Hostage to Fortuna

by R. W. Peake

  I was somewhat surprised that she did not hesitate, and once I saw her ascending the plank, I turned back to Ivomagus.

  “Did you tell Gnaeus?” I asked him.

  “No, he has no idea,” he replied. Then he admitted, “I had to sneak out and pick Bronwen up down the road because Cogidubnus has men watching.”

  “Watching who?” I demanded, my suspicions suddenly aroused that the bastard had something else in mind for Gnaeus.

  “Me,” Ivomagus answered. Either seeing or sensing my surprise, he explained, “I love my brother, and he loves me, but what he did with Gnaeus has created a…problem between us.”

  To me, it sounded like we would be taking on another passenger, but when I suggested that he come with us, he was adamant.

  “No, I will not leave. I just returned. Besides,” he smiled sadly, “my brother is a great warrior, but he is not a great King. Since I have been home, I have learned a great deal about the mistakes he has made. Our father made me swear an oath on his deathbed that I always do my best to help Cogidubnus, and that is what I will do.”

  I hope he doesn’t cut your throat because of it, I thought, but aloud, I said, honestly, “That is very honorable, Ivomagus.”

  I could tell this pleased him, but then he glanced up at the sky.

  “It is getting late. Or,” he laughed, “early. But I need to return to the hall before my brother awakes and calls for me.”

  Before he turned away, I offered my arm.

  “I doubt that we will have the opportunity in the morning,” I told him. “So I want to take this time to thank you for this.” Even if your brother is a treacherous and greedy viper, was the thought that stayed inside my head.

  He accepted my offer, taking my arm in our manner, then without another word, he turned and hurried to his chariot. I stayed on the dock just long enough to see him turn the corner in his chariot, then I ascended the plank, resigning myself to no more sleep.

  As I had predicted, I was roused by Ivomagus, who, if anything, looked even more tired than I still felt.

  “Did you get any sleep?” I found myself asking.

  “No,” he confirmed. He hesitated, then added, “I had some matters to attend to.” Either he realized how I might take this or it showed in my face, because he added hurriedly, “Nothing that will delay your departure.”

  I searched his face, difficult because the only illumination was the oil lamp he had carried with him and set down, but I saw nothing in it that gave me any pause, so I began putting on my armor over my tunic without the padded undershirt that I would have worn going into battle.

  “I have roused the kitchen slaves so you can break your fast,” he said as he left the room, and as often happens with me, his mention of food instantly reminded me of my almost constant state of hunger, which in this instance was exacerbated because I had deliberately eaten lightly the night before.

  Consequently, once I was prepared and with a last glance around what was both my quarters and my cell to ensure I left nothing behind, I headed immediately out into the hall, and I am certain that my approach was announced by the noises my stomach was making. Ivomagus had been true to his word; two slaves were already laying out a platter of cold meat, hunks of the Briton version of bread, which is made of barley and not wheat. That this is the bread we provide to rankers on punishment was something I had considered pointing out as a jibe against my captors, but had decided against it. Although I had become accustomed to it, even as I was shoving chunks of the dark bread into my mouth, I was dreaming of a golden loaf of castra paneris, made with wheat as bread is meant to be made. After I finished eating, I followed Ivomagus outside, where there were four chariots waiting, and it was here there was another choice for me to make, when Ivomagus indicated not his chariot, but the one where Cogidubnus and his driver were waiting.

  “My brother asks for the honor to ride with him to Petuar,” Ivomagus said, and when I glanced over at him, his expression was enough to convey his concern at how I might respond.

  I did have to take a breath so that I could lie through my teeth, “Tell him I am the one who’s honored, and of course I’ll accept.”

