Warhorn

by J Glenn Bauer

  Neugen mistook this for a sign that he was preparing to leave. “Are we going to get some provisions before heading back?” He smiled. “I plan to avoid going hungry again for at least a fortnight.”

  “I will arrange provisions for both of you. We need to discuss the business commitments your father had before you go though, Caros. Meet me down at the warehouse just after midday. In the meantime you are welcome to remain here or at the baths if you wish.”

  “Thank you, Marc.” Caros replied earnestly. “This has been a painful business, and I will be truly grateful for your advice.” Then he grinned, “I may just go to the baths again before lunch!”

  Marc laughed, as did Neugen. “Ah, she is a pretty one. Curves in all the right places and such inviting eyes!”

  Caros smiled widely.

  Marc’s eyes narrowed. “You should know she is my niece.” Grinning at Caros’ blush, he paid the proprietor and left.

  Caros and Neugen left feeling better than they had for days. With no plan, they simply wandered through the streets of the walled town, enjoying the morning sun. The town’s inhabitants were now out in full strength, going about their daily work and trade. The vast majority of the people were Bastetani. Their way of life had changed dramatically over the last four generations as the Inland Sea, acting as a trade route, brought Greeks and Phoenicians to their lands here on the Iberian coast. With ever-increasing numbers of these foreign traders and adventurers arriving and settling, the Bastetani had learned and incorporated many new ways into their lives. They were a proud people, but they quickly accepted and mastered improved techniques in building, trade and metalwork. Towns like Baria had been little more than backwater fishing villages. Dotted all along the eastern and southern coast, they now thrived and grew prosperous through trade with a dozen kingdoms along the Inland Sea. Merchant buyers came in their fat-bellied galleys to buy all manner of produce from flax to sea snails. They came especially to buy the iron, silver and gold dug from the mountains inland. Bastetani tired of the hard life working the land, had come to the coastal towns like Baria to claim a share of the wealth this trade brought. Along the cobbled streets that in the not too distant past had been hard packed soil and rock, were all manner of stores and tradesmen. Caros passed leather workers sewing sandals, belts and bags. Their finished goods hung displayed on hooks. Beyond them was a potter’s shop. A tall Bastetani woman with a colourful tunic was tending the store while at the rear Caros could hear the whirling of the potter’s wheel. Two women brushed past Caros to greet the lady in the potter’s stall and begin an excited conversation as only women could. He smelled fresh baked breads and other delicacies and rubbed shoulders with Bastetani, Greek and even Gyptos. He walked a full circuit of the town, taking in all the everyday scenes of life. It felt somehow therapeutic. The loss and pain he had experienced had changed him. He accepted that now and knew he would ever be a different man from the one that rode home seven days past to find a butchered family.

  The sun was edging towards its height. Neugen remembered his horses were in need of new bridles and turned back the way they had come to visit a leather craftsman they had glimpsed working in a stone alley piled with all manner of leather wear. They agreed to meet again at Marc’s bath house.

  Caros found himself strolling in the shade of the town wall. Built of stone, it was the height of a mounted man. On top of the stone wall, a further palisade of stout timber had been erected giving the whole wall a height of well over three times a man’s height. Along the inside of this wooden palisade a walkway allowed guards to patrol or in times of war, slingers and javelin throwers to stand and fight. Tall stone towers rose up, sentinel like, at intervals along the wall, further reinforcing the strength of the town’s defences.

  Caros approached one such tower now. He looked with interest at the solid structure. It seemed to him that all his life he had taken such things for granted. He had never really examined why they were there and how they worked or even his part in them. He had just assumed all would be there the next day and the next. The tower drew him to it and he found himself climbing the stone stairs that led to the battlement. There was a small rectangular room on each level of the tower. Pausing at the doorway of the first he realised this was just an additional firing platform for archers. Rough wooden beams caked in bird droppings and other debris led to two narrow windows. He contemplated entering, but the cloying smell of bird shit turned him back. He passed the second room and a furious flapping startled him practically off the steps. He swore as two plump rock pigeons tore out the doorway, their wings causing his hair to lift, they came so close. He continued to the very top, enjoying the spectacle of the town from this different perspective.

