'Stop crowding me!' said the one dove.

'Sorry. I just thought we could practise our formation flying.'

'Later. We're here.'

The two doves looked down at the slowly-waking town of Pietas Iulia. The usual early risers were already up: fires were being stirred into action by yawning cooks. Water was being fetched – a good job to do early or late, as the day promised to be another hot one. A few workers were setting up the machinery at the construction site where a temple was going up (Augustus, probably), but nobody seemed in any hurry. At the army camp in the distance sharp bird ears could detect the sound of the morning trumpet.

'Coo, coo,' said Radu. 'Sorry. I mean, things appear to be pretty quiet around here.'

'Appearances can be deceptive,' commented Demetrius. 'Alex might know. But first, breakfast.' He swooped down on a ripe berry bush.

'Avoid the mushy ones,' called Radu. 'You know you have no head for fermentation.'

'Speak for yourself, birdbrain!' called Demetrius. They set about eating. Demetrius would have preferred to have strolled into the nearest taverna and ordered a decent human breakfast, but they'd sent their luggage by boat. Showing up in town improperly dressed – i.e., not at all – was out of the question, even on the broad-minded Mediterranean. It was the price one paid for air travel, but a two-and-a-half-hour flight was preferable to spending twelve hours in a boat that smelled like fish. Not that Demetrius minded fish: he merely preferred to be a dolphin when he smelled them. Anyway, now that they were here, they could eavesdrop around, scope out the territory, and locate their cousin. Clothes could wait.

They managed not to get drunk on the berries, but Demetrius was still hungry after the 100-mile flight. The birds lit on a branch behind some bushes, and a couple of orange cats emerged. The furry ones strolled up and down the harbour with a sailor-like rolling gait, accepting ear rubs and bits of food. After all, almost everybody likes cats. All except for one grumpy shopkeeper, who shooed them away with curses. They snuck back later and left him the present of a dead mouse on the counter.

To Demetrius's tidy mind, cats made good spies. It was a shame the emperor's people didn't know that. As they lingered near the wharves cadging fish heads, they overheard a lot.

'Hey, Attice! Did you hear? The army wants more sardines!'

'Where are they putting them all?'

'The troop numbers have doubled in size in the last week. They're calling them in from the frontiers.'

'Don't tell me they think the barbarians are planning an attack? Should we board up the storehouse and set to sea?'

'Nah. I think Scribonianus is planning on heading for Rome. It's an open secret the patricians want to take down Claudius.'

'Shh! Not so loud! I hate all this intrigue. Besides, political coups are bad for business.'

'Yeah, although it's good when the army needs fish. Here, kitty! Here's some nice fish guts for you.'

Nom, nom, replied the kitties.

At the more demure tavernas the cats got milk (not pasteurized, because 42 CE) and the news that the leaders were gathering at the camp outside of town.

In the back gardens of villas, they found out which centurions were the cutest, and narrowly escaped having ribbons tied around their necks by the centurions' admirers.

In the men's bath, they learned of an increase in orders for weapons and armour and the repair of wagons. Political coups might be bad for some people's business, but others were going to profit from the arms sales.

By late afternoon, the two knew pretty much all they needed to know – and they hadn't been near the army camp yet. They stopped for cat naps in an olive grove just outside of town.

Radu sang himself to sleep with an old hymn – for a certain nonlinear definition of 'old' – called ''Neath the Old Olive Trees.' It came out more like a cat food commercial from the late 20th century, but he didn't care.

Demetrius actually enjoyed cat naps. His dreams were much less philosophical and tended to involve climbing trees and chasing mice. He was deep into REM, his ears twitching, when suddenly Radu woke him with a sharp hiss.

'Meow, er, what?' Demetrius opened his green eyes.

There was an intimidatingly large wolf in the grove. It glowered at them and gave a low growl.

Radu made like a Halloween cat on a 1950s schoolroom bulletin board. He continued to make what he obviously (and erroneously) believed to be ferocious noises.

