The Fourth Nail: An Historical Novel

by Paul Argentini

  They turned to find seven men filing in behind them and encircling them.

  The leader pointed to the neck cloth.

  Marius lifted the bandanna to show the leather collar. He pointed to it, and then to Angelus, and knelt before him. “For god’s sakes, Angelus, act like an emperor, will you? I’m trying to tell him I’m your slave!”

  Angelus snapped his fingers, waved his hand up, and said, “On your feet!” Then, he waved his hand as if he were having a sword fight, then pointed to Marius. He lifted both his arms in the air in the classic strong man pose showing off his biceps.

  The leader slowly nodded his head up and down in understanding. He turned his attention back to Marius. He indicated Marius should show him what was under the leather.

  Marius exposed the gold bracelet.

  The leader stared at it. He gave orders to one of the men who left quickly and returned with a short Roman sword and a shield. The leader pointed to them, and then put his finger almost touching the bridge of Marius’s nose.

  What’s going on?” Angelus asked.

  “My guess is he knows my gold bracelet is Roman. He believes you are my master, that I am a gladiator that earns gold for you,” Marius said. “Unless I’m wrong, he wants me to fight for him.”

  The leader spoke to one of his men intensely and for a short while. The man left.

  He indicated Marius was to sit and eat with the guards. The leader beckoned for Angelus, as a personage of high ranking, to follow him to a corner of the tent. There he pointed to one of several women. One exposed her body and lay down among a nest of pillows beckoning him. The leader waved his hand and smiled. Even before he had turned away, Angelus, grinning triumphantly, had stripped himself nude, prepared for the encounter.

  The sun was high in the sky when another chief with his entourage entered the tent. He presented himself to the young chief who greeted him warmly and for a long time. The circle was made larger, and soon there was a lengthy animated discussion involving all the men. There was a lot of pointing at Marius. Angelus was asked to join the discussion.

  “I get the feeling,” Angelus said, “that they are arranging a match between you, the Roman gladiator, and the new guy’s Lion of Death.”

  “Thanks!” Marius said.

  “’Our’ leader, if I can call him that,” Angelus said, “seems to feel you can do it. He doesn’t look like a fool, and I think he just laid down a pretty heavy bet.”

  “Also,” Marius said, “you will share in the winnings. My gold bracelet is part of the bet.”

  “No! Your freedom in Rome depends on that bracelet! Eh?”

  “My dear friend,” Marius started, “if I don’t win, the bracelet will be of little use to me.”

  When they were directed outside a short time later they found hobbled camels, seated men, lances flying pennants stuck in the ground, which formed an arena of sorts. A table to one side held the young leader’s bet, gold, jewelry, jade, an assortment of precious stones. The visiting leader covered the bet by laying down valuables until they both agreed they were the same within negligible limits.

  “Look! I’m sorry I got us into this, Marius,” Angelus said, “Let’s just walk away from this now!”

  Marius looked around for his opponent. “You’re right, Angelus; I don’t have to fight, but if I didn’t, I could carry you away in a goatskin bag.”

  Marius took up his sword and shield.

  Then, the visiting leader shouted. What looked like a small tent at the other side of the arena shook and stood up. The warrior dropped his headgear and cloak. He stood six inches taller than Marius. His arms were fatter than a camel’s neck. The inside of his legs touched all the way down to his knees. Black, wide leather straps crossed his chest. Short leather straps hung from a belt to form a short skirt. He wore small metal shields on each forearm.

  He picked up his weapon. It was a double-handled, wide, crescent-shaped sword. He took a step into the arena, raised the sword above his head, and gave it a mighty swing to make it whistle as it sliced through the air.

  Marius stood up, his shield before him. Boldly he marched to the center of the arena, and waited and watched as his opponent stomped and labored to get to him. When he was only a short distance away, Marius raised his sword to imitate the giant’s swinging motion. The sword flew from his hand and stuck in the ground before him. It was deliberate, but Marius made it look as if he was clumsy. Roars of laughter came from the spectators. Marius retrieved his sword. He beckoned his opponent to come and fight. The giant grunted as he moved toward him. Gauging the distance so he would not be cut off, Marius started walking around the perimeter. He stopped near where the giant had sat.

  His opponent shuffled toward him a bit as he circled around, and was now two-thirds of the way across the arena. Marius beckoned him to come fight. The giant roared in frustration, and tried to run towards his opponent. He made no more than five steps when he stopped, winded, leaning on his sword. Marius stepped toward him smartly. The giant watched him through half-closed lids, drooling as he sucked air and blew it out. Close to him, Marius suddenly sprinted up to him, and swung the sword several times in succession. Surprised, the giant moved quickly and caught the blows on his forearm shields. His opponent was becoming educated in the close-combat advantage of the short Roman sword. Marius slipped off to the right and let his sword arm rest a bit. He circled clockwise behind the giant. He spotted two weaknesses in the giant. He took shorter, plodding steps with his right foot, and was limited in how far he could turn his head to the right. He waited until the giant turned flush to him then made a step to move in. The giant hoisted the blade to an on-guard position. Marius saw that he tightened his left hand first around the handle using it as a pivot to allow the right hand to lift the weapon. Marius knew his job now was not to stand as a shaft of wheat and allow the blade to mow him down. The giant had the advantage in that he had only to move his wrists a few degrees to have the point of the blade scribe an arc many feet in length. The chore was to make him commit to a swing at open air because if the blade connected with him, it would be all over. To do that, Marius mustered every technique he had for feinting and following through.

