Sextus was close enough by then to see the single sail, while the other ship was a galley under full strain, easily outpacing its charge. He was surprised to see the galley turn away and head straight for him, as if its captain thought he had a chance against six. Sextus had expected to chase them up the west coast for thirty miles or so before he could board them.
Vedius appeared at his shoulder.
‘He wants a quick end, maybe,’ he said.
Sextus nodded, unconvinced. The actions of the galley captain made no sense at all and he could see the oars dipping and rising like sun-whitened wings as they pushed on towards him.
‘Put up flags “one” and “two” and “attack”, with the “minor” signal,’ he said.
He loved the legion systems and he had mastered them quickly, delighting in the complex orders he could give. Two of his galleys would chase down the merchant while he dealt with this stranger who thought he could race right down his throat. Sextus watched as two of his group veered off, keeping the same speed, as he called for his remaining four ships to ease back to half.
Still the enemy galley came on, unafraid.
‘If we hit him from both sides, he’ll go down, quick as spitting,’ Vedius said, leering at the incoming vessel.
‘There are easier ways to commit suicide,’ Sextus said, shaking his head. ‘He’s risked it all to reach us. We have the numbers to take him easily, no matter what he does now.’
The galley coming at them was far from shore and the rowers would be tiring. Even if they turned and ran at their best pace, Sextus knew he could catch and ram them before the galley reached the coast. In the distance, he could see his pair of ships overhauling the hapless trader. Its sails were coming down in surrender and his men would strip the ship of anything useful before setting fires. He turned back to see the plunging oars of the single galley come up out of the water and shorten as the slaves inside pulled the gleaming lengths across themselves. Deprived of speed and over deep water, the galley bobbed like a piece of driftwood in the swell, suddenly helpless.
‘Quarter-speed!’ Sextus yelled. ‘Lavinia, go down now.’
He risked a glance back to her, but she didn’t move, holding on to the mast and staring out with her dark eyes, taking it all in. Gods, he sometimes thought the girl was a fool. She seemed to understand nothing about danger. He could not order Vedius to take her below, so he turned back, fuming. There would be words later.
His galley inched closer and closer, until he could make out the faces of men on the heaving deck. He was ready to order backed-oars at the first sign of a trick, but there were no catapults on deck and no sign of archers or spear-throwers.
‘Take me in close,’ he called to Vedius, who passed on the orders.
The vessels crept together, with the rest of his galleys forming up around them. Sextus was ready for the sudden appearance of archers as he leaned over the prow and yelled to the men waiting on the galley’s deck.
‘That ship is a fine gift!’ he shouted. ‘You have my thanks. Surrender now and we’ll kill only a few of you.’
There was no reply and he saw a team of slaves manhandling a small boat to the edge, heaving on ropes and pulleys to suspend it over the deck and then pushing it out so that it could be lowered into the water. Two men climbed down the side of the galley past the dripping oar-blades, then took up smaller oars in the boat and began rowing over to him. Sextus raised his eyebrows as he looked back at Vedius.
‘This is new,’ he said, though he felt a spasm of worry. Caesar had been made consul and it was not beyond possibility that the men in the small boat were bringing orders to relieve him of his authority. Not that it would matter. He had the sealed orders and his captains had not been allowed to read the contents. As far as they were concerned, he had command and could not be relieved unless he allowed it.
Sextus called a full halt and his stomach lurched as the galley swung and bobbed in the waves. He watched as the two men rowed right up to him.
‘Who are you then?’ he said, hardly having to raise his voice.
‘Publius and Gaius Casca,’ one of the men replied. He was gasping, unaccustomed to the hard work of rowing through the swell. ‘Free men and Liberatores, in search of sanctuary.’
Sextus considered leaving them to drown for a moment, but at the very least they would have more current news of Rome. He heard Vedius stropping a short dagger at his back and shook his head reluctantly.
‘Bring them on board and secure that galley. I know those names. I would like to hear about the assassination from men who were there.’
In the distance, he could see the merchant ship burning. He smiled at the sight of the dark plume rising into the sky like a flag.
