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him.”
    “Fair enough,” the man replied with a shrug. A few minutes later he returned with a rather burly and hairy man who looked as if he had not bathed in weeks. A short whip hung from his left hand.
    “Hey, who in the bloody fuck are you, thinking I’m going to hand over a prisoner of war!” he spat with a vile sneer that exposed his blackened teeth.
    “Someone willing to make it worth your while,” Heracles replied. He reached into his bag and pulled out a gold piece that he tossed nonchalantly towards the foreman. The coin was worth about seventy-five denarii and the grisly man gave a frown of comprehension while he turned it over in his hand.
    “Well I’ll be buggered,” he said. “I wouldn’t give a bottle of piss for any one of those scabs, but if he means that much to you…”
    “He means nothing to me,” Heracles corrected in his calm but firm voice. “I’ll give you three gold pieces for the man; plus one more to each of you for keeping your mouths shut . You have never seen me; I have never been here. The prisoner Radek died of a fever on the twenty-second of April. Am I making myself clear?”
    “Quite,” the foreman replied. Behind him the clerk licked his lips in anticipation.
     

     
    “How are your men adjusting to their new accommodations?” Tiberius asked. Sejanus walked beside him through the shaded gardens, keeping a respectful half-step behind the Emperor.
    “Very well, Caesar,” he replied. “Our reaction times to crises have improved ten-fold. Morale is high and the men feel more unified in a sense of common purpose.”
    “That is good,” the Emperor said, feeling reassured. “And what is this I hear about you sending your Deputy to the east?”
    “A mere courtesy visit to the eastern legions,” Sejanus stated. “There have been some grumblings in the east and I felt a direct representative from us would help to quell any misgivings the eastern legates may have.” Tiberius frowned in contemplation.
    “I have not heard of any such misgivings,” he said after a few moments of thought.
    “Forgive me, Caesar; I did not wish to disturb you with what I am certain is a minor matter,” Sejanus responded quickly.
    “Yes, well I’m certain you’ll take care of it,” Tiberius replied, waving his hand dismissively. “You have yet to lead me wrong, my friend, and I trust you more than any.”
    “Surely you don’t trust me more than your son,” the Prefect said with mo ck surprise. The Emperor paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and continued his walk.
    “Drusus does his best to serve me,” he said. “However, his judgment is constantly clouded by emotion, particularly his anger towards you. Did you know he came to me just the other day expressing his concerns about the new Praetorian barracks?”
    “But surely Caesar, the reorganization of the Guard has been a resounding success!”
    “I know that,” Tiberius replied. “Drusus sees it as a means of you consolidating your power and he somehow feels threatened by it.”
    “I assure you,” Sejanus persisted, “that if the time comes while I am still in my post I will serve Drusus just as fervently as I serve you.” He was impressed by his own skills of persuasion. Tiberius believed him. All the same, Drusus was becoming more than a mere nuisance. Sejanus knew that should anything befall Tiberius, his own life would probably be forfeit; so deep was Drusus’ hatred towards him. It was now more than just a mere matter of consolidating his rise in power, his family’s very survival would depend upon the removal of Drusus Caesar.
     

     
    Heracles hated being back at sea once again, though at least now he had some company. He had purchased a handful of other slaves from the mines along with that beast Radek. These particular men had not been prisoners of war; all the same such was their gratitude towards the man who had liberated them that they would follow Heracles into the gates of Hell itself. He