  Marius realized the giant was revered because he had won a good number of contests. As he himself had his techniques and tricks, so must the giant. He must have met bigger and swifter contestants than he, yet he won. How? If he could discover the answer to that question he could raise the odds in his favor. It took a while. The giant feinted, stopped, then in a flash arced the sword to cut into the top of Marius’s shield. It required both of them to struggle to free one from the other. The giant’s breath, filled with the stench of rotting meat, caused Marius to gag. It startled the giant, looking for an opening.

  On the training field Marius learned as the head went, so did the body. He knew now how the giant anticipated his moves. Marius followed the giant’s eyes, and found he focused on his chin! Marius raised his shield a bit to hide it, and found he had gained a split second advantage over his opponent.

  Now he could concentrate on weakening his left hand. Marius would slip in close from the right, and deliberately whack at the shield on his left arm. When he saw the giant shaking his left arm after an attack, he knew his blows were taking their toll. Also, the giant needed extra seconds to bring the huge sword up to the ready.

  Marius was quite aware there was a limit to how long he could last, too. He spent a lot of energy deftly avoiding the blade, but the giant was able to strike out with his fists when he caught him in close quarters. He felt especially vulnerable when his shield caught the flat of the blade. A particularly heavy blow sent him to the ground. He rolled out of danger and got back on his feet.

  Marius decided the giant was close to the point where he was most vulnerable psychologically. The Roman had made him chase tail and exhausted him with unexpected quick attacks, making him swing his blade full force and miss him. The giant’s cheeks were pumping like air bags at a forge. Marius
quickly noticed the man took longer to pick up the deadly blade to get it ready.

  The time had come to close out the contest, Marius decided.

  He made the feint and got in close to slam away at first to the left and then to the right of the shield. He danced away quickly, and just as quickly made the same motion but didn’t go in. Marius stayed the right distance away to draw a blow, which missed. The exertion made the giant gasp. Marius slipped around to the right. The giant was slow in responding. Knowing it would be blocked by the shield, it allowed Marius to aim for the shoulders. He stepped back exactly the right distance. The giant was not fully prepared but swung anyway. It caught the top of Marius’s shield, this time almost cutting it down to his arm. Marius slipped his arm out of the shield leaving it captured by the blade, rendering the giant’s weapon useless. Marius came in from the right, raised the sword as if he was going to cleave the man’s shoulders, then changed direction and stabbed the giant under the ribs and up towards his heart.

  With a loud grunt, the giant’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed dead.

  The visiting leader roared in anger as the host danced with joy. The men joined in shouting and cheering. The visitors seethed in silence as they mounted their camels and prepared to leave. As the leader started off, Angelus ran after him.

  “Marius! He stole your bracelet! Marius!” Angelus took a short cut and closed in on the fleeing leader. He was about to grab the man’s leg.

  The thief turned and struck Angelus with his lance.

  By the time Marius reached Angelus, his breathing was shallow and quick. “Marius! Your bracelet! I tried!” he gasped. “You need it!”

  “It’s okay, Angelus! It’s okay,” Marius said. “We’ll make Rome together!”

  “Rome is your destiny, not mine ...” Angelus went limp.

  Angelus died in his arms. Unashamedly Marius cried. The moon had risen, and he was dry of tears before he would let Angelus go. Alone, he laid his dearest friend to rest in the sands of this strange and foreign land.

  The chief understood Marius’s desire for revenge. He provided a guide who would track down the villain.

  On camel they traveled several weeks before they found the killer’s campsite.

  At night, Marius slipped into the leader’s tent. He found him asleep. He awakened him by clamping the man’s mouth shut. Marius warned him to be quiet. Marius held out the man’s sword indicating he should defend himself. Instead, the man screamed for help. His aides rushed into the tent with drawn swords. It was apparent they recognized Marius as the gladiator who killed the giant. The chief urged his men to attack. Marius turned from the men to his enemy. Marius swung the heavy, curved sword with two hands as with a sledge trying to break the anvil. The sword caught the man between his right shoulder and neck. It cleaved him down to his left hipbone. He was sputtering but dead before the two halves hit the ground.

  Sword at the ready, Marius turned to the men, his face ablaze with fury.

  The men froze.

  Marius slit the tent and started to exit. He stopped, turned back, and bent over the slain man. He retrieved his gold bracelet from his wrist. Later he would wrap it again in leather and wear it on his ankle where it would be more hidden among his sandal straps.

  Back at the young leader’s tent, Marius communicated to him that he wanted to return to his home.

  The leader offered him two guides to take him through the desert to a known caravan trail where traders frequented it. From there he would have to find his own way.

  The next day, Marius continued his trip to Rome.

