Ibrahim sat quietly considering. Gaius reached for the wine and offered it to him. “Another glass, Ibrahim?”
CHAPTER 25: UNDERWAY AGAIN
The Asia and Africa made an uneventful departure from Masira, but their new southeasterly heading put the monsoon winds more nearly on their beam. The big ships wallowed slowly, rolling drunkenly with the abeam seas, instead of the heady leap and plunge that they had enjoyed with the following seas and winds. Two helmsmen were posted to work the tillers, heavy with effort to counter the winds that continually tried to force the ships back to a northeasterly heading, though the third sail, properly rigged, took some of the work off the tiller. It was clear, with the seas and winds against them, that Muziris would be unattainable. They would have to land at Barygaza, and run along the coast to Muziris. The Asia’s captain Dionysius considered this risky, as the seas would constantly force the ship dangerously close to shore, where they might easily fetch up on a hidden reef or shallows. However, Aulus insisted; there was no alternative.
Aulus was disconsolate, both with the loss of the Europa and with the loss of his cousin Gaius Lucullus. Aulus’s wife Livia would be even more distraught, for they had been as close as brother and sister. Aulus had dispatched a letter to Livia from the naval station at Masira detailing the sad events, and urging her to not give up hope. But it was clear from the tone of his letter, despite many rewrites, that he himself had done so. Perhaps Livia would perform the rituals with Bona Dea, the Roman goddess of women, for his safekeeping. But Aulus feared the rituals would come too late, for it would be months before his letter would arrive in Alexandria.
The world seemed so vast, and the endless expanse of blue water so limitless, under a limitless blue sky. A hundred yards to port and slightly astern, the Africa kept station.
Aulus distrusted his crew, the captain Dionysius on Asia and his counterpart Apollodorus on Africa, all the officers, and even the deckhands. He suspected that at any moment they might turn on him again, steal the ship and throw him, his newly-freedmen and the Hanaean delegates overboard. Aulus’s relationship with Dionysius was cool, formal and impersonal, and he never met alone with the man without Lucius Parvus and his bodyguards, all conspicuously well-armed. And Aulus kept a dagger, hidden in a back sheath, suspended behind his tunic. They could kill him if they wanted, but they would have to work hard to do so.
Three days out of Masira, the lookout in the masthead spotted what appeared to be debris in the water. Dionysius and Aulus went forward to catch a glimpse, their eyes straining against the sunglint. It appeared to be a small boat, similar to the ones they carried. As they drew closer to the bobbing craft, they could see a body, motionless, apparently dead. Dionysius excused himself to the quarterdeck, where he maneuvered the ship expertly alongside to investigate. They signaled the Africa to come dead in the water, and she pulled out of line, passing astern of the Asia, her sails luffing as she came into the wind.
Dionysius expertly laid the huge ship along side of the boat, her sails trimmed to bring her to a halt on the windward side. Sailors clambered down on lines and rope ladders to secure the boat. “He’s still alive!” one of them shouted, and they hoisted the emaciated body, as gently as possible, into a sling and up over the shear sides of Asia onto the deck.
The man was gaunt and severely dehydrated. White flecks of foam edged the sides of his ulcerated lips and unkempt beard, and his body was raw with blistered sunburn and saltwater sores. He could only quiver as they forced ladle after ladle of water down the man’s throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing furiously.
“Get him below! Get him out of the sun!” ordered the boatswain. The sailors carried him below in a makeshift litter.
The boat was hoisted out of the water on a jury-rigged rope cradle and swung, dripping and akilter, onto the main deck. The captain came forward to investigate, and attempt to determine from what ship it might have come.
The boat was not only similar to those on the Asia and Africa, it was identical. The boat was leaking heavily, the painter ripped out of the bow, but it was afloat.
“Dionysius, this boat appears to be from the Europa,” said Aulus.
“That’s hard to say, sir. Adib, the boatbuilder from whom we bought our boats, makes dozens of these, all alike. All I can say for sure is that it’s one of Adib’s boats. See, there’s his mark. But any ship out of Myos Hormos, or even any passing ship needing a replacement, could have several just like it,” said the captain, shaking his head. There were no markings on the boat to denote the ship that had carried it.
