The Galley

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by Paul Howard


  “We are not seriously thinking of taking on the whole fleet?” he exclaimed. “This is madness!”

  “These are mad times, my friend,” I replied, “How could we slow them down and keep them out of ballister range?”

  “With fire mines,” the Greek answered, “Tiny boats loaded with the same explosive and packed with Greek fire. When they strike the enemy’s hull they explode and cover him with sticky fire. When they hit one of those, they’ll stop. When the others see what this does they will have to slow their approach to avoid the same fate.”

  “Even if it slows them down,” the Nubian protested, “It still will not be enough time!”

  “The surface torpedoes will give us even more time!” replied the Greek.

  “The little boats I saw?” I asked.

  “Precisely,” said he, “These are motorized and can be set for whatever course we choose. They have the same charges as the mines.”

  “How long will they run?” I asked.

  “We tested them under a full water load,” 17 said, “They run for eight minutes after they are launched.”

  “Can they be safely launched from a ship at sea?” asked Calpurnia.

  “Yes, they can,” replied the Greek, “Then…there is the apparatus.”

  “The incineration device?” I asked. He nodded.

  “If we can introduce it in the midst of them, we can destroy multiple ships in a single blow,” he answered, “The real challenge is getting far enough away before it goes off, which means we have to get the enemy to detonate it for us. I have an idea for that.”

  With those words the beach became silent. I looked at the faces of the men all around me, trying to guess what they were thinking. It was not long before I found out. The old shipwright was the first to speak. He had a look on his face like he had just seen a miracle.

  “It just might be possible,” he said, “With good tactics and a little help from the gods, we might be able to do it!”

  “A little help?” exclaimed the Nubian.

  “Sure,” declared 115 Primus, “Why not! We have weapons like nothing they have ever seen before. I have seen the sticky fire in action. It can destroy a ship in minutes!”

  “But sixteen against one?” asked 36 Secundus.

  “It is still long odds,” I added, “How could we repel boarders?”

  “Leave them to me,” said 127, “My forty archers are a match for any marines.”

  “From two directions at once?” I asked.

  “Certainly!” he replied. “Why do you think I designed the stepped roof on the castle? So we can shoot in all directions. Continuously, if necessary.” All eyes turned upon me once more. I drew a long sigh.

  “This matter should not be decided in haste,” I said at last, “We should think about this carefully.”

  “Well, do not think about it too long,” warned the Briton, “It is already mid-October. The fleet will be forced by the weather to withdraw from Gibraltar by late November.”

  “In the meantime,” I said, “We will resume our duties as usual. Return to your posts, everyone.”

  The Nubian quickly began barking orders and the men dispersed at once. I walked most of the way back toward the Stinker with the Greek and we discussed our options further. In the course of our conversation I learned that there were three hundred of the little floating mines and twenty-five of the torpedoes. I also learned that he was just as uncertain of the idea of taking on the fleet as I was. It was one thing to believe that the Septimus fleet must die. Making it actually happen was another matter altogether.

  I do not know what my decision would have been. As it turned out, circumstances would end up making it for me.

  23

  THE GUESTS

  That afternoon I decided to conduct a more complete inspection of Antonia than I had made since we reached the island. Not so much because I did not understand the state of the ship’s improvements as just to help me visualize my thoughts on how practical the ideas being considered actually would be. I found myself feeling impressed with her as I had always been. The feel of her decks below me, even in dry-dock, was marvelous. The thing that impressed me most was the new bridge and I could not wait to see how effective it would be once we put to sea.

  Soon, I went below to inspect the gallery and the new cabins. I did not get far before I noticed a very unpleasant odor in the gallery. I went in to investigate it and the scent lead me to a horrible sight. It was Gracchus. He had been tied, spread-eagled, across two benches and had been kept there since his capture. My prediction about him being relieved upon by the men had proved all too true and he was covered in filth. The round eye had been battered such that it was blackened and swollen nearly closed. He was a ghastly sight. Even though he was a pig and I had no liking for him the spectacle of him in this state made me feel a sense of guilt that I had not thought of him before that time. I actually felt pity for him. I stepped down and drew my knife. His mouth opened in fear. I realized that he thought I had come to kill him.

  I placed the blade at the rope holding his right leg and cut it. He looked at me surprised. I proceeded to cut him free, fully expecting him to attack and prepared for it. He was in no shape to offer any resistance whatsoever. I had to help him sit up which caused him a great deal of pain. His breathing was labored and I realized that he had been tied in that position for so long that he had become ill from not moving. I dipped a cup from the water bucket and gave it to him. He could not hold the cup and I had to help him drink. He looked at me finally through that nearly closed eye and struggled to speak.

  “I thought this was my end.” he said.

  “You are welcome.” I replied sarcastically.

  “Why have you come, then?” he asked. “Why did you cut me loose?”

  “I did not come to see you,” I answered, “You are not being set free!” I struggled for an explanation, not wanting to tell him that I felt sorry for him. “We need the gallery secured for sea duty,” I offered, “You are in the way here.” He did not buy it.