  Then I strode over to the chariot, stepped up onto it, and gave my version of a bow to Cogidubnus, although this time, he did not seem unhappy about it. We waited for Ivomagus and the pairs of bodyguards to mount the other chariots, and with the horizon turning pink, Cogidubnus issued the command, his driver slapped the reins, and the horses went immediately to a trot. Once more, I had anticipated this, not needing to grab the railing on the side, and we pulled onto the track for Petuar. It was within a couple dozen heartbeats that I realized something; either Cogidubnus had been hoping I refused his offer or he was reconsidering the wisdom of it, because I kept seeing him glance over at me. It’s almost as if, I thought suddenly, he’s worried I’m going to snap his neck. This thought cheered me considerably, and while it did not completely erase the sour taste in my mouth of what lay ahead, it certainly helped. I turned my attention to our old camp for what I hoped would be the final time, and I considered asking Cogidubnus what his real purpose for leaving it intact was, but decided against it; as far as I know, it is still there.

  It had gotten light enough for me to see the tops of the thatched roofs of Petuar, and I blame this sight for the sudden stab that, while not physical in nature, was every bit as painful as if a blade had been plunged into my body as I realized that it was not just the camp I would never see again. Something in my demeanor must have alerted Cogidubnus, because less than a heartbeat after this realization hit me, I saw his head turn to examine me. I ignored it, and after a moment, he turned away. Within a few heartbeats of this, we were at the corner, turning into the square, where I saw that the Salacia was now moored at the dock. More importantly, I saw several figures on the deck of the ship, while the oars had already been placed in the water, although they were hanging there, the most potent sign that, as soon as it was possible, we would be leaving. When Cogidubnus saw this, however, he drew a very different conclusion, and he turned to say something to me, his tone telling me why he was doing so.

  It was left to Ivomagus, who called out from behind us, “My brother is concerned about why your ship seems about to depart, Gnaeus.”

  “Pluto’s cock.” I muttered this under my breath, and Cogidubnus scowled at me for it, which I ignored to answer his brother, “What does he think we’re going to do, Ivomagus? That I’m going to dash onto the ship and then pull away? Or,” I added scornfully, touching my hamata to make my point, “that they’re about to pull away and I’m going to swim after them? Wearing this?”

  Ivomagus presumably translated this; perhaps not the actual words but the meaning, and his brother relaxed slightly, although he was still clearly wary. By this point, we were pulling up to the dock, and given the tension, I waited until we were at a complete stop before I hopped down, not wanting to appear as if I was about to bolt up the plank. Once Cogidubnus and Ivomagus were standing next to me, suddenly, none of us seemed to know what to do. I assumed that they were waiting for me to make the next move, as I was doing with them, mostly out of stubbornness and not wanting to appear to cooperate with this in any way.

  “Pilus Prior!” We all looked up to Alex, who said, “Might I suggest that Ivomagus come aboard so that he can examine the ransom while you stay with King Cogidubnus?”

  I nodded, somewhat abashed, as were the brothers once Ivomagus translated, and Cogidubnus gave his permission. Ivomagus strode up the plank, and because of the height of the deck above the dock, I could only see the tops of both chests, behind which Hemina and Trio were standing, while Marcellus was standing in the prow. Celer was nowhere to be seen; as I would learn shortly, it was because he was below the main deck, out of sight, in charge of the javelins that Marcellus had suggested be ready in case they were needed. Alex walked with Ivomagus to the first of the chests, pulling out the key from under his tunic, unlocking it. It was this moment that I realized somet
hing, or more accurately, that something was missing, but there was nobody with me on the dock that could answer it.

  I called Alex’s name, and when he looked up, I called out, “Where’s the scale? How do they plan to weigh it?”

  I was a bit abashed because, of course, Ivomagus understood me, so he was the one who answered; fortunately, he was clearly more embarrassed to admit, “We do not have any scale here in Petuar that is capable of handling this much weight.”

