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picked up the conveyance and began their smooth pace, I learned what was on the minds of the two most powerful men on Cyprus.
    “Commodore,” Silvanus began, “you are the one with the commission from the Senate, and it is not my place to advise you, but I hope you will not be offended if I offer you some anyway.”
    “I am always happy to hear the opinions of men of distinction and experience.”
    “Then let me say that I believe it to be a grave mistake to allow Princess Cleopatra to join your flotilla. She is a charming girl and I have enjoyed having her as my guest, but she is no friend of Rome. She hides it well, but she bitterly resents our annexation of Cyprus and the death of her uncle.”
    “My flotilla is very small,” I said, “and now I find that naval stores of all descriptions are in short supply or entirely absent, except for paint. Her ship is a fine one, better than any of mine, and its men, sailors and marines, are of the best quality. I need that ship.”
    “Then take it,” Gabinius said, “but leave her ashore.”
    “It would be an intolerable insult to Ptolemy to commandeer his vessel and treat his daughter in such a fashion.”
    “Ptolemy is a buffoon and should be grateful for whatever bones get tossed his way from the Roman table,” Gabinius said.
    “Nonetheless, I want that ship, and I am inclined to humor Cleopatra.” I was not sure why I was being so stubborn since the doubts they expressed echoed my own, but I had just been justifying myself to my own slave and exasperation was setting in. Also, I was not certain why they thought it to be a matter of concern to them, and such uncertainties quickly become suspicions in my mind.
    “Let it be on your head,” Silvanus said. “But, mark me, she will desert you in action or bring about some other mischief.”
    I found the lady herself waiting in my quarters when we got back to the mansion of Silvanus. She was dressed in a nondescript gown and behind her, as always, stood Apollodorus. With her was the merry-faced young poet, Alpheus.
    “They’ve just arrived,” Hermes said. He had reached the house ahead of us. “The princess says you have a previous engagement.”
    “Engagement?”
    “Don’t you remember?” Cleopatra said. “We are going out to the Andromeda to hire ex-pirates!” She smiled like a delighted child.
    “I let it slip my mind. Anyway, I probably have more than we need. You should see the pack of villains I hired today.”
    “I’ll bet you hired none who admitted to his old trade,” Alpheus said. “And now they’ve taken your oath, they’ll never own up to it.”
    “Come on,” Cleopatra insisted, “join us. It will be far more fun than another drunken banquet.”
    “I like drunken banquets,” I told her. “But since I agreed already, I’ll go along.” Actually, I didn’t remember setting a specific date for this venture, but lapses of memory were nothing new to me.
    “Good!” she cried, all but clapping her hands with glee. She stood and Apollodorus wrapped her in a voluminous cloak and drew its cowl over her head. Doubtless this suited her sense of drama, but it was not necessary. In plain dress and without her extravagant jewelry, she looked like any other lively Greek girl; attractive but not strikingly so, and with no visible clues as to her royal ancestry. I have noticed on many occasions that royalty often fancy that some look sets them apart from other mortals, as if their flesh shed golden rays, but I have never found this to be so.
    I sent word to my host that urgent business called for my presence elsewhere and went out into the deepening dark with a pair of slaves, a poet, and the future queen of Egypt in search of the lowest sailor’s dive in town.
    The Andromeda was located near the docks, in a narrow street of low, single-story buildings, most of them devoted, in one way or another, to the maritime trade: warehouses, chandler’s shops, the houses of ship-wrights and sailmakers,