‘Lavinia! Go below, now!’ he snapped suddenly.
‘I want to see! And to hear what they have to say!’ she replied.
Sextus looked around him. It was not as if the two brothers were a danger.
‘Very well, this once,’ he said reluctantly. He could refuse her nothing.
Vedius smiled at her, revealing broken teeth and withered gums. She ignored him completely and his expression soured.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The sun was still warm on Agrippa’s back, though the seasons had begun to turn and every tree had taken on rich hues of red and gold. He stood on the edge of Lake Avernus, looking out over half a mile of deep water. Where once the lake had supported only a small village on the shore, it had now become an outpost of Rome, with tens of thousands of men working hard from dawn to dusk. On one edge, twelve galley hulls were under construction in immense cradles. Even from the far side, he could see men swarming over the beams and the sound of hammering carried to him in the still air. Three completed ships surged across the surface of the lake, darting around each other as they trained.
‘All right, I am impressed,’ Maecenas said at his shoulder. ‘You’ve done wonders in just a few months. But I can see one small problem with your plans, Agrippa.’
‘There is no problem. Octavian gave me two legions and every carpenter and shipbuilder left in Italy. Two days ago, I signed an order to strip the woodland from a senator’s estate and the man did not even dare object. I can build the ships, Maecenas.’
Maecenas stared across the lake, watching as the galleys lunged and feinted at each other.
‘I don’t doubt it, my friend, though even a few dozen galleys won’t be enough to take on the fleet. However …’
‘With forty galleys, I will take him on,’ Agrippa interrupted. ‘I’ve been on these ships for years, Maecenas! I know every inch of them and I can improve them. Walk to the new ones with me. I’ve had an idea for a weapon that will surprise Sextus Pompey.’
The two men began to walk along the lake’s edge. Maecenas could hear the shouted orders to the rowers on the glassy surface. His friend had taken the idea of unlimited funds to heart, so much so that Octavian had sent Maecenas south to see what was costing so many millions each month. From what Maecenas could see, that sum would only increase.
‘I have spotted a flaw in your plan, Agrippa,’ he said, grinning to himself. ‘You have your secret fleet and I can see you are training legionaries to use them. Yet there will be a small difficulty when it comes time to take them out to sea.’
Agrippa glowered at him. ‘I am not an idiot, Maecenas. I know the lake has no access to the coast.’
‘Some men would consider that a problem for an ocean fleet,’ Maecenas observed.
‘Yes, I can see it amuses you. But the coast is only a mile away and I chose this lake carefully. I have unlimited numbers of labourers. They will build me a canal to the sea and we will float the ships out.’
Maecenas looked at him in amazement.
‘You think it can be done?’
‘Why not? The Egyptians built pyramids with thousands of slaves. I have surveyors out preparing the route. One mile, Maecenas! That is not too far for men who have laid a thousand miles of road.’
The noi
se of hammering grew as they approached the construction site. Men carrying bags of tools trotted everywhere, pouring with sweat as they worked in the sun. Maecenas whistled softly as he looked up at the closest galley. He had never realised how big they were before. Eleven more in various stages of completion stretched into the distance. He reached up to the oak beams that held the main length of a galley keel. The air smelled of fresh-cut wood and he could see hundreds of carpenters on the ladders and platforms that allowed them to reach any part of the ship’s structure. As he watched, a team of eight men held a beam in place, the ends slotting together so that one of their number could use a hammer to knock in a massive wooden peg as wide as his arm.
‘What are you paying the men?’ he asked.
Agrippa snorted. ‘Twice what they could earn anywhere else. The master carpenters are on three times their usual wage. Octavian told me I had a free hand and the most important thing was speed. That does not come cheaply. I can build his fleet, but the costs are high if he wants them quickly.’
Maecenas looked at his friend, seeing the weariness but also the pride. Agrippa had wood shavings in his hair and his cheek was white with sawdust, but his eyes gleamed and he was sun-browned and healthy.
‘You are enjoying the work,’ Maecenas said, smiling.
