by Paul Howard
After evening meal the crew mustered and a brief ceremony was performed for our New Members. Primus and I poured the wine and the cup was passed to all members of the crew. Calpurnia and Sarah were handed the cup at last and they took a deep draught to the dregs. Applause greeted our new sisters and the company was informed of her new rank. This was met with great approval by all.
Calpurnia and Sarah were invited below and a celebration was held by the crew in their honor. I retired to my rounds and left the celebrants to enjoy themselves. An hour later I returned to my cabin to find Calpurnia waiting for me. A garland placed upon her brow. I smiled at this.
“Laurels for the conqueror?” I mused.
“Something like that.” she answered pensively. I sat down and removed my cloak. I knew she had a reason for leaving the party so early. I should have guessed what she had to say. “They gave me this garland,” she said, “Because I have captured the heart of the one they have come to worship.” She took it off and glanced at it for a moment, then she flung it to the floor.
“But have I?” she asked. “Have I really?”
“You have conquered the hearts of everyone here,” I replied, “How could I resist you?” She jumped up and clenched her fist.
“This is not a time for your cleverness!” she demanded. “I need to hear your heart, not your mind.”
I got up and took her in my arms. “I have already told you what is in my heart…”
She pulled away and turned to the bunk. “But you have not shown me,” she said softly. “I have been here with you for nights now and you have made no effort to touch me. Do you not find me desirable?”
“I have never found any woman more desirable!” I said. She turned back to me.
“Then why are we living like brother and sister?’ she asked. “Do not tell me it is because of the pact. The entire crew thinks otherwise and you know it.”
“You are here as the ‘Captain’s Woman’ to prevent any more attacks like the other night,” I replied, “They cannot touch you now without committing mutiny.”
This was the wrong answer to her. She got up again and began to pace the floor with her arms crossed.
“So it is true,” she snapped, “You do not lie with me because you do not want to.”
This comment irritated me somewhat. I put my cloak back over my shoulders and stiffened. I pointed at the bunk. “Sit down, Calpurnia.” She glared at me and did not move. I repeated my order with emphasis, my eyes cutting into her like arrows. She moved to the bunk and sat down.
“The day we took this ship,” I began, “When I first entered this cabin and looked into that mirror I saw how imprisonment had changed me. I thought I looked very old. But I was not. I was still little more than a boy. I had killed in battle, seen men die, taken command of a rebel crew. Thought I knew all about sufferings. I knew nothing. Two days ago, I ordered this ship into a battle that sent five hundred men to the bottom of the sea. I unleashed weapons so terrible that those who had not seen them could not even imagine them.
“I am only just beginning now. The men see me as a god. But I am only a man. You do not know how lonely it is to be me now. With the whole crew around me I am in effective solitude.
“Am I now to order you to my bed by night knowing I may give orders that could kill you tomorrow? Is that what you want?”
“If that is your wish!” she answered.
“That is not my wish,” I said, “Not for you nor me. I love you more deeply than I can express.” Her expression softened.
“Then you do not have to be so alone,” she said, “I speak of more than sex. You have kept me at arm’s length since we put to sea. Let me help you.”
“It is not that simple, my love,” I said, “I am captain of a madman’s errand. I lead these people to death, including you. If we reach Gibraltar we will engage the fleet. I shall give orders that will kill thousands! In the hold of this ship is an apparatus so deadly that we could not even dare to test it. I cannot imagine what it does. But Calpurnia, I shall use it if I can.”
I sat next to her and put my arms around her again.
“I do not even know what I am anymore,” I said, “I am all twisted up inside. I cannot afford second thoughts or weakness and I will do what I must do. And that is terrible. I was not prepared for what I have become. I have confessed that to no one but you. If I loved you less, I would take you right now! But you are too precious for that.
“When this is over you will not be able to keep me away! I adore you sweet Calpurnia, as no other ever could.”
We shared a long, tender kiss. I laid her on my bunk and pulled the covers over her. “Sleep now, by my side,” I said, “As long as there is life in me, you shall never want or fear!”
We embraced and drifted to sleep in soft conversation. For the first time in weeks I felt like a human being again. For the moment.
27
NEPTUNE’S VENGEANCE
By midday the drills and firing tests had gotten underway. After a vigorous morning of work I took a rest after the sighting upon the bridge. Looking back at our stern, the wash in the sea and the sparkles dancing on the water seemed incongruous against the backdrop of the dry firing test of the cannon.
Our inventors had rigged an exact duplicate of the clay cannons and with a shell on the line. Removable charges were packed into the chamber and “dry” shells were loaded into it. A wooden target was in tow and they conducted range testing. These tests resulted in more splashes than hits at first but the accuracy was improving. The steady stream of bangs would rock the ship for days to come.
Presently I took the helm and was joined by my executive officer, whom I had little chance to converse with before that. After a few preliminary comments he turned to more personal conversation. It was as if he had listened to what Calpurnia and I had spoken of the night before. I was past all complaining and self-doubt. I would never speak of such things again but he also sensed my mood.
“I warned you this would happen,” he chided, “It was inevitable that you would face these issues. Every commander does in war. But you are dealing with it well.”
