The Princess and the Pirates(15)

“I hear he’s executed two of her sisters,” Hermes said. “Maybe he values the children he has left all the more.”

For the next hour, while we ate, Cleopatra’s yacht maneuvered around the harbor, under sail and under oars, rehearsing all the actions of a naval battle and no doubt terrifying all the merchant skippers, some of whom almost suffered ramming. But the little ship was expertly rowed, its oars polished to such whiteness that they resembled ivory, flashing like wings as it darted about, nimble as a dragonfly.

“She’s going to take some restraining when we sight real pirates,” Hermes observed.

“All too true,” I agreed. “In war there’s nothing as dangerous as an enthusiastic amateur.”

After lunch I called on the harbor master, a busy official named Orchus.

“How may I be of sendee, Senator?” His clothing was rich, his beard neatly curled and dressed with scented oil, an Oriental affectation coming into esteem in the eastern parts of the Greek world.

“From now on,” I told him, “I want you to question the master of every incoming ship about acts of piracy in these waters: locations, dates, description of what goods or persons were stolen, and so forth. Have your secretary write up a daily report and deliver it to me at the house of Silvanus.”

“It will be my pleasure to carry out your instructions,” he said, “but I cannot vouch for the accuracy of the reports.”

“You think the skippers would lie about this?”

“And why not? If a merchant captain is offered a cargo of fine wine at one third its market value, he will accept it and is not likely to speculate about its origin. On the contrary, he will sacrifice to Hermes in gratitude for this stroke of luck and will pray to encounter more of the same.” Hermes is the god of thieves.

“But don’t these merchants find it to be in their interest that Rome should scour pirates from the sea? Do the pirates not regard all shipping as prey?”

“Not always. They make certain not to alienate everyone. After all, they must sell their plunder somewhere.”

“What about the captives? Surely they can report the sacking of their own towns.”

“Here on Cyprus we do not deal in slaves. Almost all such are taken to the great market on Delos—if, that is, they cannot raise a ransom.”

“This is scandalous,” I said.

“Decidedly. It is also a tradition many centuries old, one with which Rome does not interfere, I might add. Rome needs slaves, too. And I am told the pirates are careful not to victimize Roman citizens.”

“A sound policy. That was the sort of behavior that caused their downfall years ago. Well, get what you can out of them and send your reports on to me. I expect to be at sea a lot, but I’ll send someone to pick up the reports at regular intervals.”

“It shall be done.”

“Let’s go inspect our ships,” I told Hermes. “Haven’t we had enough of them for a while?” “I just want to see if Ion has sold them for firewood.” We found the ships hauled up onto a convenient stretch of sandy beach. The masts, sails, and oars were neatly laid out; the hulls propped up with timber balks; the sailors busily at work scraping the bottoms. Whatever his shortcomings, Ion was a thoroughgoing professional when it came to his vessels.

I found him squatting beneath one of the hulls, inspecting a plank that appeared to be nearing the end of its serviceable life.

“Why aren’t you using the naval harbor facilities?” I queried. “That’s for bigger ships, and the sheds are for bad weather. If you want a good look at your ship, there’s nothing like a good, sandy beach that won’t scrape the bottom and bright sunlight to see by. I’d not have spotted the rot in this plank in the shade.”

“Well, I won’t advise you concerning your own work.”

“Good. You’ll need to buy pitch. All three hulls need treating.” “I see you didn’t bother to go to the naval stores for it.” “Why bother? I haven’t seen any naval stores in the last two years east of Piraeus. We need some cordage, and you might as well pick up some paint. It always makes the men feel better to start a cruise with the ships looking good.”

“At least we have paint. Go to the naval yard and take all you need.”

“Well, there’s a miracle. Weapons?”

“Enough to take on another hundred marines and provide at least light weapons for extra rowers. We’ll be looking over the available manpower tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll be there. Don’t expect much.”

“I’ve lived too long to expect much,” I assured him, “but I want the best of what there is to be had in this place.”