Before Agrippa could reply, they both heard a carriage approach, rattling down the road that led the ten miles to Neapolis.
‘Who’s that?’ Agrippa said suspiciously.
‘Just a friend. He wanted to see the ships.’
‘Maecenas! How can I keep this site secret if you invite your friends to see what I’m doing? How did he even get past the guards on the road?’
Maecenas flushed slightly.
‘I gave him a pass. Look, Virgil is a poet and he knows how to keep secrets. I just thought he could write a few verses about this place.’
‘You think I have time for poets? Will you be bringing painters and sculptors out here? This is a secret fleet, Maecenas! Send him back. He’s already seen too much just by being here. I see he has a driver. Well, I’m keeping him now. I’ll put him on the payroll with the others, but no one leaves until spring.’
‘I’ll take Virgil back myself then,’ Maecenas replied.
They both watched the poet step down, staring around him at the massive structures. There was dust in the air and Virgil sneezed explosively, wiping his nose with a square of expensive silk.
‘Over here,’ Maecenas called to him. His friend saw the two men and waved briefly, walking towards them. ‘Look,’ Maecenas murmured to Agrippa. ‘He really is good, and Octavian likes him. He’s already famous in the cities. It will not hurt to be pleasant to such a man. He’ll make you immortal.’
‘I don’t want to be immortal,’ Agrippa snapped. ‘I want to get this fleet built before Sextus Pompey starves the country to death.’
The man who approached was portly and short, his face framed in black curls. As he came close, he sneezed again and moaned softly to himself.
‘I swear, Maecenas, I thought the air here would be good for me, but the dust is very unpleasant. You must be Agrippa, the genius shipbuilder. I … am Virgil.’ He paused, visibly disappointed when Agrippa just stared blankly at him. ‘Ah. I see my small fame does not precede me out here. Never mind. Maecenas has told me you have some sort of new design for the galleys?’
‘Maecenas!’ Agrippa said in disbelief. ‘How many more have you told? At this rate I’ll have Pompey’s fleet waiting for me when I come out.’
Maecenas looked embarrassed, but he held up his hands.
‘I told him a few details to catch his interest, that’s all. Virgil understands not to say a single word to anyone else, don’t you?’
‘Of course,’ Virgil replied immediately. ‘Poets know many secrets. In any case, I suspect I am not long for this world. I grow weaker every day.’
He blew his nose with great energy and Agrippa looked irritably at him.
‘Well, I’m keeping your driver,’ he said curtly. ‘Maecenas will take the horse team back to the city with you.’
Virgil blinked. ‘He’s exactly as you said, Maecenas. Stern and Roman, but built like a young Hercules. I like him.’ He turned to Agrippa. ‘So, given that I have already seen your fleet in the making, will I be trusted with a tour?’
‘No,’ Agrippa replied, barely holding his temper in check. ‘I am busy.’
‘Caesar said I should look over the detailed plans, Agrippa,’ Maecenas said. ‘I choose to have Virgil with me to make notes. You have my word he is trustworthy.’
Agrippa raised his eyes in frustration and guided Maecenas a dozen paces further off, too far for Virgil to overhear.
‘He does not strike me as a … manly sort, Maecenas. I have heard those kinds of men cannot be trusted. They gossip like women.’
‘What men do you mean?’ Maecenas asked innocently.
Agrippa blushed, looking away.
‘You know what I mean. At least tell me he is, you know …’ his throat seemed to choke him as he forced the words out, ‘… a giver, not a taker.’
‘You’ve lost me now,’ Maecenas said, though his eyes gleamed with amusement. Agrippa would not look at him.
‘A sword, not a scabbard! Gods, I don’t know how you say such things. You know what I mean!’
‘Yes, I do,’ Maecenas replied, laughing. ‘I just wanted to see how you would phrase it. Virgil! My friend here wants to know if you are a sword or a scabbard?’
‘What? Oh, a sword, definitely. Good Roman steel, me.’
Agrippa groaned. He glowered at both of them for a long moment, but he was proud of what he had created by the lake and part of him wanted to show them.
