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The Eagle and the Dragon, a Novel of Rome and China

Page 71

by Lewis F. McIntyre


  Marcia overheard this and walked up, “Why do you think they are Hanaeans?” she asked.

  “Hanaean banners with characters on them, yellow”

  She put her hand to her mouth. “Gan Ying’s banners were yellow!”

  While everyone else was still talking, Marcia started off on Excelsior, following Antonius’ well-marked trail in the wild winter grass. She found the site and was down examining it when everyone else rode up.

  “This is Gan Ying’s expedition! That is his banner, ‘Western Harmony’! She cast among the wreckage, looking for anything she might find. These were people she knew, five she had grown up with in Liqian, had traveled with them all for years and knew their names, though time and animals had left no one identifiable. Her eyes fell on a leather tube, also carrying the ‘Western Harmony’ symbols. She picked it up, opened it and extracted a paper roll. She was reading the Hanaean script, her lips moving silently, when Antonius came up beside her.

  “This is Gan Ying’s report. He made a copy of this for Wang Ming, in case something happened to him… it seems something did,” she said bitterly. “I helped Ming prepare for his presentation of it to Emperor He.”

  Antonius put his arm around her shoulders. He had an arrow in his hand. “Parthian army arrow. I pulled it out of one of the rib cages. This was treachery, to make sure they never got back.”

  This discovery heightened their sense of danger, despite the absence of any apparent pursuit. Once again they stayed off the roads and avoided inns, while the fluent Aramaic speakers Yakov and Shmuel purchased what supplies they needed in towns. Parthian cavalry patrols clattered by on the roads below them, but did not seem to be actively searching for anyone. Nevertheless they stayed in concealment, weapons ready, until they passed.

  A few weeks travel found them in the Elburz Mountains of Hyrcania, just a few hundred miles from the limites of Rome, the border and safety. They camped off road, but set nightwatches against the huge wolves lurking in the dense forest.

  Gaius took the midnight watch with Marcia, but did not feel like talking. Marcia was seated across the fire from him, crosslegged in the style she had adapted from Hina when wearing trousers. I used to find that somehow offensive, but no longer. She is like Anahita, the goddess from Bagram, proud to be a woman. I wonder what Camilla will think, though.

  Marcia said something, jarring him from his revery. “I’m sorry, my mind was elsewhere. What did you say?”

  “Just that yer mind goes wanderin’ more an’ more, the closer we git to the limites,” she answered colloquially with a grin, then switched to formal speech. “Even Aulus is looking forward to going home, though he fears having to admit failure. You used to be the most cheerful of the lot at the worst of times. What is bothering you?”

  “Camilla. I am worrying about what I will find when I get back. Someone in my bed, raising the children that I didn’t have time for?”

  “Did she ever say anything in her letters to make you think something was wrong?”

  “No, never. Always cheerful, what the children were doing, work around the garden. Never complaining. Of course there haven’t been any letters in either direction for the last two years,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Ah, that’s better. I got a laugh out of you. How did you come to be married?”

  “Oh, typical Roman wedding. Uncle Mercator wanted to cement a business relationship with her father, and she was part of the deal. She was fifteen and I was twenty five, home on leave, so we married and spent enough time to get her pregnant with Gaius Secundus, then I had to go back up to the Danube. Came back the next year to meet him. Then the next year, long enough to get her pregnant with Lucia Camilliana… and back to the eagles for that birth, also!”

  “That is a hard life. I imagine all soldiers’ wives put up with that.”

  “The troops, like Antonius, can’t get married. Tribunes, like I was, can, but most don’t. Those that do, try to keep their wives close by, but that can be rough living. And the frontier can be dangerous… thousands of women and children were butchered in Britannia forty years ago during an uprising. I didn’t want her there.” He paused to stare thoughfully into the crackling, low-burning fire. “Enough of me, you have done an admirable job of whipping Antonius into a devoted husband, s I thought I’d never see that!”

  “That’s it, I got another smile from you! We are making progress with your mood. Yes, he has, but the gods know I am not the person he first met in Alexandria three years ago either. Not at all.”

