. “That, Captain, is my own business.”
    “My business, if it means Pompey decides to confiscate my ship and throw me overboard, to punish me for taking you as a passenger. I’ll ask you again: What did you do to offend the Great One?”
    “Even as Caesar was marching on Rome and Pompey was scrambling to escape, a favorite young cousin of Pompey’s was murdered. Just before he left Rome, Pompey charged me with finding the killer.”
    “And you failed to do so?”
    “Not exactly. But the Great One was not pleased with the outcome.” I thought of Pompey as I had last seen him—his hands around my throat, his eyes bulging, determined to see me dead. He had been in the process of fleeing Italy by ship, disembarking from the port of Brundisium even as Caesar stormed the city. I’d barely managed to escape, wrenching free from Pompey’s grip, diving into deep water, surfacing amid flaming flotsam, dragging myself to the shore while Pompey sailed off to fight another day.
    I shook my head to clear it. “You’ve done nothing to insult the Great One’s dignity, Captain. He has no reason to punish you. If Pompey confiscates your ship, it’ll be because he needs more room for that sad-looking bunch of soldiers crowded on these transports. But he’ll need someone to sail this ship, so why throw you overboard? Ah, but perhaps we’ll know the Great One’s intentions soon enough. I see a skiff approaching, and I believe it’s carrying our friend, that centurion who detained us.”
    The skiff pulled alongside. The centurion called up to us. “Ahoy, Captain.”
    “Ahoy, yourself. Your men finished searching my cargo an hour ago. What now? Am I free to go?”
    “Not yet. That passenger you’re carrying . . .”
    I leaned over the rail to show my face. “Are you referring to me, Centurion?”
    “I am. Are you the same Gordianus who’s called the Finder, who lives in Rome?”
    “I suppose there’s no point in denying it.”
    “You must be a rather important fellow, then. The Great One himself would like a word with you. If you’ll join us here in the skiff, we’ll escort you to his galley.”
    Bethesda, who had been standing to one side with Rupa and the boys, drew near and gripped my hand.
    “Husband—”
    “I’ll be alright, I’m sure,” I said.
    She squeezed my fingers and averted her eyes. “We’ve come so far, Husband.”
    “All the way back to where we first began, you and I. Well, almost all the way. We didn’t quite make it to Alexandria, but we did see the lighthouse, didn’t we?”
    She shook her head. “I should never have insisted on this journey.”
    “Nonsense! These days, no place is safer than any other. We came to Egypt so that you could bathe in the Nile and cleanse yourself