“Well, take care of the sailor. One of my bodyguards is skilled in medicine, and he will assist your crew and the ship’s surgeon.” And keep an eye on them, too, thought Aulus. He did not want the man killed to cover up more treachery, although it did not appear that much effort would be needed... the man didn’t appear to have much chance for survival.
He indeed did not have much of a chance. Judging by the sunburn, he appeared to have been in the open boat for more than a week, possibly two. Whatever he had been drinking had run out several days ago, and he was delirious from drinking seawater. Whatever water they forced past his parched, encrusted lips seemed to ooze from the raw, festering blisters and saltwater ulcers. Nevertheless, every seaport had some epic tale of a sailor surviving for weeks, even a month or more, drinking rainwater or urine, and eating flying fish or seagulls.
The sailor remained delirious for a day and a half, and then seemed to become more lucid as evening approached. He was aware of his rescue, and croaked some Aramaic words, thanking his attendants. He rasped out his story, of how he had been swept overboard in a violent storm, but had found the dory towed astern the ship for that purpose. But a giant wave had swept over the ship in the darkness with such force that it had parted the tether. When the storm abated in the morning, he was alone and adrift, the ship nowhere to be seen. He had subsisted on water stashed in an amphora, replenished by rainwater from passing squalls. But the squalls had ceased, and he had been without water now for days.
The ship had been the Europa.
The bodyguard rushed aft to Aulus’s cabin, interrupting him at dinner. “Domine, come quick, he’s awake!” he blurted out, and ran back to catch the rest of the man’s story.
Aulus with Lucius Parvus and his retinue, strode through the crew’s quarters to the man’s bunk, brushing past the captain, the surgeon and a group of attending sailors to the man’s side. “Ask him about the two Roman soldiers!” Aulus demanded in Greek, to no one in particular. One of the sailors rattled off some Aramaic. The survivor seemed confused, and the sailor repeated the question. The man answered hoarsely, and the sailor translated, “He say, sword-man still alive when he go over.”
“Sword-man? Who does he mean? Which one?” queried Aulus. More Aramaic, and the sailor said simply, “Roman sword-man.”
Lucius Parvus interjected, “Antonius was training the crew to repel pirates. Maybe that’s what he means.”
“Antonius, alive? Then maybe Gaius is alive as well. Ask him about Gaius Lucullus. Did the ship survive?” asked Aulus, firing off questions. “How long ago did it happen?”
The translator tried to keep pace, but the sailor just shook his head. Dionysius joined the discussion. “He’s a young deckhand, he probably didn’t know or care about a high-ranking passenger like Gaius Lucullus. Certainly not by name. The ship could still be afloat, or it could have foundered in the storm. And he lost all sense of time days ago. He’s been out a long, long time. Let’s let him rest, and maybe we can learn more later.”
“Hmm, you’re probably right,” said Aulus, edging away from the bunk to let the attendants care for the man. Next to the massive mainmast which stood like a pillar from floor to ceiling, he quietly asked Dionysius, “If the ship survived, where do you think he would head?”
“Sir, I think that storm was about two weeks ago., when we experienced some heavy swells and squalls. The worst of it passed far to our east, I think. So I think he
’s committed to somewhere in India, the Laccadives, or maybe Taprobane.”
“And what was the plan, my good captain Dionysius?” asked Aulus menacingly.
“The plan was for us to seize these two ships under Hasdrubal’s command and sail north. And not ask too many questions about things that didn’t concern us. But do you want my opinion?” Dionysius said levelly, as honestly as possible.
Aulus nodded.
“Most Indian Ocean pirates hit near where we were hit. And escape south with their prize to east Africa. They beach it, break it up and loot it, and try to look like fishermen with a good catch coasting back up to Musa, Eudaemon or Cana in small boats. He’s gone too far to the east for that. Still going to India, and no choice about it now with the wind at his back. Though I can’t figure why.”
Aulus listened attentively. He suspected the captain was being honest. “But why would Antonius be on deck?”
“Perhaps they outwitted Ibrahim Bin Yusuf, and took the ship back. That would explain the easterly heading, too,” explained Dionysius.