The wolf looked distinctly unimpressed. For a second, Demetrius considered the notion of fight-or-flight. If he ran, though, Radu might not – and they stood a better chance together. . .

What am I thinking? We could just turn into bears, or lions, and chase the wolf away. Come to think of it, that wolf looks familiar. . .

Demetrius shifted into human form.

'Hello, Alex,' he said. 'How are things?'

For answer, the wolf shimmered for a moment, and then reshaped himself into a giant with a leonine mane of white-blond hair. Reaching out a muscular arm with reflexes every bit as quick as a cat's, he scooped up Radu before that surprised individual could change form. The giant fixed mischievous blue eyes on Demetrius: his laugh echoed in the grove.

'Well, look what the cat dragged in,' he said.

'So you see, we're here to check up on the army and rescue Manius from folly, so he doesn't get his aged father in trouble,' concluded Demetrius. By this time, all three were sitting in Alex's villa, high on a hill outside of Pietas Iulia. They had an excellent view out the windows: on one side, the bustling little town, on the other, down the hill, the equally bustling army camp. From one side came the noise of civilisation – from the other, the universally-recognisable sounds of the preparation of madness. Sin-dex, sin-dex, left, right, left, right, and such.

In deference to the servants, all three were now humanoid and clothed. They were snacking on wine and mezes because Demetrius declared he'd already had too much fish and fruit today.

Alex frowned thoughtfully. 'Historically, this coup attempt is supposed to fail. But who knows whether it will, now?' He fixed Demetrius with a severe look. 'You're supposed to be the responsible one, you know.'

Demetrius shrugged. 'One has responsibilities to neighbours, too.'

'Which is why I live half a mile out of town on top of a hill.'

Radu grinned. 'You do that so you can go be a wolf without scaring the night watch half to death. I know you.'

'Not everyone prefers to imitate the contents of a petting zoo,' replied their uncle drily. He sighed. 'I suppose we'll have to see this one through. It would be unthinkable to change the course of the Roman Empire. Claudius has something important to do next year.'

'Hurrah!' said Radu. Alex looked at him, annoyed.

'But absolutely no being conspicuous. It is vital that we not create another religion by accident. That's another thing we really don't want to interfere with at this point.'

Demetrius nodded gloomily. 'Much as I'd like to set a few people straight, we mustn't. Or we might never get out of here.'

'All right,' said Alex. 'I'm going down to the docks with a couple of my men. We'll get your baggage from the ship. I don't want you in town in human form.'

'Tip them handsomely, please,' said Demetrius. 'And remind my friend Stavros to tell everyone they took us and our baggage to Epidaurum. We don't want to be associated with any of this drama. We're supposed to be on holiday.'

Alex nodded and summoned two of his men, big Celts from somewhere up Pannonia way, to hear them talk. They had red hair and freckles and looked more like cousins of Radu's than Alex did. They tended to be laconic except among themselves, and merely nodded politely to the two newcomers. With instructions to 'go swim in the pool and behave yourselves,' Alex left with his men. Demetrius thought it was typical of Alex to have a staff made of tough guys: even the cook looked to have been a fugitive from a pirate ship. He's probably got a parrot around here somewhere, he thought. I'll bet it swears, too.

'I'll be glad to get my own clothes back,' commented Radu. 'Alex has terrible taste. Besides, his tunics are too big on me.' He twirled around: the tunic reached well below his knees.

Demetrius laughed. 'It's still too hot. Let's go swim in the pool.'

But when they got to the pool, they found it clean, but unsatisfactory.

'It's too small to swim laps in,' said Demetrius ruefully.

Radu winked at him. 'Unless. . . '

When Alex got back with their luggage, they were nowhere to be seen. However, the villa's pool was adorned with two new, very large goldfish.

'I ought to fry you for dinner,' growled their uncle.

DG

08.07.24 Front Page

Back Issue Page