  The sun warmed his face when he reached the top of the stairs. Caros looked down and felt a brief sickening spell of vertigo. He quickly stepped onto the top of the tower proper and lifted his gaze. A figure sat on the edge of the tower overlooking the small bay below the town. The figure was unmistakably feminine. The tunic rode low on one shoulder revealing the smooth, sun kissed skin of her shoulder. She wore her long hair tied in a wide, loose braid that streamed down the center of her back almost to where her hips flared. He marvelled at the russet colours highlighted in her hair by the sun. He stood unmoving, drinking in the loveliness of the woman’s figure as she sat looking out to sea. He had been with women on occasion since he had become a man at the arrival of his thirteenth summer. Usually brief, lusty encounters when at a feast or gathering after he had drank copious amounts of ale and wine.

  He had once thought he was in love with a girl from the village of Helike, the eldest daughter of a merchant there. He had bedded her at every opportunity for a fortnight and day and night he had thought of little else. Coming early one evening to Helike from the Greek port Ebusos where he had expected to be for a few days longer, he had glimpsed a familiar silhouette as he walked passed a cantina. Looking more closely, he saw the merchant’s daughter sitting on a burly warrior’s knee, laughing merrily. Caros had thought would be angered, but instead he felt relief. He had never seen the girl again.

  Now, he cleared his throat politely and approached the outer wall where the woman sat. She turned to glance over her shoulder at him. Caros was overjoyed to see the girl was none other than Ilimic. She smiled widely at him and patted the wall beside her. Caros hopped onto the wall and sat down lightly, his legs dangling beside hers. He noticed again how smooth and shapely they were.

  “This is a pleasant surprise!” He greeted her.

  She flashed a smile at him, her teeth white between dusky red lips. Strands of her hair, loosened from her braid, blew across her face and seemed to frame her deep, brown eyes. She leaned towards him silently and placed a slow kiss on the corner of his lips. Caros felt an intoxicating lust sweep through him. He traced a finger down her cheek, drawing her hair back behind her delicate ear.

  In turn, she stroked the back of his hand. “I am glad you found me here. I come here often to see what the world brings to our lives.” She looked across the sea to the distant smudge of sails on the hazy horizon.

  He glanced that way, but his eyes were instantly drawn back to her. She held his hand now between both of hers on her firm thigh. He took in her form beneath the light tunic. Her nipples pushed like copper coins against the fabric which dropped away to her slender waist where it was cinched with a soft leather belt.

  “Has the world brought anything interesting lately?”

  She cocked her head slightly as though thinking and then a slow, playful smile lifted the corners of her full lips. Caros felt the effect of her smile rush to his head.

  “Perhaps...” She flicked a glance his way and giggled at his expression. “Caros. A strong name.” She lifted his hand to her cheek and closed her eyes briefly.

  He wanted to hold her to him, ached to do so. He disengaged his hand and drew her to him. She shifted closer on the wall, her thigh rubbed up against his. She leaned into his chest and rested her cheek on h
is shoulder while he held her.

  “It was a good day the day Marc built that strange bath house of his.” He said softly.

  She smiled at him, her breath sweet on his cheek. He lowered his lips to taste her. She let him into her and his tongue stroked her lips and then explored deeper. Her tongue met and parried his playfully. He felt her arousal as her breasts pushed against his chest, the thin-woven tunic allowing the feel of her hardened nipples. His free hand stroked her thigh and then he cupped a breast, his thumb flicked over her nipple. She groaned and moved her own hand across and down his chest. Caros felt he could never tire of the sweet taste that was her. His blood was high and becoming more so as her hand stroked lower and then ran along under the edge of the belt at his waist. They broke their kiss, but her hand remained at his belt as she gazed at him, his own hand still gently cupping her firm breast.

