by Griff Hosker
Shaking his head the huge captain led them back up the gangplank. “No we are still awaiting some more messages to take to Rome. At least when they arrive we can leave immediately. You are our only cargo. I hope they are swift for the tide will soon turn.” He pointed to where five smaller ships were already heading out to sea. Unlike the liburnian which they were boarding, these smaller vessels had no rowers and relied on their sails. “The smaller fry are taking advantage of both the wind and the tide and will soon be out to sea.”
When they reached the main deck Metellus looked around and then scratched his head. “Are there no cabins?”
The captain roared a laugh so loud that those on the stone quayside turned to look at the source of the noise. “This is a working ship my friend. Even the captain does not have a cabin.” He gestured to the scrap of canvas which covered the stern of the ship. “That is the captain’s cabin.”
Metellus nodded in a satisfied way and smiled smugly at Livius. “Now you see why I had us laden like pack mules.”Turning to the captain he asked. “Do you have somewhere for us to sleep sir?”
Quintus pointed to the bow. “You can place your belongings at the bow under the lee of corvus. We only use that area when we fight and I only need sailors at the stern, which is where we steer the ship.”
Rufius had never been on a ship before and he whispered to Livius. “Lee? Corvus? Are they speaking a foreign language?”
“Aye the language of the sea,” laughed Livius. “The lee means protected by and the corvus is that wooden bit at the front with the spike on it. When this ship rams another they lower the corvus and it holds the other ship to this one and then the marines attack.”
“Marines?”
“Auxiliaries of the sea,” added Metellus. “How many marines do you have captain?”
“Not many. Just an optio and four maniples.” He grinned at them. “If we have to fight then you three will earn your passage. Did you bring weapons?”
Livius gripped the hilt of his sword while Rufius and Metellus held up bows. “As we are going to the edge of the Empire we thought we ought to protect ourselves.”
“You can use those?”
Livius grinned. “When we are at sea Metellus will show you just how accurate he is.”
“Well stow your gear and then join me at the stern. We will drink a libation so that Neptune watches over us.”
As they walked down the gangway which ran along the middle of the ship Rufius looked down curiously at the rowers who were all in the well of the ship, throwing dice, chatting and in some cases sleeping. He said quietly to Metellus, “I thought the rowers were slaves.”
“No Rufius. They are paid to row. If you have a strong back and little imagination it is a good job. These men will have had a few days with nothing to do. Auxiliaries never get a day off.”
When they arrived at the corvus Metellus unpacked the larger bag and took out the piece of canvas which he and Rufius tied tautly from the cleats on one side of the bow to those on the other. Livius wedged their other bags into the spaces on the corvus. They soon had their sleeping quarters organised. One of the sailors, who was idling at the side, nodded to the bow, “You’ll be fine there unless we get a strong sea then you’ll be a bit wet.”
“Is that likely?”
“Not until we get close to Gaul. The first week will be plain sailing for the Mare Germanicus is shallow but down near to Gallia Aquitania it can get a bit wet. You’ll see.” laughing he headed back to the stern.
Rufius looked worriedly at Metellus. “What did he mean?”
“Don’t worry Rufius he was just tormenting you. Just like us with new recruits.” A look of relief spread across the young man’s face. “I dare say we will be wet but we will have nothing to do for at least a week.”
“A week? How long will it take us to get to Namnetum then?”
Livius shrugged. “I will ask Quintus but I suspect at least two weeks.” He looked darkly eastwards. “The last sea voyage I made east was to the Emperor’s cell and I had more on my mind than wind and water. Come let us make a libation for a quiet crossing.”
The crew was silent as Quintus made the offering of wine to Neptune. Sailors were a most superstitious group of men but as Metellus said later to Rufius, “When you are sailing so close to the edge of the world with unknown sea monsters then you have a right to be superstitious.”
Propitiously the riders arrived with the messages they were to take to Rome. Even Livius was surprised by the quantity which was placed in a sealed box solidly attached to the deck at the stern of the ship. As Quintus locked it he smiled at the three Explorates. “Part of my bedding. It stops me rolling around too much.”
“There seem to be a lot of messages.”
Quintus shrugged. “It is a new Governor and I hear the Ninth is heading north which means there will be requests from every unit in the province for more supplies.”
“And I thought the movement was a secret.”
Snorting Quintus retorted. “A secret? In this place? Every whoreson of an official will have told his tart what is going on. There are no secrets in Eboracum.” He rubbed his hands gleefully together. “And now we go.” Putting his hands on his hips he roared. “Prepare to sail! Cast off forrard! First mate, hoist the sail!” As the forward ropes were untied the prow of the ship leaned into the middle of the river like a greyhound straining at the leash. Quintus, holding the tiller in his massive paw looked around to make sure all was well. “Cast off aft!”
Rufius was not expecting the lurch and as the ship leapt into the middle of the river he fell to the deck. Quintus and the others at the stern roared with laughter. “Oh I do love taking landsmen to sea. Now gentlemen if you would like to make yourselves comfortable I will be rather busy until we reach the mouth of this bitch of a river.”
