Chapter 23
by Douglas, Lloyd C.Late in the forenoon on Sunday, Voldi cantered up the wharf to the ship’s side. Somewhere along the line he had abandoned his rags and tatters, and was well clad in riding clothes and boots. He was in good spirits.
‘It was just as I expected,’ he explained. ‘At dusk, last night, our caravan was set upon by bandits. There was some hard fighting, but we drove them off. We lost a few men, among them the Tetrarch himself. Somebody killed him with his own dagger.’
‘Perhaps you’d better go aboard,’ advised Mencius, soberly.
‘It’s a good idea,’ agreed Fulvius.
In a few minutes The Vestris was inching away from the dock and her sails were creeping up the tall masts. Darik and Brutus, in adjoining stalls, were rubbing noses. The other ships of the fleet were winching up their anchors and hauling up canvas.
Voldi rejoined his Roman friends on deck. A slave brought them their luncheon. Mencius grinned mischievously and remarked, ‘You stole the Tetrarch’s horse.’
‘Not at all!’ protested Voldi. ‘I stuffed the coin-pouch, containing the three hundred shekels, into the Tetrarch’s pocket.’
‘And so,’ said Fulvius solemnly, ‘you and the Tetrarch are square.’
‘Right!’ declared Voldi. ‘And the Tetrarch and Arabia are square!’
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