“I am N’Sumu, lord and god,” said the tall man. He spoke Latin with a pronounced Iberian accent, though the words were intelligible enough. “I am an Egyptian from south of Elephantine Island in the Nile. In my native land I am renowned as a great hunter of the strange beasts that dwell beyond the cataracts of the Nile. Your Prefect of the Watch, Laurus, thought I might be of service to you because of my long experience in capturing sauropitheci. I understand from certain talk I have heard during my visit to Rome that you have one that needs to be recaptured.”
“Yes, whatever did happen to that one?” the Emperor demanded of no one in particular. He did not care so long as he got an answer. If no one answered, then so much the worse for whoever and however many the Emperor decided should have answered him. The counsellors—one of them seventy and blind, all of them learned and powerful men—began to perspire.
The third secretary in a rank of six began to recite while his fingers danced through the tablets thonged to his belt. “The beastcatcher Lycon has been reporting lack of success at five-day intervals. The area of search has been focused in the region between Portus and the third milepost on the Via Ostia where the barge was first discovered to have been attacked. In the course of the past three reports, the beastcatcher has expressed doubts that the sauropithecus is still alive and has requested that the search be terminated in order that he may seek to obtain more of the beasts from the Numidians.”
Domitian chuckled and whispered into the ear of his loader. That slave began to lay out a sheaf of arrows.
“I can help you capture the beast, lord and god,” said the bronzed Egyptian with the incongruous accent.
Domitian wondered: Did the Tartessians have a trading base beyond the first cataract of the Nile?
“Moreover,” N’Sumu continued, “I can help you breed as many more sauropitheci as you may want for the amphitheater. Can you imagine,” N’Sumu bent forward—his torso lumped in unfamiliar ways beneath the formal toga, “a thousand of them, loosed all at once on a legion of armed convicts in the arena? Against war elephants? Battling to the death!”
Domitian took the bow his loader was proffering silently. He turned his body toward the steward whose hand, raised as high as the man could get it above his head, was spread palm outward against the beech trunk. The Emperor drew and loosed, nocked the arrow his loader offered fletching–forward, drew and loosed again . . . and again . . . and a fourth time.
“The hunter in charge of the business,” said Crispinus to the bronzed man, “is convinced that the sauropithecus drowned in the Tiber. Given the way it made its presence known earlier, on the estate and on the barge as well, I’d say that lack of further occurrences was good reason to agree with the hunter.”
The snap of the bowstring and slap of each arrowhead against the tree bole were so close together that they merged into a single sound repeated four times. The scream that almost all of the onlookers expected did not come. The steward’s terrified grimace melted into something close to religious awe. He wriggled his fingers. The web between thumb and index finger had been nicked, but beyond that the steward’s hand was untouched. The four arrows, driven far enough into the beech that none of the iron heads was visible, stood out against the flesh they did not harm.
“Bravo!” shouted the onlookers. “Magnificent!”
“Other hand,” said the Emperor, as he returned to the discussion behind him. He was sweating and flushed with exertion and pride. His face, ruddy at all times, was a brighter hue, but there were mottled patches of red upon his bald scalp as well.
“It’s hardly likely that it drowned,” said N’Sumu. “The sauropithecus is a powerful swimmer in its native rivers.”
He spoke to Crispinus, but with a nod toward the Emperor to indicate that he was simply continuing the discussion with no intended disrespect. “While a badly injured sauropithecus might have been pulled under by heavy currents—their bodies are too densely fleshed to allow the creatures to float—we know this one was quite fit enough to slaughter a boatload of men. Almost certainly it has made its lair in some secret place—such a place as only a hunter of my considerable experience with these beasts would suspect.”