Gunpowder Empire

He blinked and then frowned. By the way one eyebrow went up even as his mouth turned down, he recognized sarcasm when he heard it. That was almost as rare in Polisso as it was in Los Angeles. He said, “You are requested to come to the city prefect's palace at once.”

NeoLatin had separate words and separate verb forms for the singular and plural of you. He'd used the plural, including her and Jeremy. “Who requests that?” she asked.

“Why, the most illustrious city prefect himself, of course,” the man replied. He would be one of Sesto Capurnio's chief secretaries, or maybe his steward. He wore a tunic of very fine wool with very little embroidery on it. That meant he had a good deal of money without much status. Did it mean he was a slave? It might well. Slaves here could have money of their own. They could even, though rarely, own other slaves. Amanda sometimes wondered how well anyone from the home timeline understood all the complications to society in Agrippan Rome. She knew she didn't.

She did know the request wasn't really a request. It was an order. But the fact that the city prefect hadn't phrased it as an order meant she and Jeremy had gained status. It didn't mean she could say no. She said yes the nicest way she knew how: “My brother and I are honored to accept the most illustrious city prefect's kind invitation.”

“We certainly are,” Jeremy agreed.

The secretary or steward or whatever he was looked relieved to hear him speak up. You sexist donkey, Amanda thought. But this whole world was full of sexist donkeys. She couldn't change it all by herself, no matter how much she wished she could. The man said, “Come with me, then, both of you.”

Amanda moved the porridge higher above the fire and made it smaller so the food wouldn't burn. And then go they did, back through the battered streets of Polisso. The gang of slaves they'd seen on their trip to the temple a few days before-or maybe a different gang-worked at its usual unhurried pace to clear away another ruined wall. When they got to the square, Amanda saw that a ca

But she really had felt better coming out of the temple after the thanks-offering. That wasn't a miracle. She knew it wasn't. It still counted for something, though.

Sesto Capurnio's flunky led the two crosstime traders into the city prefect's office. The prefect himself sat behind his desk. The painted busts of several recent Emperors stared out at Amanda and Jeremy from in back of him. Amanda found that slightly eerie, or more than slightly.

When Sesto Capurnio spoke, she half expected the lips on all the busts to start moving in time with his mouth. They didn't, of course. Only he said, “Good day.”

“Good day, most illustrious prefect,” Amanda and Jeremy replied in chorus. He bowed. She curtsied. Still together, they went on, “How may we serve you?”

Sesto Capurnio shook his head. “I did not call you here on official business,” he said. “This is a… a private conversation. Yes, that's it, a private conversation.” He looked pleased at finding the phrase.

Amanda glanced at Jeremy, just for a moment. His eyes met hers. Past that, their faces showed no expression. That was something they'd had to learn. But, even though Jeremy's face stayed blank, she was sure he was thinking right along with her again. When an important person told you something was a private conversation, did you believe him? Not on your life!

Did you let him know you didn't believe him? Not on your

life!

“What can we do for you, then, your Excellency?” Amanda still sounded respectful, but she didn't curtsy this time.

The city prefect said, “If King Kuzmickas receives, uh, certain presents from the great and glorious metropolis of Polisso, there is a chance that he will accept those as a symbol of the city and withdraw without troubling us any further.”

Would the King of Lietuva do something like that, or was Sesto Capurnio having pipe dreams? Amanda didn't know.

She didn't think anyone from the home timeline could have answered a question like that. People from the home timeline didn't know enough about this one.

Jeremy asked, “A symbol of the city, you say? Do you mean a symbol of surrender, your Excellency, even if you don't really give up Polisso?”

“No! By the gods, no!” Sesto Capurnio shook his head. His jowls wobbled back and forth. Watching them made Amanda queasy. Far fewer people were heavy here than in the home timeline. The city prefect was one of them, though. He went on, “What would my career be worth if I gave the King of Lietuva such a token? The Emperor would think I had acted unwisely, and he would be right.”

When the prefect talked like that, Amanda believed him. If he was starved into giving up, that was one thing. But if he acted too friendly toward Kuzmickas while Honorio Prisco III could still get his hands on him, that would be something else again. Amanda asked, “Well, what do you want from us, your Excellency?”

“You have some of the richest, most unusual gifts anyone in Polisso could give the King,” Sesto Capurnio answered. “Your razors, your mirrors, your knives with many tools, your hour-reckoners most of all…”

“So you want us to give you some of our goods so you can give them to Kuzmickas?” Amanda asked. “I think we can do that, as long as you pay us back for them.” If the prefect insisted the watches and such were for the good of the city, she was ready to hand them over without getting paid. But she wanted to get the protest on the record.

“The city will pay you for what you give-and I will accept your official report.” Sesto Capurnio not only agreed, he sweetened the deal. He really had to want them to go out to the fearsome King of Lietuva. He went on, “If I make the presents to Kuzmickas, though, I would have to do it as city prefect. It would be an official act by the government. That is what we ca

Amanda and Jeremy looked at each other again. Amanda gave a small nod. Her brother gave an even smaller shrug. “I think we see, your Excellency,” Amanda said cautiously.

“Good.” Sesto Capurnio beamed at them. “Then I will send the two of you out to the King as Polisso's unofficial- very unofficial-ambassadors.”

In an odd way, Jeremy almost admired Sesto Capurnio. The city prefect had solved a lot of his problems at one fell swoop. He was giving King Kuzmickas rich presents. If the King of Lietuva decided to act like a barbarian and break his truce, he would have Jeremy and Amanda, but nobody who actually lived in Polisso all the time. And if Kuzmickas did seize them, Jeremy would have bet Sesto Capurnio would find or invent some legal excuse to get his hands on the trade goods. Yes, a pretty slick move all the way around. Except for us, Jeremy thought.

A soldier at the postern gate nodded to him and Amanda. The Roman smelled of sweat and garlic. “Ready?” he asked them.

“We'd better be,” Jeremy said. Amanda nodded. “Good fortune go with you, then.” The soldier opened the gate. Rusty hinges squeaked. Postern gates almost always stayed closed. They had nothing to do with the ordinary traffic that went into and out of a city. They were for letting soldiers out to make a surprise attack against invaders who were assailing one of the main gates, and for other small, often secret, things like that.

This mission was small, but it wasn't secret. It couldn't be, not with the guns on both sides silent and with soldiers watching from the walls. Jeremy carried a staff with a spray of dried olive leaves attached to the top. In this world, the Romans and Lietuvans and Persians all used that as a sign of truce.