I almost smiled at this sardonic jibe; Bethesda was still capable of needling me, despite the malady that plagued her. Anything that gave evidence of her old spirit was cause for hope.

"You're right," I said. "Those fellows pursuing us have the look of Levantines, but they could well be Caesar's men, or men he's won over from Pompey, if in fact Pompey is vanquished or dead. If that fleet does belong to Caesar, and we've encountered him on his way to Alexandria, then…"

I left the thought unspoken, for Bethesda knew what I was about to say, and to actually speak his name aloud would be too painful; if he had survived the travails of battle, very likely my adopted son Meto would be by Caesar's side. I had seen him last in Massilia, in Gaul, where I had upbraided him and publicly disowned him for the intrigues and deceits he had practiced on Caesar's behalf. No one in my family, least of all Bethesda, quite understood why I had turned my back on a son I had adopted, who had always been so dear to me; I myself did not quite comprehend the violence of my reaction. If these were Caesar's ships, and if Caesar was among them, and if Meto was with Caesar-what a jest of the gods that would be, to snatch me from a quiet arrival in Alexandria and set me down in the midst of Caesar's fleet, faced with a reunion I could not bear to contemplate.

These thoughts, as gloomy as they were, at least served to distract me from imagining a more dreadful alternative-that the ships pursuing us were not from Caesar after all. These men could be pirates, or renegade soldiers, or something even worse…

Whoever they were, they were practiced sailors with considerable skill at pursuit and capture. Coordinating their movements with admirable precision, they drew apart so as to pull alongside us both to starboard and port, then slowed their speed to match ours. They were close enough now so that I could see the leering faces of the armed men on deck. Were they bent on our destruction, or merely exhilarated by the chase? From the ship to our starboard, an officer called out, "Give it up, Captain! We've caught you fair and square. Raise your oars, or else we'll get rid of them for you!"