  “Pity?” he declared. “You did this out of pity? I do not want your stinking pity!” He attempted to spit with disgust but nothing came out.

  “Do not flatter yourself,” I snapped back at him, “We need the gallery and you stink! We have to get you cleaned up and move you out of here, that is all.” I put on the right face and that made him believe it.

  “Why did she spare my life?” he asked me. A good question. Personally, I would have let the men have him to do as they wanted but giving the decision to Sarah was the right move under the circumstances. I did not understand her decision at first and I had asked her about it.

  “I could not sentence a gentile to death for that,” she replied, “Had he been a Jew, he would have died. If I had been a man he would have died. But our law does not permit a woman to sentence him to death.” When I reminded her that we would have carried it out her reply was only: “It is not allowed.”

  Such was the conviction of her faith. I did not understand it but the choice was hers and I respected her for it. I did not feel that Gracchus was entitled to an explanation at all. I pitied him but I still did not like him.

  “You may regret that she did save you before this is over.” I said. I helped him to his feet and led him up the stairs. When we emerged into the sunlight he cowered in the brightness. There were several men nearby and I could see the disapproval in their faces when they saw what I was doing. This irritated me. “Get some water and a clean tunic,” I ordered, “And tell the blacksmith to report to me at once!” They acknowledged the order and sped off to comply.

  I lead Gracchus amidships and sat him before the mainmast. Soon the clothes and water came with a little food. The blacksmith followed close behind. I instructed him to chain Gracchus to the mast and rig a lean-to as a shelter. I ordered that he would be allowed to walk under close guard for a brief period every day but also made sure it was understood that he was to be killed if he showed any disobedience or mad
e any attempt to escape. I made sure he understood it as well.

  “Why are you doing this?” he finally asked.

  “I do not like you Gracchus but you may still prove useful,” I answered, “Provided, of course, that you have the good sense to stay alive.”

  I turned away from him to leave. “Thank you!” he shouted. I turned back to him for a moment. “…Captain!” he added. One of the men kicked him.

  “None of that!” I snapped. They looked at me surprised. I smiled at them. “You do not want to be like him! Do you?” I asked. They smiled in agreement and I left them.

  When I returned to my former bench-mate his only comment was “I see our former tormentor has returned to the living!” I offered no reply and I knew he did not expect one. He always knew what I was thinking anyway.

  I have not said much about the natives of the island because they were few and we decided to avoid them and leave well enough alone. Nevertheless, I was surprised that they had made no effort to speak to us. No doubt they were as curious about us as they were frightened of us. We would see them on the dunes watching us or encounter them as we went about the island. But they avoided us and would not come close to any of our party. In fact, once the explosions at the Stinker began we hardly saw them at all.

  But they were there. We were quite certain of that and I was sure it would only be a matter of time before they either made their presence known or tried to do something about us. That moment finally came on the following day.

  It was a beautiful morning in mid-autumn and these islands, many of which are known throughout the Empire as summer resorts, lived up to their reputations for blue skies, clear seas and fresh air. I was taking a walk on the beach with Calpurnia. We were both barefoot and the warm sand between my toes felt good. We had just sat down and embraced when the moment of romance was quickly interrupted by a cry from above.

  “Ship approaching!”

  Everything stopped as all eyes turned to the sails against the southern horizon. They were definitely headed toward us and it took several anxious minutes to determine the shape of them. Finally, 88 Primus was the first to correctly identify them as Greek. A split lateen design that was popular among small commercial vessels. But they flew a flag I could not recognize. I immediately dispatched a messenger to the Stinker to stop all work and send the Greek to me at once.

  They would be within reach of our shore in just over an hour or so and my comrades and I decided that we should make the best showing of a Roman party as we could. All men were to attire themselves in Roman uniforms with swords and lances. The others who had no such clothes were to get on the ship and stay there.

  53 quickly ordered that a command tent be set up and equipped in naval fashion as were several others. We were going to put on a show for our guests. Carpets were laid, shields were mounted on lances. The traditional hides and Aquila of legion were set up, as we had made no such offerings among ourselves. Wine was set out and guards posted at the ship as well as the entrances to the inlet. Within thirty minutes all the trappings of a naval camp had been put in place. Number 17 joined me and I asked him to stay close at my side. He placed the garland of an honored Greek slave on his brow and it looked very convincing on him. He looked truly noble.

  He squinted at the flag that had puzzled us and nodded his head in recognition.

  “Community Elders,” he said, “I do not know where they are from. There are hundreds of different insignia like that all over Greece. But they are definitely Elders. My guess would be from a nearby island.”

  “Which one?” I asked.

  “The closest island to the south is Amorgos,” he replied, “They probably come from there. You will have to prepare for an exchange of gifts.”

  “What would be appropriate?” I asked. The Greek shook his head. He had no more experience at this than I did. The Nubian went to the ship without saying anything. He returned a few minutes later with a jar of very fine unguent.

  “This should do,” he said, “It is not only appropriate but it is also expensive. Bribery is usually a nice way to start a conversation.”

  “I was thinking of a fine sword.” I suggested.

  “Not for civilians,” he replied, “A sword would seem too munificent. These are only minor officials.”

