"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Am I dangerous to know, you mean? Am I dangerous cargo?"

He nodded. "This is Pompey we've run into. I've never had dealings with the man myself, but everyone knows his reputation. He's used to getting what he wants, and stopping at nothing to get it."

I nodded, remembering a famous comment from early in the Great One's career, when he ran roughshod over the Sicilians. They complained of his illegal tactics in bringing order to their island. Pompey's response: "Stop quoting laws to us; we carry swords!" Pompey had always done whatever was necessary to prevail, and throughout his long career he had never tasted 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."