“So if the ship survived the storm, then we shall meet in Muziris!” exclaimed Aulus, suddenly exuberant.
“Perhaps. If they survived, if they beat Ibrahim, and if they went there. Many ifs and few solid answers.”
But at least Aulus had a ray of hope.
There were unfortunately no more answers from the castaway sailor. He died the following day, and was buried at sea, Phoenician style.
After several weeks, the convoy made landfall, anchoring far up Narmada River at Barygaza, with the assistance of heavy oared tugboats to tow them past the treacherous and shifting river sandbars. The ships refitted and resupplied, while Aulus’s traders cut some good deals on a few tons of peppers, saffron, cloth and silks, and some truly beautiful ivory carvings. This would make their first installment to pay off Aulus’s creditors. Aulus posted letters through the Roman trading station. One was to go overland to Muziris, posthaste, requesting that the praetor externa, the administrative official representing Roman interests there, detain the Europa and all her crew and passengers, if she was present, until Aulus’s arrival. He might well arrive ahead of the letter, but it was the proper thing to do. The other two were posted to Rome via westbound ships: one went to Livia, and the other to his creditors in Rome, on the fruits of their first port call. They then set off southward to Muziris.
CHAPTER 26: A FRIENDSHIP IS BORN
Ibrahim accepted the arrangement in exchange for Antonius’ training of the crew, no surprise to Gaius or Antonius. Demetrios passed word for the security team to form up in the afternoon, along with the Nubian archers led by a tall black man named Abdi. Abdi trained his own team of mercenaries, but would work with the crew to develop joint tactics against borders. When Antonius showed up, Shmuel at their head stepped forward in front of the men, very shaken. “We failed you, Centurion. I am responsible,” he said in Greek.
Hmm, the young man is catching on. “How is that, optio?”
“We were unable to arm ourselves,” replied Shmuel.
“Why not?”
“I went to the armory to break out weapons, but the keys were gone.”
“I know. They were taken by the officers to prevent your responding. That is their responsibility, not yours.”
“We should have attacked the pirates unarmed, but I could not give the command.”
“Enough! That would have been suicidal. Get on with the training, and put that behind you. Since you feel in need of punishment, however, you may begin with laps along the deck, hard! The first man to throw up his lunch can take a break! Now go!”
The training went well, and the exertions seemed to sweat the shame of their failure from them. Afterward, Antonius went to stand by the rail. He enjoyed watching the vastness of the sea when it was in a peaceful mood. Marcia Lucia came up to join him, alone. “Good day, Antonius, and how is your head?”
“Better, I think, I haven’t looked at it today.”
“Allow me.”
Antonius bent over and she removed the bandage and inspected it. “It’s ugly purple, and still swollen,” she said, pressing gently on the lump.
“Be like that fer a few days,” he growled. “Is it hot? Any pus or oozing?”
“No, just a scab.”
“Leave the bandage off then. Thank you, domina.”
“Antonius, I am not a high born lady! Please.” She smiled shyly at him.
“Arrgh... never mind. I don’ know exactly what ter say ter yer.” He turned back to watch the sea. “Is this yer first time ter sea? I am sorry, is this your first time to sea?”
“That’s all right, I understand you perfectly,you may speak however you are most comfortable… Yes, this is my first time at sea.” She paused, then went on. “Captain Demetrios says that we will be continuing on our trip, and you have come to some understanding with the pirate.”
“We are. As ter the understandin’, Gaius Lucullus worked that out. It seems our shipping master Hasdrubal was in with the pirate, but double-crossed him too, an’ took off with the other two ships.”
“Took off? To where?”
“Ibrahim – that’s the pirate’s name – thinks Parthia. I hate ter say it, but I think those ships and everyone on them is lost. Including the Senator, Gaius’ cousin.”
Marcia watched the restless blue sea for several minutes. “I am sorry for Gaius’ cousin,” she said at last.
“Gaius doesn’t talk about it much. Ibrahim had some scheme, in case Hasdrubal tried something like this, but I don’t think it has much chance. I don’t think we’ll be seein’ them again, I’m afraid.” He watched the ship’s vee-shaped bow wave course along beside them. “I guess – Ming, is that his name? – he’s gone too.”