  The horses began nickering nervously, interrupting their introspection. Gaius shoved a torch into the fire to light it and grabbed his sword. “Marcia, go wake the others! I think we have wolves again!”

  CHAPTER 81: HOME AT LAST: ROME, 103AD

  Lucius Julius Maximus, legatus commanding Legio XII Fulminata, sat behind the worn campaign desk in his curule chair in front of the finely crafted leather mappa mundi from Alexandria. Across from him sat Aulus in his senatorial toga, Gaius Lucullus and Antonius Aristides in uniform, all freshly-shaved, their faces still red and raw. Marcia Lucia wore her splendid stola. The layout reminded Gaius of his departure three years ago, but this meeting was in the gray stone praetorium of the legion’s permanent fort in Romana, near the ‘The City of Winds,’ Baku on the Caspian Sea. Lucius Julius’ close-cropped hair had gone a bit gray around the temple in the intervening few years. The tanned leathery skin around the commander’s eyes crinkled a bit as the he examined Gan Ying’s report to the Hanaean emperor, neatly printed in translation in Marcia’s delicate miniscule script. The indecipherable Hanaean original lay on the desk, along with a Parthian army arrow and a bag of silver and gold coins of various denominations and nationalities.

  “So the Parthians ambushed them a couple of years ago?” he asked.

  “It appears to be so,” answered Gaius. “Definitely a Parthian arrow, army issue.”

  Aulus added, “The Parthians very much did not want a relationship to develop between Rome and Luoyang. They were almost successful in detouring Gan Ying and preventing him from reaching Rome, and they, I think, stirred up our problems in Luoyang. And Kadphises in Bactria sent a strong message to Pacorus not to interfere with us.”

  Aulus continued with the final bit of his two hour report, delivered impromptu and without notes. “So after we discovered the Gan Ying massacre, we decided to avoid the roads and inns. The trip was uneventful, except for the damned wolves in Hyrcania.”

  Lucius Julius chuckled. “Yes, they gave their name to that place south of the Caspian Sea. ‘Werka’ is the word for wolf, approximated in Greek as Hyrcania, the land of wolves.”

  Antonius interjected. “Bloody big barstids, sir, and bold, no fear. Come right up ter our campfires, twenty feet away, and just look at us, they eyes glowin’ in the firelight.”

  Aulus continued. “But other than that, uneventful. And damned glad to be back on Roman soil. The only thing I don’t understand is how Hasdrubal wound up driving camels in Aria. The last time I saw him he was heading to jail in Masira to await execution.”

  Lucius Julius smiled. “How he got to Aria is anyone’s guess. But he didn’t stay in jail in Masira for long. He broke out, apparently helped by one of his guards, whom he killed right afterward on the beach. Bashed his head in, dumped the body at sea, but it washed right up. Titus Cornelius put out an urgent report among all the military commanders because of his high status, access to large sums of money, piracy and the hijacking of your imperial mission.”

  Just then, the commander’s orderly entered the back of the room, stood at attention and saluted, arm across his chest. “The documents you requested, sir!”

  Lucius Julius waved him in. “Come in, come in, lad.” The young man strode stiff as a spear to the commander’s desk and presented him two scrolls. The commander unrolled and scrutinized them, then waved him off. “Thank you, lad, and express my thanks to the librarii for their quick turnaround on these.”

  “Yes, sir!” He salu
ted again, arm across his chest, and left.

  Lucius Julius handed the documents to Aulus. “Here are the pardons you requested on Yakov bin Ibrahim and Shmuel ben Eliazar. And express my congratulations to them for their efforts. Do you know where they intend to go?”

  “Shmuel wants to return to his mother Devorah in Galilee, and Yakov wants to return to Petra. And when I get back to the Senate, I intend to introduce motions for citizenship.”

  “Admirable, Senator.” The commander paused, then continued, “Interesting report! I had not intended this adventure to become such a monumental challenge when I detached your cousin Gaius and Antonius three years ago!”

  Aulus answered with a smile. “It was quite the adventure. And thank you for the pardons. Whatever those two did in the past, they certainly made up for it on this trip! I think everyone had a hand in saving everyone else’s life at least once. Marcia, most recently!”

  The commander eyed Marcia, trim and elegant in her white silk stola. “You are quite the talented young woman, Marcia Lucia.”