  If I had ever doubted his noble background, this suggestion would have dispelled any question of it. He was skilled in the art of state-craft.

  Although only twenty minutes more would pass before the ship pulled within range of the inlet and lowered anchor, the wait seemed like hours. As they began to lower a boat I went into the tent, unrolled some maps on the table and poured myself some wine. The Nubian clad himself in leopard skins and took his place next to my chair. He bade me to set myself in it and remain there like a lord.

  “I feel such a fraud,” I declared under my breath, “What if they do not believe I am the Captain?”

  “They will believe it because you are the Captain,” he said dryly, “Whether you realize it or not, you are no longer the young man who took this ship all those weeks ago.”

  “Is that all it has been?” I thought aloud. “It seems much longer than that.”

  He leaned close and winked his eye. “It is longer than that!” he said. It seemed like we had been on that island for months.

  “Any thoughts on why they have come?” I asked.

  “Maybe the minstrels on Naxos are already singing!” he mused.

  The idea shook me a little, as if the walls were closing around us. I moved to the tent door and peaked out of the flap. The boat had made shore and the guests got out. They took only a few steps before the lances were crossed in front of them. They stopped and bowed. One of them spoke but I could not hear what was said. Even at a distance, it was obvious they were men of some prominence. Two of them had very long beards. The oldest of them had one that was gray and carefully braided. A few moments later one of the guards ran to my tent.

  I moved back to my seat and took up my place. The performance was on. The Greek moved beside the table and smiled at me softly. The guard came in. It was 36 Secundus.

  “It is a deputation from Amorgos, Captain!” he said.

  “They are watching!” snapped 53. “Salute!”

  36 Secundus nodded and gave me a salute. “Do not forget to grip the hilt of your sword when you go!” 53 reminded him. “Keep up appearances!”

  “Yes, sir,” replied 36 Secundus, “They send their compliments and seek an audience with the Captain.”

  “Fetch stools for them,” I said, “Tell them I am very busy but I will see them now!” 36 Secundus slapped the hilt of his sword and withdrew.

  “Stay as close to the truth as you can without giving away who we are,” 53 suggested, “It is simpler that way. Our mission is a secret. Our ship has Imperial orders so we do not have to tell them much. They will not expect us to. Let them do most of the talking.”

  I nodded in agreement. A few moments later the flap was raised and our guests were gestured to move in.

  “Three representatives from the island of Amorgos,” said 36 Secundus, “Marcus Urbano, commander of the Imperial Warship Antonia.” The Greek rapped the klaxon staff on the ground, nearly startling me, because I had forgotten that by posing as a Roman Captain, I was also assuming magisterial authority. The only way I could receive a deputation was officially. Thank the gods at least one of us knew the right protocol.

  I rose from my chair as they approached and folded my arms behind my back. 53 looked at them sternly. The effect worked. The Gray bearded man broke the silence.

  “I bring you greetings from the people of Amorgos, Captain,” he said, “My name is Mikonalas, and these are my lieutenants, Patos and Simonades.”

  They bowed their heads in greeting and I returned the gesture. No sooner had I done so when the seats I had ordered were brought in. I gestured for them to sit. “On behalf of Rome, I welcome you.” I said and returned to my seat. They sat down as well.

  “I apo
logize for my senior officers not joining us for this meeting but they are involved in important duties from which they cannot be spared.”

  “We quite understand, Captain,” said Mikonalas, “Please allow us to offer a humble gift in token.” Simonades handed him a large bottle and he stood to offer it to me.

  “It is a wine that is produced on Amorgos,” he continued, “It is called Ouzo.” I rose to my feet to accept it.

  “I thank you,” I replied, “I have tasted this wine in Rome and it is very fine.” I snapped my fingers and 53 offered me the jar. “As a token of the Emperor’s esteem, I offer a gift in return.” I took the jar and offered it to Mikonalas. It had the effect that 53 predicted. Their eyes widened in surprise and the elder took it slowly with a look of pleasant surprise and a little embarrassment.

  “A magnificent gift, Captain,” he gasped, “I am at a loss for words. And such quality! I am ashamed to offer only wine…”

  “Not at all,” I answered, “Rome appreciates your hospitality and the wine. May I offer you some of ours?”

  We sat back down. “We would be honored.” he said. I gestured to 17 and he brought a tray and goblets. He began to pour the wine.

  “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?” I asked. The visitors tasted the wine and smiled in approval.

  “An excellent wine.” Mikonalas exclaimed.

  “Now the reason for our visit. The story has spread throughout the local islands that your ship had landed here some weeks ago. There have also been stories of military operations and strange explosions. We have not received any notice from Rome concerning naval actions in our area and, well, the people are concerned.”

  “Naturally,” I said calmly, “I am sure a warship like ours is bound make people nervous. But I can assure you that no military or naval action is at hand. We put on this island to institute repairs to our ship after being attacked by pirates. Although we subdued the attack the ship suffered severe damage below the waterline and could not make it to dry-dock. We also had extensive fire damage as well. This required us to construct a forge and smelting operations.”

 

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