“I suppose you are right,” I said, “It is not those things that are worrying me.”
“What, then?” he asked.
“I have been thinking about our chances,” I replied, “Do you have a guess?” He took a long breath and shook his head.
“Impossible to guess,” he said, “But I do not think they are good.”
“I have been thinking the same thing,” I said. “Sixteen Septimus ships and the Agrippa!”
“The Agrippa is slow!” he answered.
“Yes, I know,” I said, “But she is also big! Too big for the cannon.” Another test went off behind us.
“Well,” he mused, “Perhaps the gods will provide us with an answer for her too. If it ever comes to that.”
“MISFIRE!” was immediately shouted from the stern and all dropped to the deck as one. A moment later I opened an eye to look aft. The Greek stood with his hands on his hips and nodded his head.
“That is more like it,” he shouted, “Misfire drill over. You may resume your posts.” The Briton rose from the deck and scowled.
“Are we going to have to go through that every day?” he snapped. “It is bad enough to have our teeth rattled out without having to hit the deck on demand!”
“It is better that than having your head blown off!” shouted the Persian.
I have not said much about our chief of archers and marines but he had been no less busy than the rest of us. Along with Primus, he kept the men sharp and ready for combat at a moments’ notice. He was so much a part of the ships’ workings that it could not have functioned well without him. I had not taken the opportunity to learn more of him but he was certainly a leader of men. Two days later at the end of drills, he opened up and told us about himself.
“My people come from the banks of the great river,” he began, “We call it the Thames. When I was a young man, the
Romans established a trade settlement at Londunium. I was strong and clever and they were well impressed with me. Soon, I was employed as a freeman overseer by the City Governor, who was a Roman, of course. I grew in wealth and power for a Briton and was a leader among my people. To the Romans I was just seen as a useful ‘barbarian’.
“Nevertheless, I was young and I thought I actually was somebody. I even was allowed into the baths and theaters at times. The forests and fields of Britannia are still full of tribes. Many of them are anti-roman. One tribe that had never been conquered even by Claudius was the Iceni. Their old king, Prasutagus made a political pact with the Empire, naming his two daughters as co-heirs with the Emperor. When old Prasutagus died his queen, Boudicca, accompanied her daughters to Londunium to present their claim.
“But the Romans rejected them by saying that no women could hold a legitimate claim to his fortune or title. They raped and tortured the two daughters in front of Boudicca and lashed them, bare breasted, out of the settlement. The Romans thought they had seen the last of the Iceni Queen…
“They were wrong.
“The tale of her outrageous treatment spread throughout the forests and countryside like an untamed fire and consumed the Britons with hunger for revenge. It was an old wound and the Romans had opened it once more.
“By the time Romans realized what they were up against; Boudicca had joined her forces with Celtic Tribes from all over, including the Trinovantes and even the Druids. Moving through the forests like angry ghosts, nothing could stop them. When the Roman commander Suetonius was called for, Camulodunum had already been overrun and destroyed. Suetonius sent a messenger conveying his regrets but he had insufficient forces to repel the uprising. Instead, he advised the Romans to ‘evacuate Londunium and flee to the south’.
“By the time the evacuation began, we could see the smoke and hear the war cries from the approaching tribes. Every Roman who could afford a cart or horse got out as quickly as they could. The rest were left to flee on foot, including all the local Britons, who the invaders regarded as collaborators. I was instructed to load as much wealth and property as I could onto carts and take them to safety. But I disregarded the order. I threw the junk into the Thames, loaded as many Britons as I could into the carts and lead them across the river to the southeast.
“Once I knew they were safe I returned to the forest and watched the battle of Londunium from the top of a tall tree. It was no battle at all. Londunium had no chance. They came half naked and covered in paint, carrying long spears. They covered the ground like ants. Some on foot, some in wicker chariots, killing everything and everybody they saw. They tied bags of hot ashes to the faces of the men, even the old ones. Many had their manhood cut off.
“As for the women, they cut off their breasts and stuffed them into their mouths, stretching them out on pikes like gruesome dolls. Everything in Londunium was burned to the ground. Even the great bridge. Throughout all of this the masked Druids lined the hills with spears and pointed at the sky, crying for the gods to avenge them.
“Those Roman fools! There is nothing crazier or more brutal than angry Britons bent on revenge.
“Later, when the carts did not arrive the Romans remembered me and issued a warrant for my arrest. After Londunium none of it seemed to matter anymore. I could stand neither Roman nor Briton. For if the Romans acted arrogant and cowardly, it seemed to me that the Britons behaved even worse. I made it to the coast and worked my way to the mainland on a freighter. I finally was somebody to the Romans. I needed to be nobody again.
“Just when I thought I had gotten clear and been forgotten, they caught up with me in Massilia. A retired legionnaire from Britannia recognized me. At my trial the Legion Commander called for my death, but the magistrate disagreed. Saying that, ‘Any man of conscience might have done the same thing under the circumstances.’ He showed mercy. However, I did disobey an order and considerable wealth had been lost on my account. So he sentenced me to the galleys. That is how I wound up here.”