  I was about to ask how they were going to verify that Alex had brought the correct amount, but then I saw the lid fully opened, and despite knowing it was my imagination, I was convinced I saw the reflected glow of all that gold bathing Ivomagus in its light. What was not in my imagination was how Ivomagus took a step backward, his jaw hanging open at the sight, but Alex was already opening the second chest. Then, he bent over, and while I could not see, I was certain that he was rummaging around in both chests to make sure Alex had not substituted something for the gold, like lead. We had actually discussed this briefly, but dismissed it for this very reason, and I watched as Ivomagus examined the contents of the second chest, then he stood erect. Ivomagus let out a small shout, and for the second time in a short span, I felt as if I had been stabbed again at the obvious joy he was showing. He turned and shouted down to Cogidubnus, but this time, I made sure not to look in his direction, certain that I would make him feel the stabbing pain I was experiencing in a more visceral manner. Most importantly, Ivomagus nodded, and Cogidubnus snapped an order to the men in the other chariots, informing me that they had not been brought as guards as much as labor, and they hurried up the plank. It took two men to handle one chest, and they were clearly struggling as they lifted it up and onto the plank, then hopped up, picked it up, and slowly made their way down to the dock. Even from where I was standing, I heard them panting from the strain, then the second pair of Parisii followed them. The instant they stepped onto the dock, without a glance at Cogidubnus, I strode up the plank, but I will not lie, my upper body was rigid with the tension that comes from expecting some sort of missile to strike me between the shoulder blades. Ivomagus was standing there, still on the ship, and while I had expected him to hop up onto the plank so that we would meet halfway, he remained there until I dropped down onto the deck. We stood there for a long moment, saying nothing; honestly, I did not know what to say. My feelings towards Ivomagus the Parisii were, and still are, hopelessly entangled. I still fault him for allowing Cogidubnus to do what he had done to me, yet at the same time, I could not fault him for being loyal to his brother. And, I believed, and still believe that, if it was within his power, he would have done things differently. Finally, I broke this quiet, and I regret that my bitterness got the better of me, because I jerked my head towards the dock.

  “Go on, go join your brother and count his money. Then you can plan on how to spend it.”

  This made Ivomagus’ face darken, but it was his expression that helped assuage my anger more than anything else.

  “You were not treated with honor, Centurion Pullus,” he spoke with a voice that conveyed his feelings more than his words. “And for that, I am truly regretful. Yes,” his mouth twisted, “I was made a slave, and I served Rome against my will.” He took a deep breath, then continued, “But that was not your doing, and I will never forget that you saved my life.” In a surprise, at least to me, he thrust his arm out in our manner. “I will pray to our gods that you are returned to your home safely. And,” for the first time, he gave a glimmer of a smile, “that I never see you as Mandubracius saw your great-grandfather.”

  I accepted his arm, and I was being honest when I replied, “Your brother doesn’t deserve your counsel, Ivomagus.”

  He shocked me by replying simply, “I know.” Then he abruptly spun about and hopped up onto the plank, but he was about halfway down when he stopped to call over his shoulder, “I hope my gift to you helps repay my debt.”

  Then he strode off, and while I was curious to know what he meant, getting away from Petuar was more important than asking him. Within a heartbeat after his feet hit the dock, two of the crewmen were hauling the plank back aboard, and it barely hit the deck when the ship’s master Squillus shouted down the order to his Hortator. I have no experience in such matters, but I believe that the Salacia pulled away from the dock of Petuar more rapidly than any ship in history. I could not bring myself to watch the Parisii celebrating at this fabulous increase in their wealth, so I spun around to face the stern as the ship pulled away and out into the current of the river. Alex joined me, even turning away as I had, but I felt his eyes studying me.

  “I’m fine,” I tried to assure him, but he was not fooled.

  “No, you’re not,” he replied flatly, then before I could protest, he said, “And I’d be worried about you if you were. But,” he added emphatically, “the important thing is that you’re safe now. And, we’re going home.”