“I won’t miss him.”
Antonius listened intently to what she said. He wanted to say more, but did not want her run off if he pried too deeply. He tried to think of something to say, but could manage no more than a non-committal “Hmmm…”
“I have never been allowed to speak to any man alone. I am awkward, and I thank you for bearing with me.”
“An’ I be thankin’ yer for bearin’ with me!” he said, with a big smile.
They spent the rest of the afternoon, talking about a lot of nothing, Marcia feeling a freedom she had not known since she was a child.
CHAPTER 27: PORT CALL IN MUZIRIS
The Asia and Africa coasted along the treacherous west coast of India, maintaining a safe distance from the strong currents and shoal waters that plagued that area. The winds were not favorable, and Dionysius continually changed the set of the sails to accommodate contrary winds. It took three weeks to cover the five hundred miles from Barygaza to Muziris, putting in frequently at the dozens of trading ports along India’s west coast to trade and to replenish food and water. But after one memorable stop, the entire crew suffered dysentery the following day from the water. They put in at the next port, discharged their tanks, and replenished again. Fortunately the dysentery subsided, but the crew was more cautious about watering the ship thereafter. Finally the lighthouse off Muziris loomed into view. The crew put in for some much-needed rest, and Aulus went off to visit the praetor externa, a fellow senator named Lucius Sulpicianus, who had adopted the cognomen of Indiacus.
Muziris was a major trading station, with a strong Roman presence. Bankers, insurers, lawyers, judges, translators and merchants, clustered in a Roman-style enclave of warehouses, with apartments for the minor officials, and sumptuous villas for the more successful entrepreneurs and administrators. Within this enclave, Latin and Greek were the norm, and were it not for the fetid heat, Muziris could have been any trading town in the Mediterranean. Aulus and Lucius Parvus trudged up the muddy streets to Sulpicianus’ sumptuous office.
The office was an imposing marble structure, with a colonnaded entranceway to a pleasant atrium. A servant rushed up to attend them. “Aulus Aemilius Galba of the Asia to see Lucius Sulpicianus Indiacus,” said Lucius,
introducing Aulus. The servant bowed and disappeared into a room on the side of the atrium. Aulus waited, admiring the fine statuary, the mosaic floor, and the excellent murals, with a selection of local flowering plants and tropical greenery providing accents above the bubbling fountain pool in the center of the atrium.
The servant returned. “This way, domine. Lucius Sulpicianus is expecting you.”
He led them to a curtained entranceway and swept open the deep blue gold fringed curtain. Lucius Sulpicianus, clad in an elegant but lightweight toga, rose from his desk to greet the two. “Vale, Aulus! I expected you months ago with the first of the shipping. What happened? Prices go up every day, and selection down.”
“You didn’t get my letter from Barygaza?” asked Aulus.
“Barygaza? What the hell were you doing that far north? I thought you were supposed to come here directly.” Lucius seemed concerned and sat on the corner of his polished desk, his arms crossed across his chest.
“It’s in the letter you haven’t yet gotten. I was certain that while I was lugging along the west coast, my letter would precede my arrival.”
“Roads here aren’t what they are in Europe, Aulus. They go out from the city, and then the pavement stops. Pretty soon it’s nothing more than a path in the jungle. Things here are done in Indian time,” Lucius shrugged.
So Aulus related his story, beginning with Hasdrubal’s treachery and the hijacking of the Europa, the events at Masirah, and the finding of the shipwrecked sailor at sea. He then described his detour to Barygaza, and the slow, torturous journey down the west coast of India.
Lucius let a low whistle. “You’re lucky to be here! Fortuna favet portuna! Fortune surely favors the bold! So you lost one ship and a few months of trading. And that’s all.”
“That’s enough. This whole enterprise balances on a knife-edged margin. At least we got some good, if unscheduled, trading up at Barygaza. The merchants were falling all over themselves when they found we were not only early but buying... by the ton! We got some good prices there. And I’m not sure I’ve lost a ship yet, I just can’t find it,” Aulus laughed. Perhaps he was getting his sense of humor back.
The Eagle and the Dragon, a Novel of Rome and China Page 19