The three Explorates went back to the prow of the ship and seated themselves on the boxes which were attached to the inboard side of the ship. Soon Metellus was pointing to their right at a stand of scrubby bushes and trees. “There that is where we last saw your brother!”
“You are right so the chase begins now.”
The river was as placid as it was possible to be and with the gentle wind from the north east they made good time as they meandered their way south to the sea. The banks on either side were less than thirty paces from each side of the narrow ship at first but gradually and inexorably the gap widened and they began to pick up speed. The oarsmen continued to rest, gamble or eat knowing that once they hit the sea they would have to work much harder.
“Well sir…”
“Metellus we will give our cover away if you two are ‘sirring’ me all the time. It is Livius.”
“Right well then, er, Livius. You know your brother better than we do. Where do you reckon he would go?”
“I suspect that his original intention would have been to go to Italy. He loved the idea of the luxury and excess of the centre of the Empire. Our uncle told us fabulous tales of life at court but I think that he would worry too much that he would be seen and identified. Africa and the east would appeal for the same reasons but unless he managed to acquire a trustworthy crew I do not think he would risk having his throat slit and his ill gotten gains taken. If I were a betting man I would put my money on either Gaul of Hispana.” He shrugged, “As that is the last place he was seen then that will be the first place we look.” Even as he told his men of his plan it seemed to him even more daunting than when the Governor had outlined it. Gaul was a large place and he knew that his brother would have made it difficult to be found. This promised to be a long journey and with little likelihood of success.
They watched the river drift by for a while each one enjoying the tranquillity of the journey; a marked contrast from their normal frenetic rides over rough unknown terrain. Here they could see clearly for miles and they could not be surprised, at least not in daylight.
“Wasn’t Hispana the home of Prefect Marcus?”
“Yes he was
taken from Cantabria as a child and he never returned.”
Metellus mused on the way that coincidences occurred. “The Parcae are fickle furies are they not, weaving their plots and spells?”
“Talk not of spells Metellus it brings to mind Morwenna and I had hidden her in the depths of forgetfulness.”
“She could be with your brother.”
“No we would have seen her on the boat. It was only small remember? Besides there are rumours of the cult on Manavia and Mona once more. The Twentieth will have their hands full with that one if she decides to cause mischief in the west.”
Suddenly the ship lurched as the river turned east to the mouth estuary and the waves began to break against the bow. A voice boomed from the stern less than thirty paces from where they sat. “Caesar crew prepare oars!” The three men looked puzzled until they saw the rowers to their left begin to slip their oars through the small holes in the side of the ship. “Pompey crew prepare oars!” The rowers on the right did the same.
“Clever,” commented Metellus, when Rufius looked confused he explained. “In the heat of the battle it is easier to shout Caesar or Pompey and give your orders, no confusion then each bank knows exactly what they are to do.”
“Ship’s crew extend oars!” With a military precision which would have been applauded by a First Cohort the two banks of oars were run out in perfectly parallel lines on both sides of the ship at exactly the same time. “Lower oars! Row!” The beat of the drum seemed to echo across the water but Livius noticed that the boat moved with more urgency and purpose even though it was obvious that the rate of rowing was slow. Suddenly they could see the open sea and the boat began to pitch a little more than before.
Livius looked at the face of Rufius who appeared to be becoming a shade paler and greener. “A word of advice to you two. If you are going to get rid of this morning’s breakfast then go to the stern and use the right side.” Rufius had the blank look of someone who has heard a foreign language for the first time. “The wind is from the left it means it won’t come back into your face if you use the left.”
Shamefaced Rufius said, “I should have known that. Thank you Metellus.”
“Don’t worry my young comrade, if the sea gets up I will be joining you.”
“Livius! If you and your friends would like to return to the stern I can answer any questions you may have.”
Returning along the gangway was more hazardous now that they were at sea as it tipped and lurched from side to side in the swell but they managed the thirty steps without disaster. “Well what do you boys think of our fine ship?”
“She is faster than we thought.”
A warm, proud look lit up the bearded captain’s face. “Aye that she is. Neither worms nor weed on this one. Every time we are in port I have either the Caesar or Pompey crew over the side cleaning it. We can outrun anything we see and catch anything we want.” He waved a dismissive hand across the sea. “There was a time we would have had ten or twenty ships here, in the time of Agricola, now we will be lucky to see one. So we have to do the work of ten ships.”
“Yes Quintus but are there any enemies here to bother you?”
“Absolutely Livius. There are pirates. Wild Germans and worse than that. There are fierce barbarians who live far away in the icy north where no Roman has ever ventured. They have long fast boats, just one set of oars a side but if you have a fleet of them then they can be trouble.”
Metellus patted the Scorpion next to him. “I take it these bolt throwers discourage them?”
“They do indeed. They just close and board for they do not use weapons such as this which gives us an advantage as we can outmanoeuvre them and destroy them at will.”
“Didn’t they use fire at Actium when the fleets of Caesar and Cleopatra fought?”
“Aye Livius but we sailors hate fire. A wooden boat is not a place for fire. That’s why you’ll be on cold rations. We only eat hot in port. Now then tell me more, if you can, about your secret little mission.”