  Home. That word; what did it mean ultimately? Was Ubiorum really my home? My Cohort was there, the Legion was there, but what did that mean? For the first time, standing on the deck of the Salacia, as we rowed downstream from the Parisii town of Petuar, I understood, I mean I truly understood the melancholy tone of the last part of my great-grandfather’s account. The first and the greatest Titus Pullus had achieved all that he had set out to do, and in the process, he accrued a massive fortune for his descendants, but at a terrible cost to himself of all the things that a man should desire, a woman’s love and a family to carry on your name. Now, between the actions of one of his grandsons and the actions of his one and only great-grandson, all that he had achieved had been, if not ruined completely, seriously damaged. I walked to the bow of the ship; without a word, Alex followed me, and we silently stood together as the ship moved swiftly downriver, although no matter how fast it was, it would not have been enough for me. Wisely, he did not say anything, and I was content to just watch the landscape slipping past, as flat and relatively barren as it is this close to the coast. I smelled the sea before I saw it, as both banks of the river seemed to move away from the ship as it widened until, finally, there was no green on either side, and as I looked down at the water, I was reminded by its brown color how we had managed to find it in the first place. Perhaps it was this that brought the onrush of fatigue, but whatever the cause, suddenly, all that mattered was getting some sleep. When I mentioned this to Alex, I did not notice the sudden glint in his eye, and since he turned and immediately headed for the ladder down to the main deck, I followed him. We walked towards the stern and descended the ladder. The cabin door was closed, but when I indicated that Alex follow me in since I had some things I wanted to discuss, he refused.

  When I pressed him, he only said, “You need your rest.”

  Then, before I could say anything, he scrambled up the ladder, and my fatigue was such that I did not even attempt to stop him. I pulled off my helmet, then opened the door to the master’s cabin.

  When I saw the figure standing there, I cannot even estimate how long I stood motionless as my mind tried to comprehend what I was seeing. If anything, she was more beautiful than I remembered; a foolish thing to say, I know, since I had seen her a matter of a couple of watches earlier. She was still wearing the gown she had been wearing the night before, and we stood there, gaping at each other, but it was Bronwen who broke the silence.

  “I decided to come.”

  Chapter Nine

  I had to enlist Marcellus to block Squillus from descending to his own cabin, muttering about how he had been roused from sleep, and how a man needs his sleep. However, while he grumbled a bit, there was also a grin on his face, although I did not ask why since I was certain I knew. In fact, both Squillus and his crew stood on deck, grinning like fools, but I could hardly chastise them since the four former Legionaries were behaving in the exact same manner.

  All I said was, “When Pilus Prior Pullus comes out on deck, if any of you look at him like you’re looking at me, I hope you know how to swim
. And,” I added, “after last night, I’d count myself on being blessed by Fortuna that’s all he did.”

  I was pleased to see how quickly they assured me that he would have absolutely no cause for complaint when he came up on deck. When I returned to the ship the night before, I had told the men what I had seen Gnaeus do to Berdic, not for any other purpose than I needed to talk about it because I was still having trouble understanding it. Now that we were out into the channel, the wind naturally picked up, but it was almost directly in our face, which meant we were under oar power only, and I settled down on the deck with Marcellus and the other three men. Now that there was nothing to guard, they were at loose ends, and very quickly, Hemina, Celer, and Trio were rolling the dice, leaving Marcellus and me to talk.

  “When are you going to tell the Centurion?” he asked me, not having to define the subject, if only because that was all that was on my mind.

  “I don’t know,” I answered miserably, and the truth was that I did not. “I suppose I should tell him as soon as he comes up on deck…”

  “Are you mad?” Marcellus gasped, but while I saw he was sincere, I had no idea why.

  “I’d like to think I’m not,” I replied, “but apparently, you think that’s a bad idea.”

  Marcellus stared at me, giving me the strong impression he was waiting for me to see his point, so rather than asking him to explain, I thought for a long moment…then, it came to me, or at least I thought it had.

  “Oh,” I finally spoke. “You’re thinking that he’s down there with Bronwen, and…” I did not finish.

  “I doubt there’s a lot of talking going on down there,” Marcellus finished for me. “And,” he added, “I don’t know about you, but just after I’ve been with a woman, especially a woman like that?” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t be happy with whoever came to give me bad news. Not,” he finished wistfully, “that I’ve ever been with a woman like her.”