‘Walk with me then,’ he said.
He stalked off immediately and Virgil shared a grin with Maecenas as they followed him. Agrippa reached a ladder and climbed up it, stepping from platform to platform with the ease of practice. Maecenas and Virgil came after him at slower speed, until they were looking down on an unfinished deck. Parts of it were still bare of planking, so that they could see right down to the rowing benches below.
‘I tried four corvus bridges rather than the usual one at first. The result is at the bottom of the lake – it made the galleys top-heavy. I’ll still adapt a few, as it allows me to pour men on board an enemy ship, but if the waters are choppy, they’re just not stable enough. I still have to find a way to make the numbers tell.’ He glanced at Maecenas for understanding, but his noble friend just looked bewildered.
‘The rowers will not be slaves, not on these ships. Each one will be a swordsman, chosen by competition from Octavian’s legions. I’m offering twice the normal pay to anyone who can win his place. In terms of fighting men, we should outnumber any of Sextus Pompey’s crews by three to one at least.’
‘That is an edge,’ Maecenas admitted. ‘But Pompey has two hundred galleys at his command. You’ll need something more than that.’
‘I do have more than that,’ Agrippa said sourly, looking at Virgil. ‘If I show you this, I want your oath you will die before speaking of it to anyone. It’s been hard enough keeping my workers from vanishing back to the city and spilling details to every listening ear.’
‘Once more, you have my word, on my honour,’ Maecenas said. Virgil repeated the words seriously.
Agrippa nodded and whistled to one of the men working on the deck.
‘Bring the catapult up,’ he called.
‘Catapults are nothing new,’ Virgil said a little nervously. ‘All the fleet galleys have them.’
‘To shoot stones, which miss more often than they hit,’ Agrippa growled. ‘Accuracy was the problem, so I worked around it. They have nothing like this.’
Under the orders of the carpenter Agrippa had called, six more men brought up spars and ropes from below. As Maecenas and Virgil watched, they began to assemble a machine on the deck, hammering a circular platform into holes in the oak planks, so that it would be steady even in a storm.
Onto that, they slotted cast bronze balls with pegs of the metal that fitted into slots cut for them. When another wooden circle was attached, they had a platform six feet across that could rotate easily, even under weight. The rest of the catapult was built on that foundation with the speed of long practice.
‘I see a grapnel there …’ Maecenas began.
‘Just watch,’ Agrippa said.
The catapult was wound back against bending iron spars, a miniature version of the scorpion bows legions used. Yet there was no cup to hold a heavy stone. A huge iron grapnel with four bent spikes was slotted into place and tied to a mound of coiled rope. The men below looked up for his signal and Agrippa dropped his hand. All three of them jerked as the weapon leapt and the grapnel shot into the air, trailing a snake of rope with a whirring sound. It soared up for a hundred paces before dipping down and striking the soft earth below.
Agrippa looked pleased as he turned to the two men.
‘A stone can miss or skip over the deck and drop into the sea. The grapnels will fly right over the enemy ships and catch on the wood. They’ll try to cut the ropes, of course, but I have copper wire laced into the cords. There will be three of these on each deck and when they fly, the men will drag the galleys quickly together. The corvus bridges will go down and we’ll be on board before they can organise a defence.’
Maecenas and Virgil were nodding, but they did not seem impressed.
‘You’ll see,’ Agrippa said. ‘The ships on the lake have the new weapons fitted already. I was going to test them today before you arrived to waste my morning.’
He turned and yelled an order over the lake to the nearest galley as it practised fast manoeuvres. His voice carried easily and the captain acknowledged with a raised hand. The rowers backed oars, bringing the galley into range of the one pursuing it. Maecenas and Virgil both turned in time to see three ropes and grapnels soar out from the deck, right over the other galley, so that they stuck fast and held. Teams of legionaries took hold of spars on a capstan, reeling the ropes back like a fishing line as they shoved against footholds on the wooden deck.
Emperor: The Blood of Gods (Special Edition) (Emperor Series, Book 5) Page 24