  “Thank you, sir, but I think I am done with fighting for a while,” she answered demurely.

  “As are we all,” added Antonius with a smile. “And I am greatly honored that you offered me a slot as praefectus castrorum, sir. But I’ve been followin’ the eagles fer most of my life. I want ter spend time with me lovely wife now, and hope to be raisin’ yer some young legionnaires shortly. Bein’ as how raisin’ a family an’ following the eagles, they don’t mix well.”

  “I fully understand, Antonius. Well, you will exit your service with equestrian status, back pay for the past three years and a generous bonus for this task. Where do you intend to take your land settlement?”

  Antonius switched from his coarse Latin to the polished rhetoric which the commander had never heard him use before. “I intend to become a tutor in my home of Aquileia, as my father before me. The usual studies, Greek and Latin rhetoric, the philosophers, but also perhaps teaching Hanaean and Bactrian to those interested.”

  “Antonius, you surprise me! Your speech is elegant… how come you never spoke like that before?”

  Antonius reverted to his old speech. “An’ as yer know, sir, a soldier has ter fit in among his messmates. Don’t pay ter be puttin’ on airs.”

  “Agreed. Well, good luck to you and your beautiful wife. Expect a lot of visitors to your new academy wanting to learn what you have learned.” He turned to Aulus with a smile, “By the way, Senator, I looked in this bag, you said it was what was left of the ransom paid to Ibrahim. But odd, I didn’t see anything in there but beeswax. Why don’t you take this beeswax and distribute it among your group as you see fit, as you paid the ransom out of your own money. Over and above the honorarium we will be paying Gaius and Antonius.”

  The commander picked up another document from his desk. “Gaius, I have nominated a posting for you, awaiting Trajan’s confirmation, to command the Legio II Traiana in Dacia, after an appropriate time at home with your wife and family. That is a brand-new legion, fitting out to settle the mess in Dacia. Their king Decebalus is up to his usual treachery, despite getting mauled several times while you were gone. Trajan is preparing to throw half the Roman army along the Danube against him, and II Trai will likely be the tip of that spear.”

  “Honored, sir,” answered Gaius.

  “Very well, then, I won’t take up any more of your well-earned rest and relaxation time. There is a military escort waiting to get you to Trapezus where a fast packet ship leaves for Rome in about a month. Good luck in Rome with Trajan!” Lucius Julius rearranged some papers and writing instruments on his desks, and the group took their cue to depart.

  The only sad part of departing was Marcia’s farewell to her faithful Excelsior. The small packet had no accommodations for horses on such a long trip. However, he was going to stud duty with the XII Ful’s cavalry wing, a job he would surely enjoy. She gave him his last apple, he nickered softly, ears twitching as she rubbed his velvet nose, then she turned away and left quickly, hoping not to burst into tears with the hostlers watching.

  In the fall of the year, the fast packet docked at Ostia to discharge its passengers. Gaius departed to Neapolis for a long overdue reunion with his wife, accompanied by Antonius and Marcia to meet Gaius’ family. Everyone would return to Rome to be present at Aulus’s presentation before the Senate curia and Emperor Trajan. They had received word via the Praetorian Guard that the Princeps Trajan would be expecting them to accompany him as his guests on the imperial dais in the Senate for Aulus’s presentation.

  After that, Gaius would return home for a few months of leave before departing for his new command in Dacia, and Antonius and Marcia would depart for their new home in Aquileia.

  Aulus’s freedman and financial advisor Lucius Parvus greeted the Senator in Ostia with two pieces of good news and one piece of bad news.

  “Yes, sir,” he said enthusiastically. “The voyage was a financial success beyond our wildest dreams. The Africa, returning early laden with Indian trade goods, paid off most of the creditors alone. The Asia and Europa, laden with exotic silks by the ton, Hanaean iron ingots in the bilge for ballast, thousands of board feet of exotic bamboo of various diameters… we are still counting the profits but it is huge, Gaius! Huge! We doubled our investment, at least.”

  “And…”

  “Livia delivered a beautiful baby boy, now three years old.”