Livius knew he could trust his old friend but he did not know about the rest of the crew and so he decided to tell what he could but not the whole truth. “We are seeking my brother. He is a traitor and was with the witch Morwenna when she revolted last year. He led an army of deserters. The Governor wants him returned.”
Quintus stroked his beard and then spat over the stern. “No time for traitors myself but I still don’t know why you were chosen?”
“I will recognise him.”
“Ah.” Understanding lit the captain’s eyes. “And the last place he was seen was Namnetum?”
“Yes. They found the bodies of the crew he murdered after he stole their boat.”
Growling angrily the big man said, “Well we will do all we can to help you. Poor sailors have a bad enough time of it without being murdered by traitors and their ships stolen.” They were both disturbed by the sounds of Rufius and Metellus as they hurled the contents of their stomachs over the side. Laughing loudly, as were the rest of the crew Quintus roared, “I was going to offer food but I think it will just be us two eh Livius? Hungry?”
“Starved!”
An hour later and the two Explorates had finally finished vomiting. “If I were you lads I would eat something.”
“Sorry sir I will never eat again.”
“Yes you will Rufius and the sooner you eat the better. Here.” He handed them both a piece of dried pork which they took reluctantly. He nodded to them both and they tentatively took a bit and chewed. After a few minutes the meat had softened somewhat and Metellus risk a swallow. To his relief it stayed down and he began to eat more heartily. Rufius took confidence and he too began to eat with gusto. “See. You are over you sickness now. Everyone is ill the first time they sail.” Turning to Quintus he said, “We appear to be making good time.”
“Aye, the wind from the north east suits us. We should soon be catching up with the ships that left before us. Probably when we turn south east.”
“Are we at the narrows already?”
“No, but there are nasty sandbanks off the coast of Britannia as well as off the coast of Frisia and Batavia. We lose sight of the coast for a while.” Rufius looked terrified. “Don’t worry son it isn’t for long and when you reach the narrows you can see both Britannia and Gaul at the same time. Right time for you boys to head to the bow again. We are about to get busy.” As the three men negotiated the pitching plank the nimble sailors raced up lines to shorten sail while the First Mate joined the Captain on the tiller.
“Long periods of nothing followed by a frighteningly frenetic time seem to be the lot of the sailor. I will stick to horses.”
“Metellus I thought you were converted to a sea marine.”
“No sir the back of a horse’s arse suits me fine. I prefer my food inside me and not outside.”
“Sir, er Livius.”
“Yes Rufius?”
“I can see something.” He pointed south, “On the horizon.”
Trusting implicitly the keen eyes of the hunter Livius turned to the stern, “Quintus! Rufius sees something.” He pointed south.
Quintus pointed to a small nimble man and said something. Within moments the wiry sailor was at the top of the mast and peering intently. He shouted down to the captain, “He’s right sir. Looks like pirates have attacked those merchantmen. “
Quintus said something to the drummer and the rate suddenly increased. So great was their speed that the three men were almost knocked off their feet. “Prepare for action!” A sailor walked along the gangway spreading sand while the two maniples of marines manned the two bolt throwers as they hurriedly donned armour.
“Right lads I guess we pay for our passage. Arm yourselves.” Beneath their tunics all three wore leather armour. Rufius and Metellus fitted leather guards to their arms and then strung their bows. While they were doing that Livius took their three swords, the sword of Cartimandua and the two Explorates gladii and began to whet them along his steel.
&
nbsp; Up ahead the barbarians’ ships were herding the frightened merchantmen like wolves with sheep. Their low lean lines meant that they had no one able to see the approaching bireme which was now purposefully eating up the distance between them.
He had just finished when Quintus joined them. He nodded appreciatively to Rufius. “Good eyes lad. Gave us the edge.”
“What is happening then Quintus?”
“Looks like they have laid a trap for the merchantmen. One of them chased them from the north right into the arms of four of their companions who were lying in wait. The wind is from the north which means they have to tack east and as the pirates have rowers they will soon catch them.”
“And your plan is…?”
“Head for the northern boat and disable it with bolts then swing around and take the pirates in turn; we will have the weather gauge and can easily catch them but…”
“But they will outnumber you if they board.”
“Exactly which means I want you three here. If we close my marines will board them over the corvus. You three stop any bugger coming the other way. “He turned to go and then said playfully, “Looks like your lad can show me just how good he is with a bow.
“Well here we go then.” Metellus said ruefully. “Nice little voyage my arse!”
Chapter 13
The northernmost pirate ship had seen them and was rowing as fast as it could to cut out at least one merchantman before the bireme could reach them. In their panic one of the terrified merchantmen had tacked at the wrong time and now lay fouled in the rigging of a second; the two of them easy prey for the voracious wolves of the sea. The other three were trying in vain to out run the four pirates now confidently closing the gap to their sheep like victims.
Metellus peered across the grey flecked waves at the nearest pirate. He could see the helmets of the crew and saw the light flickering off their waiting weapons. “I reckon I can take out the sailor steering the boat.”
“That is over three hundred paces Metellus.”
“Aye sir but as the Captain said the wind is with us and this is a better platform than the back of a horse.” He shrugged, “What can it hurt, it is just one arrow.”