Washington was sitting in his coffee house in Myos Hormos, Egypt, watching his customers.

On one side of the coffee house were businessmen drinking coffee over contracts made with the house’s printing press. The coffee house was getting to be known as the place where legitimate business got done because tea and coffee gave you more energy during contract negotiations, whereas people who did business discussions in taverns were trying to get you drunk, so you made a bad business deal. Furthermore, doing business at the coffee house showed your wealth. You could order pastries that were made with a new thing known as sugar and filled with fruits never seen in the Roman empire.

On the other side of the coffee house were the Christians. Where the businessmen spent most of their money trying to caffeinate and sweeten up potential customers, the Christians spent most of their money printing their scripture. The Christians gave away so much of their literature it did more to promote the press than anything Washington could do. It was rather nice since the library of Alexandria denounced the printing press and was using their political clout to try to ban it since the printing press would end the job of every scribe.

This morning, though, the Christians were going through the newest edition of the Paulsland medical book. Apparently, the writer of the book of Loukas, and Práxeis Apostólōn, which were scripture according to the apostle Paulus, was a doctor, which meant a lot of Christians were interested in medical knowledge. The more Washington got to know the Christians, the odder he felt things were. Often times he had the same goals as the Christians, like in this instance, spreading medical knowledge, although their motives were very different.

In the back corner were the intellectuals. They argued philosophy, bought Paulsland books on mechanics and engineering and brought their experiments in to show off. The coffee house actually allowed Washington to find hidden talent that he hired and sent back to Paulsland.

And as always, there were people in the coffee house who were just there to buy ingredients and go home. The only place to buy coffee, tea, sugar, Paulsland fruits, or Paulsland spices in noncommercial quantities was at the coffee house. Anyone who wanted it at home had to come here.

Washington was sipping his morning coffee as he was taking everything in when an employee of the Central Roman Trading Company came in with a look of anger on his face. Washington was wondering what was wrong. When the employee spotted Washington, he came right over and said, “Several Himyarite ships have shown up today with Paulsland slaves on board.”

If looks could kill, Washington’s face would have killed everyone in the room. He was furious. He had to calm himself down, and it took a good twenty seconds before he could talk, but in that time, the entire coffee house got quiet. This was Rome; it paid to pay attention to those in stations above you, so people noticed when someone in the upper level of society lost their temper, if for no other reason than it could be bad for your health.

When Washington noticed everyone was quietly and timidly looking at him, he said, “There has been a problem at the docks I must take care of. Continue enjoying your day; it has nothing to do with any of you.” Then he whispered to his employee, “Come with me. I need you to do something while I deal with the problem at the docks.”

The two quickly headed out as everyone watched them. As soon as they left, everyone asked what happened, and several wondered if they could use whatever the problem was to get on Washington's good side.

Once they were outside, Washington walked quickly toward the docks and began talking to his employee, “I need you to take a chariot to Alexandria, bring ten talents of gold with you, and get Marcus Mettius Rufus to betroth his daughter to me.”

“Is that wise? You and Marcia have visited each other several times, and the one thing that’s very clear is that she views the world very differently than you do, and the Christians have warned you that the Roman Elite view marriage very differently than you.”

“How differently can the Romans view marriage? The Christians basically view marriage the same way Paulsland does, except they discourage polygamy. Christians can not be that different from the Romans.”

The employee gave his boss a regretful look, then said, “Yes, sir. But are you sure you want me to take a chariot? They are expensive to rent, especially if I head all the way to Alexandria.”

“There is no faster way to get there. I am sure Marcus will need some time to think about the betrothal, and I do not want him hearing about Paulsland’s war.”

“We do not know if Paulsland is at war yet.”

“The Himyarites made our people slaves. If they are not invading Paulsland, then I am sure my father is invading them by now. My father HATES the idea of slavery. I assure you we are at war.”

The young employee gave Washington a sad look, then said, “Yes, sir,” and left.

Washington yelled out, “Send some employees to meet me at the dock. I have work for them.”

As the employee continued walking, he said, “Yes, sir,” and quickened his steps.

Washington made his way through the city streets, but unlike most days, everyone kept their distance. Washington was visibly angry. Washington was normally in good cheer, but he was the type that wore his emotions on his sleeves.

When he reached the docks, Washington did not look for the slave ships; he went looking for the Quaestor. The slavers would have to register their slaves with the Quaestor before they were sold, and Washington was about to influence his decision.

Washington asked a few people where he was, and unsurprisingly the Quaestor was in his office. He worked for the government; he was not about to be in a hurry before someone paid him a bribe.

When Washington walked into his office, the Quaestor looked closely at Washington, saw how richly he was dressed, smiled, and asked, “What can I do for you?”

“Are you the Quaestor over slaves?” Washington was legitimately asking. There were several Quaestors, each overseeing the quality of merchandise brought into Roman ports. Washington interacted with several on a weekly basis, but since the Central Roman Trading Company never sold slaves, Washington was not familiar with this one.

“I am.”

Washington pulled out his coin purse and flatly put it on the man's desk, and said, “The Himyarites brought in slaves today from the nation of Paulsland. I need you to mark all the slaves as too sick to have a guarantee.”

When most slaves were sold in the Roman empire, the seller had to guarantee the health of the slave for six months. If the slave fell sickly or died before then, the buyer could return the slave for a refund. A slave sold without a guarantee was worth significantly less than one with one.

The Quaestor’s eyes went a bit wide, then he began counting the coins and said, “This is not nearly enough for that.”

“How about a hundred more gold coins, and I will support you in the next election.” The Quaestors gained their position through election.

“Can you influence the lot so I oversee the spice trade instead of the slave trade?”

Once Quaestors won their election, they were given their job by casting lots, by chance, and some got really prestigious jobs like being over the incredibly lucrative spice trade, and others got less than lucrative jobs. Anywhere besides Egypt, the Quaestor overseeing the slave trade would be one of the best jobs, but the slave trade was one of the smaller trades in this port, so the slave Quaestor received significantly fewer bribes than his counterparts.

“I will see what I can do. You should know I am in a bit of a courtship with Marcus Mettius Rufus’s daughter. I just sent my servant to give a betrothal gift. If things work out well, it may be easy to give you any job you want.”

The man's face was so expressive Washington could practically read his thoughts as he rejoiced at hooking his wagon to a rising star.

“With the gold and your promise, I will mark every one of their slaves without guarantee. Do you want anything else?”

“Oh yes. I need you to put off looking at the slaves for three days.”

“That won't be a problem. Not a problem at all.”

Bribery done, Washington found his employees and asked, “How many Paulsland ships are in port?”

One of his men said, “Four.”

“How many slave ships carried our people?”

“Three.”

“Gather as many of our men as you can and put them on our ships. When those three slave ships leave, follow them, and take them.”

“Are we at war?”

“Yes.”

“What about your father's war Plan?”

Washington went silent for a moment and said, “We only need one man to act as traitor and sell our perfume formula. Most of our other men can help our ships capture the slavers. Then we will send them back to my father for judgment. If any more Paulsland ships show up, they can help with the attack.”