  “I know, I heard via Gaius. He received several letters at the fort that his wife Camilla had written him over the past several years, many about young Pontus Servilius Galba! I can’t wait to see him. I hope he isn’t afraid of strangers!” Aulus paused. “And the bad news?”

  “Your political rivals in the Senate are furious that you not only failed to meet with the Hanaean emperor, but you so thoroughly displeased him that you were condemned to death and had to escape like a common criminal. They want the government’s share for the expedition refunded, including the money for the ships, since the mission was an abject failure… as they say, an exciting and interesting tale, but not what they paid for. If they succeed, we will be severely in the red, and we may lose the ships.”

  It was a glum ride back to Rome, bouncing along in the luxurious carriage. The affable Aulus thought he had few political enemies, but success seemed to manufacture them. The story of his expedition had preceded him, based on stories in letters from soldiers of the XII Ful, feeding into the Roman gossip mill. Various concoctions, featuring battles with fierce beasts, an attack by a whole army of Amazon warriors… Hina would love that one… and a fierce battle against hordes of giant Hanaean warriors. These were the stories found in the Acta Dialis ‘Daily Doings’ gossip sheets posted in the various fora in the city. He might be a folk hero, but to his fellow senators, he was an abject failure.

  He was also an object of jealousy, as the first Senator to openly engage in business as head of his trading enterprise, since Senators were restricted by tradition to farming enterprises only. Not that they observed this rule; they set up latifundia factory farms growing a single crop employing thousands of slaves, businesses in everything but name, or set up shadow companies, run by their freedmen, to skirt the tradition against earning money in the trades. They got the profits, the freedmen took the risks. Aulus had had the courage to break with that tradition.

  Aulus was also not the same man who had left Rome three years ago. Three times, twice at the hands of Hasdrubal and once at the hands of Emperor He, he had faced what he knew to be certain death. Twice, at Tongchuan and at Aria with Hasdrubal’s thugs, he had fought in deadly combat, killing his opponents. He had lost fifty pounds, and while not as thin as Gaius nor as burly as Antonius, three years on the road had hardened him into a very physically fit fifty year old, a match against people half his age. He missed the life he had lived the past three years, constantly on the edge while traveling, and despised the cheap political theatrics to which he was returning. His political enemies were a nuisance, not a t
hreat.

  Back in Rome, Aulus had a most welcome reunion with Livia in their home on the Aventine Hill, and a first meeting with his son. He played rolling carts with young Pontus Servilius until the lad was ready for his afternoon nap. The lad seemed to hit it off with the new stranger in his young life that they called ‘Papa.’ Aulus then retired with Livia for their own nap, a long-overdue passionate welcome home.

  Afterwards, as they lay side by side, watching the shadows of the trees sway across their ceiling with the wind in the afternoon heat, Aulus decided he must bring Livia into the seriousness of the situation.

  “Love, there may be trouble in the Senate. I could go from stupendously wealthy after this trip to not much of anything. And if my enemies have their way, I may not be a Senator.”

  Livia turned to him and put her cheek against his, her arm across his chest. “You’ll still have me, carus. As we said when married, ‘Ubi gaius es, et tua gaia’ You are my man, and I am your girl. We’ll get by.”

  “We may even lose this house.”

  “Didn’t you live in tents for years? We can do that.”

  “You have no idea what living in a yurt is like! But thanks. Worse comes to worst, maybe we can go back to Bactria. It’s a beautiful country, lovely mountains, and King Vima might find a use for me. Or we could go up to Aquileia and help Antonius with his academy.”

  “That’s a beautiful city… as long as I have you.” She rolled over and kissed him warmly and wetly, to indicate that her abstinence of the past three years was far from sated.

  The next day Aulus met with Titus Flavius Petronius, his most trusted colleague in the Senate, and recounted the events in the Hanaean court. His old friend shook his head. “No matter how you pitch it, you put the life of an insignificant person above the mission. It may have been noble, but it was also stupid, and cost you the meeting with their Emperor. And that, your enemies will argue, is what they paid for. You didn’t deliver, and they want their money back. They also think that you may have put your financial interests above Rome’s, since you did make a huge amount of money. Sorry, Aulus Aemilius, but this is going to be hard to sell.”

 

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