His tale was so interesting that I hardly noticed that an unusual amount of moisture had built up on the railing I was leaning against. It was only when he stopped that I realized that it was getting humid and beads of water were forming on everything. This is not a good sign at sea. I quickly scanned the skies all around us but there were only slight wisps of cloud to be seen. Calling to the helm, I asked what color the sky had been at first light of day. He reported nothing unusual. The skies were clear. I sniffed the air but could sense no trace of that vague hint of unusual saltiness that suggested a storm in the making. As night drew near I kept an eye to the air and sky.
I did not sleep well as the motions of Antonia grew more agitated during the night. The following morning saw my worst fears come true. The sun rose crimson against the eastern sky. A storm would soon be upon us. Storm watches were placed and preparations were put in motion.
Another new feature of the Septimus galleys was oar-port hatches, which could be swung down and secured in the event of stormy seas. These hinged doors took less than a tenth of the time required by the old block-and-board method which would have taken most of a day to secure on a ship the size of Antonia. The oars were lashed to the benches. All casks were also tied down. The armory was quickly secured and the powder room was made water-tight.
As the safety lines were strung along the deck and the hatches secured, the darkening sky grew gray and the sun was gone by noon. The sea grew choppy and the wind began to blow from a strong southeasterly direction. I ordered below for wine to be heated as the chill up top was beginning to take its toll. By three o’clock the white caps began to appear and tacking became more difficult. The helm was doubled and before dark the storm was upon us. We turned our course into it.
As great surges began to wash our decks the pumping crews were put into action both fore and aft. The storm continued to grow in ferocity throughout the night. Graceful Antonia was now a bumpy, downhill cart struggling to stay in control. Before dawn of the second day the winds grew so fierce that we had struck much of our sail and relied heavily on jibs and half-lateen for maneuvering.
All up top was shouting for this was the only communication that could be heard over the howling in our ears. Soon even this was of no use and we had to rely on hand signs. After two full watches I had to retire to my cabin and try to reckon with our course changes in the wind. It was a relief to get out of the wind and soaking to the relative dryness of the cabin, although there really is no dry place on a ship in a gale. The sea penetrates everything above and below decks no matter where it is. A few moments later Primus came in and reported that the pumps were not able to keep up with the water we were taking on.
“Order all hands that are not on duty to a baling detail,” I demanded, “We have to keep the water out!” He quickly left and set about it. After a few minutes I decided that charting was futile. Our business now was to simply hang on and ride out the storm. Neptune was now in charge of our course and everything else. I went below to inspect the situation and a steady line of gray-faced men with buckets ran the length of the ship. Nobody looks good onboard a ship in a gale this severe. The men bore it but I began to wonder how long they could withstand the effort.
Morning had dawned and the storm continued to rage. I swallowed down some hot wine to drive the chills that had now overcome my limbs. It helped a little. As I went back up top and pulled myself to the bridge I realized that Primus had not taken rest since the storm began. Just as I thought to order him below the Helmsman cried, “She is not responding, Captain! I cannot hold her.” I signaled to strike the lateen and took the helm. It moved like butter. That was not good. Returning the helm, I clawed my way aft to the stern to check the steerage lines. By the time I got there, the ship rocked so hard that I found myself up to my waist in water one moment and high in the air the next. It was only then that I had realized that the swirling winds had changed on us quite abruptly.
That is when it hit us.
&nb
sp; A giant swell struck our port side with such volume that it completely covered the ship and nearly sucked me overboard. I felt the deck disappear from below me and suddenly realized that there was only a foot of rope holding me onto the ship. An instant later the deck slammed into me and I was aboard her again. In the gray blur through smarting eyes I briefly saw three men wash over the side and that was the last we ever saw of them. I cleared my eyes and inspected the lines, which were not fouled. As I glanced up again another swell nearly as big struck from the same direction. Clinging for life I saw no men go but the ship heeled so far to starboard that we almost lost her.
I pulled as fast as I could back to the bridge. Primus beat me to it and ordered the wheel hard to port and into the swells. As I clawed past the portal below I could hear the chaos that was going on inside Antonia. Men and huge amounts of water sloshed around inside her bowels. The water we had taken on added to the list of the ship as it splashed its weight to starboard. Another few tons of water and we would have surely floundered. The men below threw themselves against the port side to combat it.
A cask had broken loose and the Briton was leading the effort to secure it. The ship slowly turned just as another swell struck us, this time I could see how big it was. It was as high as the beam on our mainmast. I estimate at least twenty-five feet. Again we were awash in a giant wave and my feet were pulled out from under me. My right hand lost grip of the line and just as my left slipped off, another hand grasped my wrist and pulled me back to the line. Through the smear I could see the face of my rescuer: 36 Secundus!
As I made it to the bridge the ship had successfully been turned into the swells. Antonia now bobbed like a cork on Neptune’s fury. By midday the swells abated somewhat, but we kept our bow to the storm not wishing to tempt providence again. As the ship moved through the swells, a loud groan would emanate up from the keel and through the ship. It was an unnerving sound but the mind quickly adapted to it under the circumstances. Even though we were steering to the south, the sea kept pushing us west.