The agent rose from the bed and began to buckle on his
equipment belt. “That’s the first thing we do when we leave this room,” he said as he fingered the empty slot of his sword scabbard. “After I replace some hardware I figure we’ll need.”
CHAPTER NINE
“Just a moment, gentlemen,” said the usher. “I’ll see if the Tribune is free.”
Perennius had been quite honest in saying he did not care for the sea. Ostia was no beach resort like Baiae, either. It was a working port, and it stank like one. The breeze drifting through the colonnades of the old Customs Station was ripe with spoiled goods dumped into the harbor along with the burden of the town’s sewer system. Still, the agent was feeling unexpectedly cheerful. “You know,” he said in a low voice to his companion. “I wasn’t counting on being able to see anybody officially until Marcus got some orders cut. All I figured we’d be able to do was look around and probably buy some information for a cup or wine or two.”
The reception room in which they waited was dingy. It seemed to be used to store old Customs records, judging from the seals on the dusty document cases stacked along one wall. The naval contingent at Ostia was under the Naval Prefect at Misenum, one hundred miles south on the Bay of Naples. The vessels here were attached to the Customs Service, and their command staff was housed in a corner of the Customs Station. Ill-housed, not surprisingly, and furnished with cast-offs from their senior partner.
Calvus looked around the room. Monochrome stucco was flaking from the walls which were not covered by boxes, and some of the marble bits of the mosaic flooring had worked loose from their concrete bed. “I mention this because it may be necessary for you to know it, Aulus Perennius,” the tall man said. “I can sometimes influence persons to fall in with a course of action. Especially when the emotional temperature is low, or when the other person is very excited and considering the desired course of action himself. The course I desire.”
It did not occur to Perennius to doubt what the other man was saying. The agent’s skin flashed cold and his right hand curved over the grip of the sword he had been issued only hours before. “Now, tell me what that had to do with me being here,” the agent said softly.
The hands that had lifted Perennius without effort remained crossed in Calvus’ lap. His eyes were alert but fearless as they met the agent’s. “That ability had nothing to do with you,” the tall man said simply. “I don’t want – could not use – anyone who needed prodding to act. I told you, Aulus Perennius: I was not raised to handle weapons.” Calvus grin was brief and unreal. “My weapons have to handle themselves.”
Shoes slapping down the hall and a burst of voices discussing insect netting drew the attention of the waiting men to the doorway. A plump man in his mid-twenties stepped into the reception room, calling one last objection over his shoulder to someone unseen. The newcomer had a curly beard, well-trimmed, and wore a tunic with the two thin stripes of equestrian rank. He nodded to Calvus and Perennius before seating himself on the wood-framed couch facing them. A layer of dust lifted from the couch pad, provoking first a curse, then a sneeze. When he had recovered himself, he said, “All right, gentlemen, Terentius Niger at your service. Nine chances in ten, what you need isn’t in my department. This is the Naval contingent, not Customs. If you’re the lucky tenth, I probably can’t do a thing for you either – you know that those bastards won’t issue gauze curtains for my office? You try and work there some night when you can’t read a document for the gnats in your eyes!”
“I’m Aulus Perennius from Imperial Affairs,” the agent said, watching the young tribune stiffen. The agent saw no reason to hide his identity or that of his office. “I realize you won’t have received the orders yet, but it
would help us a great deal if you could tell us what major naval units are available here – and of course at Portus.” The administrative offices had remained at Ostia when Portus, the artificial harbor for heavier vessels, was constructed adjacent to Ostia some two centuries before. Perennius had learned not to be over-specific when trying to learn something from a bureaucrat.