  “Caros... a strong name for a strong warrior. I am a maid, you are the warrior brave. I can taste your victory. Share more with me.” Her words were an age-old invitation, as old as the Bastetani themselves.

  Caros nodded. “My victory will be yours too.” They closed and kissed passionately.

  Neugen was already at the bathhouse, stretched out and being rubbed down with a rough sea sponge. “Eh, Caros. This is the life. I am going to enjoy describing it to the men back at Tagilit!” He cocked his head at the girl rubbing him down and winked. “Not all about it though.” She laughed gaily and slapped the sponge over his head. “Ow, hey watch it with that thing, it is hard.”

  She laughed again. “So you say!”

  Ilimic joined them and after Caros had enjoyed another wash and massage under her skilful hands, they all four decided to eat together at the same place they had breakfasted in. It was clear that the girls were sad to see Caros and Neugen leave when they had finished their meals. Caros turned at the door to look back at Ilimic who was picking apart a crust of bread, her face stiff. He nodded to himself and exited to the heat of the day. He was keen to get to the warehouse and make plans with Marc.

  CHAPTER 7

  MARC POINTED AT THE provisions he had purchased for them. “There you go. Plenty of food and some spare sets of clothes. A couple extra water skins. Inspect it and let me know if you need anything else.”

  All the items had been set down on a large oiled skin. The two men walked over and did a mental checklist. They noticed a bedroll for each as well. That was a luxury they had not had while hunting the Arvenci. It seemed everything they needed for the three-day journey to Orze had been provided. Marc had also supplied two heavy-duty, leather packs that could be loaded behind a rider or on a spare mount. These were useful for long journeys where there were longer distances between friendly villages.

  Neugen knelt and rifled through the goods. “Aha, this looks like plenty. Thanks Marc there is more than enough here. I have never been this well supplied before.” Neugen sat back and looked up at Marc. “This is all worth a lot, I’m not sure I can afford it, I have three staters?”

  Caros laughed and Marc waved Neugen’s words away. “It’s a gift! You did us a service helping Caros find the Arvenci. Keep your coin my friend.”

  Looking relieved, Neugen set about packing the items away into the packs supplied. “Hey Caros, do you want me to pack your stuff up as well?”

  Marc and Caros exchanged glances. “No, I will do that when Marc and I are done. Go have a good time in town in the meantime.” He winked at Marc who grinned widely.

  “That is a fine idea. Come join us as soon as you are done here.” Neugen looked up.

  “Us?”

  Neugen winked at Caros. “That is right my friend. I am never lonely when I am in town, despite the crooked nose!”

  Leaving Neugen humming to himself happily as he packed, Caros and Marc climbed a set of stairs to a second level at the rear of the warehouse. The air was stifling hot this close to the roof. Marc threw open the shutters barring a large window. It did not overlook the seaside, but at least created a flow of air that drew out the heat. “So Caros, what are your plans?”

  Caros appreciated Marc’s directness. “I want to restock with ore. Iron, but also silver and copper. Whatever we can buy up from the mines. If war breaks out, I want to be able to supply the needs of the army.”

  “Armies don’t always pay the best prices though. Still, you’ll be looking at volume. Makes sense.”

  “Thing is, if this all dies down and there is no war, there will still be a big demand for the ore. It may take longer to sell, but we’ll not be stuck with it.”

  Marc nodded impressed. “Agreed. So we need to get up to the mines and start buying.”

  Caros shook his head. In the past his father had always hauled the ore using hired wagons and men. It was expensive and took a lot of time to organise, something Caros did not want to get bogged down with. He felt that speed was important in securing deals with the mines. “We’ll pay the mines to arrange the shipments and deliver the ore. I know father always did it himself, but it was time consuming Marc. I’d rather spend that time dealing with buyers.”

