That night, Marcus was standing at the prow on his own, looking out at the moonlit waves and feeling miserable. His efforts of the day had earned him nothing, and having to have Renius clear up his failure felt like a metal weight in his chest.

He heard low voices behind him and swung to see black figures coming around the raised cabins. He recognized Crixus and Parus, and the man from the high rigging, whose name he did not know. He steadied himself for the blows, knowing he couldn't take them all, but Crixus held out a leather cup of some dark liquid. He was smiling slightly, not sure Marcus wouldn't dash it out of his hand.

"Here. I promised you a drink if you picked up a shell, and I keep my promises."

Marcus took the cup and the three men relaxed visibly, coming over to lean against the side and look out over the black water as it passed below them. All three had similar cups, and Crixus filled them from a soft leather bag that gurgled when he shifted its weight under his arm.

Marcus could smell the bitter liquid as he raised it to his mouth. He had never tasted anything stronger than wine before and took a deep gulp before he realized that whatever it was stung the cuts on his lips and gums. In reflex, just to clear his mouth, he swallowed and immediately choked as fire burst in his stomach. He fought for breath and Parus reached out an arm and thumped his back, his face expressionless.

"Does you good, that stuff," Crixus said, chuckling.

"Does you good, First Mate," Marcus replied through his spluttering.

Crixus smiled. "I like you, lad. I really do," he said, refilling his own cup. "Mind you, that friend of yours, Renius, now he is a truly evil bastard."

They all nodded and peacefully went back to watching the sea and the sky.

Marcus viewed the busy port with mixed feelings as it grew before him. The Lucidae maneuvered nimbly through the ancient stones that marked the edge of the wild sea and the calm lake of the harbor itself. A host of ships accompanied them, and they had had to stand off from the harbor for most of the morning until a harassed pilot took a boat out to guide them in.

At first, Marcus had thought nothing of the month at sea, considering it with as much interest as he might consider a walk from one town to another. Only the destination had been important in his mind. Now, though, he knew the name of each one of the small crew and had felt their acceptance after that night spent drinking on the prow. Even the return of Firstmate to light duties hadn't spoiled things with the men. Firstmate, it seemed, bore no grudges and even seemed proud of him, as if his acceptance by the crew were in some way his doing.

Peppis had never stopped sleeping in corners on the decks at night, but he had filled out a little with the food Marcus saved for him, and the beatings had stopped by some unseen signal amongst the men. The little boy had become a much more cheerful character and might one day be a sailor, as he hoped.

To some extent, Marcus envied the boy; it was freedom of a kind. These men would see all the ports of the known world while he marched over foreign fields under the baking sun, carrying Rome always with him.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to sift apart all the strange scents on the sea breeze. Jasmine and olive oil were strong, but there was also the smell of a mass of people again-sweat and excrement. He sighed and jumped as a hand clapped onto his shoulder.

"It will feel good to get land under our heels again," Renius said, staring with him into the harbor town. "We'll hire horses to take us east to the legion and find your century to get you sworn in."

Marcus nodded in silence and Renius caught his mood. "Only memories stay the same, lad. Everything else changes. When you see Rome again, you'll hardly know it and all the people you loved will be different. There's no stopping it; it's the most natural thing in the world."

Seeing Marcus wasn't cheered, he went on.

"This civilization was ancient when Rome was young. It's an alien place to a Roman, and you'll have to watch their ideas of soft living don't spoil you. There are savage tribes that raid across the border in Illyria, though, so you'll see your share of action. That got your interest, did it?" He laughed, a short bark. "I suppose you thought it would be all drill and standing in the sun? Marius is a good judge, lad. He's sent you to one of the hardest posts in the empire. Even the Greeks don't bend the knee without a good deal of thought, and Macedonia is where Alexander was born. This is just the place to put a bit of strength into your steel."

Together they watched as the Lucidae eased against the dockside and ropes were thrown and tied down. In a short while, the little trader was tethered securely and Marcus almost felt sorry for her sudden loss of freedom. Epides came out on deck dressed in a chiton, a traditional Greek tunic worn at knee length. He glittered with jewelry and his hair shone with oil in the sun. He saw the two passengers standing at the side waiting to disembark and walked over to them.

"I have grave news, gentlemen. A Greek army has risen in the north, and we could not put in at Dyrrhachium as planned. This is Oricum, about a hundred miles to the south."

Renius tensed. "What? You were paid to put us down in the north, so that we could join the lad's legion. I-"

"It was not a possibility, as I said," the captain replied, smiling. "The flag codes were quite clear as we neared Dyrrhachium. That is why we have been following the coast south. I could not risk the Lucidae with a rebel army drunk on broken Roman garrisons. The safety of the ship was at stake."

Renius grabbed Epides by his chiton, lifting him up to his toes.

"Damn you, man. There's a bloody great mountain between here and Macedonia, as you are well aware. That is another month of hard travel for us and great expense, which is your responsibility!"

Epides struggled, his face purpling in rage.

"Take your hands off me! How dare you accost me on my own ship? I'll call the harbor guards and have you hanged, you arrogant-"

Renius shifted his grip to a ruby on a heavy gold chain around Epides's neck. With a savage jerk, he broke the links and tucked it away into his belt pouch. Epides began stuttering with incoherent anger and Renius shoved him away, turning to Marcus as the man fell sprawling onto the deck.

"Right. Let's get off. At least we can afford to buy supplies for the trip when I sell the chain."

When he saw Marcus's gaze flick behind him, Renius spun and drew his sword in one motion. Epides was lunging with a jeweled dagger, his face contorted.

Renius swayed inside the blow clumsily and ripped his gladius up into the man's smooth-shaven chest. He withdrew the blade and ran it over the chiton in quick wipes as Epides fell to the deck, writhing.

"Drunk on broken garrisons, was it?" he muttered, struggling to sheathe the sword. "Damn this scabbard-won't stay still…"

Marcus stood stunned at the quick death, and the nearby members of the crew gaped at the suddenly violent scene. Renius nodded to them as the gladius slid home.

"Get the ramps down. We have a long journey ahead of us."

A section in the side was opened and plank gangways were put down to allow the cargo to be unloaded. Marcus shook his head in silent disbelief. He checked his belongings for the last time and patted his sides, feeling again the loss of his dagger, which he'd given to Firstmate the previous evening. He had known it was the right thing to do somehow, and the smiles of the crew as the man had shown it around had told him he had made the right choice. There were no smiles now and he wished he'd kept it.