  22

  When they reached the Rome airport, Roberto and Diura decided to play arriving rather than departing passengers. This way, they could pretend they hadn’t seen each other for a long time excusing their hot encounter. They held the hot, passionate kiss while almost the entire planeload of passengers, all smiling, passed them by.

  “I cannot stand to be away from you. I’m glad you telephoned me at Lake Como,” Diura said. “I love you so much!”

  “Despite the fact that we both love each other so much, nevertheless what we’re doing here in public in this terminal is almost illegal” Roberto answered. “Our flight has been delayed. Exciting news, D-D,” Roberto said, “I can’t wait to tell you about Andreyovich Nicholovski! You may be interested to know that there is a drink in Russia called a Nicholovski, named after Andreyovich. A shot glass of vodka covered with a very thin slice of lemon on top of which is placed a half-teaspoon of sugar. The lemon is engulfed with the lips, the head thrown back, and the vodka allowed to sift through the lemon and sugar. Three of those, and embalming is an exercise in futility."

  She agreed with him that this seemed the last, best clear shot at uncovering the story of the fourth nail. “So? When do we leave?”

  They were going to meet with Andreyovich Nicholovski.

  XXIII

  It was almost two full moons before Marius found himself before the Kara-Moud-sez, the chief of the caravan. Marius paid him, and from him was pleasantly surprised to learn one of the merchants in the caravan was a former Roman soldier.

  His name was Augustus, and he was overjoyed at finding himself with Marius, a fellow Roman. He found Marius a good listener and insisted the young man share their meals together. “Imagine I would retired be with a soldier’s pension. My shield arm broken it got too many times. Now a wealthy trader I must be satisfied to be! Compared to walking this desert how comforting the sulphur baths of Rome,” he joked.

  “How do I get to Rome?” Marius asked.

  “To Rome all roads lead,” Augustus said laughing. “Stay with me if you have the time for I will returning be to my home south of Rome in six months or so. I am in partnership with my cousin. We alternate trips. For ten years I have been trading. On all the routes I have been.”

  “I know only of Rome and Jerusalem. Tell me about the places you’ve been. Tell me about all of them!” Marius implored.

  Augustus said there were three major trading routes, which he traveled. The route that was the longest, most hazardous, and taxing was the northern trail known as the Silk Route. Silk from the Far East along with precious stones, including jade and pearls, were transported by merchants to be sold in outer civilizations. Augustus went from Rome to about halfway on the trail. There, merchants were anxious to sell their wares, and return to their homes. Marius pursued every detail from the geography, climate, distances to the people, races, flora and fauna. Marius was intrigued with a religious group that served to aid travelers, but otherwise was retired from society. Once, caught in a bad storm, they rescued Augustus and his caravan. He found he could repay them with a hardy grain they could grow in the harsh climate. He made it a point to bring some to them whenever he made the trip.

  Augustus explained they were now on a caravan that was traveling what was known as the Spice Route. Almost all the merchants in the lengthy caravan were dealing in spices. Some had jewelry, ivory, with others trafficking in slaves. Part of the caravan eventually would head for Rome, but the very quickest way there was by boat. When they were closest to the coastline, Augustus would give Marius the heading. His goal would be to get to a major port where he could pick up a ship heading in the direction of Rome.

  It was late that night. What troubled his sleep was not a disturbance, Marius knew. He blinked himself awake. He could hear the low drone snore from Augustus lying on the other side of the camel saddles. Then, Marius caught the odor on a wisp of a breeze. It was the rancid stink of stale, raunchy sweat from a long-unwashed body, the usual for a desert society.

  Peering through eyelid slits, Marius caught the silhouette of a turban and loose cape of a man hunched down and sneaking towards Augustus. He moved slowly, stalking.

  Raising his head slightly, Marius saw there was a second man crouched beside the first, sword in hand.

  Marius grasped the handle of his Roman sword lying next to him and used the blade to push himself up and roll onto the
saddles. He fell on his back, pushed himself off again, and landed on his feet between Augustus and the intruders.

  “Huzzah!” Marius shouted as he went after the one with the sword, slashing at him.

  In the poor light, Marius saw his dagger had sliced the man’s face from one cheek through his nose over to the other cheek to the man’s ear. He cried out in pain as blood gouts spurted from the wound.

  Augustus sat up and swung his walking staff at the second man. As Marius charged the man, he looked into his terror-filled eyes. The man threw up his arms as if pleading for mercy, then turned and ran after his companion.

  Marius turned to Augustus. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes!” Augustus shouted. “Pursue them not. Their brothers will protect them if you do. The caravan master will clear them off before morning. Better than any soldiers I’ve seen fight you are a better swordsman. Marius, my life you saved. I am indebted.”

  “Does this happen often? That thieves would come to harm you and steal camels and goods?”

  “No, not often. This is a case of ‘What the eyes not see, desire in the heart arises not.’ Watched I was, it had to be and reported I travel with many extra large pearls. My cousin on the Silk Trail bartered them for me. I have a client for them where the sand is the highest and hottest. Covetous hands and eyes are everywhere.”

  “When I must leave you, what will you do for your protection?”