  Marc smiled slowly at Caros. “You’re right; I hated organising those bloody wagons and mules. Those drovers are all alike, stubborn as the beasts they drive. The miners won’t like it, but we give them a bonus on top of the price of the ore and they’ll do it.”

  By late afternoon, both Caros and Marc were ready to get out of the building and get some refreshments. They had covered a lot of the planning, but it was clear to Caros that it would take weeks to arrange the purchases and receive the shipments. He thought about Orze and his promise to the villagers there to return and help rebuild. He felt it his duty to protect them. He would make sure that if ever they were attacked again, they would have safe walls to protect them.

  Marc’s words broke through his thoughts, “Have you thought about a place to stay while you arrange this Caros?”

  It had not even occurred to Caros. He remembered that his father used to own a building in the town, but it had been destroyed in a gale storm the previous winter. “Ah, the old place is a wreck isn’t it? I forgot about that! Don’t you have a room I could use Marc?”

  “Not anymore, wife’s mother is in there now.” He said unhappily. Caros grinned at him and he grinned back a little sheepishly, “She’s fine, but Saur’s dogs man she puts me to shame when she breaks wind!”

  Caros snorted, “I see. Oh maybe I’ll set up a place in the warehouse then.”

  “No! It’s awful in there after dark. No, I know a man whose wife runs him and a cantina. They have a room or two they’ll take a copper for.”

  Dusk was already stealing across the small port where fishermen were mending nets and cleaning their catches. Two small trading vessels were berthed on the shingle beach outside the port and men wearing only undergarments were lighting fires on the beach as the crews relaxed. The stench blowing off the galleys was sour and earthy. Marc stopped at the four spearmen sitting just inside the door of the warehouse playing dice and preparing their own meal. “You know why Caros wants four men on guard. That bloody business up in Sagunt. Keep your eyes open and mind that fire when the wind shifts. I don’t want the place burning down.”

  Caros found Neugen at the cantina they had lunched in. He was at a table with two strangers, talking and laughing. Caros signalled to the owner as he strode over to the bench.

  Neugen jumped up, “Ho! Caros! I was just telling these men about the Arvenci.” His eyes were watery from the strong ale. “This is Caros.”

  The two men smiled through their bushy beards and leaped to embrace Caros in turn. The older man spoke, “Bad business; the Arvenci attacking Bastetani villages. Neugen here told us how you fought them. I wish I had been there.” He said wistfully.

  The younger fellow eagerly asked, “Did you really charge them with no armour?”

  Caros blushed and smiled sheepishly. “I did, but I won’t be doing that again anytime soon.” They laughed and had barely sat and begun talking again when C
aros felt a hand brush his neck. Glancing around he found Ilimic standing behind him. He smiled widely. “Ilimic! Have a seat. You finished at the bath house for the day?”

  “Yes, fortunately it’s quiet when there are few merchants in town. Marc charges three staters, so only the wealthy use the facility.”

  She sat down close beside Caros; their thighs rubbing and sending fire through their bodies. Her friend, Nerea, took the space beside Neugen. The two men finished their drinks and winking at Caros and Neugen left.

  Nerea and Neugen were talking quietly to one another and Caros smiled happily at Ilimic. “I have some good news. Well I hope it’s good news. I’ll be staying in Baria for longer than I had thought.”

  “That is good news! For how long?”

  “Till early summer I expect. I must go back to Orze to settle some affairs there before then, but just for a few days.”

  “Oh Caros, that is fantastic! You’ll visit me in the bath house every day won’t you?”

  “I shall be there every chance I get.”

  Neugen looked over. “Ho, did you say you were staying in Baria?”

  Caros nodded. “Yes, Marc and I have some business we want to do with the miners. It’ll be easier to handle from here.”

  Neugen looked a little crestfallen, but then brightened. “I suppose there is no reason I cannot stay a few more days.” He looked pointedly at Nerea who blushed and giggled.