Though this road was broad and superbly paved, there were miles to go. Once they stopped to change teams. It was after dark when they entered the Ostian streets. Torches flared; the horses stumbled on cobblestones. Flavius looked wind-flushed at Eodan and laughed. "Thank you for a good ride, at least! Now, shall we to an inn?" "No." It was hard to think clearly, with a skull full of sand. But every stop, every man they spoke to, was another hazard. "Let us go aboard at once." Flavius clicked his tongue, but turned the chariot down toward the waterfront. There was just enough light, from the city and the pharos in the outer harbor, for Eodan to see a world of ships. Their spars hemmed in the sky. Many of them were lit by torch or firepot, so that slaves could continue loading. Such was the galley they sought. It was, indeed, neither large nor beautiful. It was battered, in need of paint, reeking of tar and slavery. The small bronze figurehead was so corroded you could not tell what it had been intended to depict. Ten ports on a side showed where the oars would emerge; through them came a sound of chains and animal sleep. Phryne gagged at the smell. A line of near-naked dock workers moved up and down a gangplank, bearing cases to be stowed in the hold, while an overseer and an armed guard watched. There was also a stout, dark, bearded man with a rolling gait who came up, gave a bear's bow and said he was Demetrios, captain of this vessel. He had not been expecting his distinguished passengers yet. "Take us to our cabin," said Flavius. "We would sleep a few hours before you leave." "The noise, master," said the captain. "You would not sleep at all, I fear." Eodan looked wildly about. He had not thought of this ... if the Demetrios man grew suspicious--what to do, what to do? Flavius winked and jerked his thumb at Hwicca and Phryne. "I should not have said 'sleep,' captain." "Oh," said Demetrios enviously. "Of course." They went up on deck. There was a high poop, where the great steering oar was lashed; the stem-post curled up over it like a flaunting tail. The forecastle stood somewhat lower, bearing a rough tent erected for the officers. The free deckhands would bed in the open, as always. Amidships rose the single mast, with a flimsy cabin just aft where Flavius' attendants laid down his gear. A lamp showed it windowless, though crannies let in ample cold air, and bare save for a little wooden sea-god nailed to his shelf. Demetrios bowed in the doorway. "Good night, then, noble master," he said. "I hope we'll get a pleasant voyage." Flavius smiled graciously. "I am sure we will." IX "Well, now!" said the Roman when they sat behind a closed door. He stretched himself across one of the mattresses, boylike on his belly, and reached for a leather bottle of good wine. His grin leaped at the others. "Thus far, my friends, well done. Shall we pledge our mutual success?"