Mummius looked at me shrewdly. 'You are a sharp one,' he finally said. 'Maybe you'll be worth your fee, after all.' I heard no sarcasm in his voice. Instead there was a kind of sadness, as if he truly hoped I would succeed at my task, but expected me to fail.

An instant later Mummius was swaggering out the door and bellowing over his shoulder. 'I suppose you'll be hungry, after snoring all day. There's food in the mess cabin amidships, probably better than what you're used to at home. Too rich for me – I prefer a skin of watery wine and a hard crust of bread – but the owner always stocks the best, or what the merchants tell him is best, which means whatever is most expensive. After you eat you can take a long nap.' He laughed. 'Might as well, you'll only get in the way if you're awake. Passengers are pretty useless on a ship. Not much for them to do. Might as well pretend you're a bag of grain and find a spot to gather mould. Follow me.'

By changing the subject, Marcus Mummius had avoided admitting that Baiae was our destination. There was no point in pressing the matter; I already knew where we were going, and now a greater matter weighed on my thoughts, for I was beginning to suspect that I knew the identity of my mysterious new employer. Who could have afforded so ostentatious a means of transport for a mere hireling, and a barely reputable one like Gordianus the Finder, at that? Pompey, perhaps, could muster such resources on a private whim, but Pompey was in Spain. Who then but the man reputed to be the richest Roman alive, indeed the richest Roman who had ever lived – but what could Marcus Licinius Crassus want of me, when he owned whole cities of slaves and could afford the services of any free man he desired?

I might have badgered Mummius with more questions, but decided I had taxed his patience enough. I followed him into the afternoon sunlight and caught a whiff of roasted lamb on the bracing sea breeze. My stomach roared like a Hon, and I abandoned curiosity to satisfy a more pressing appetite.