by Griff Hosker
“Is that the only channel he could use?”
“Aye there are bridges across the other one. The smaller boats use that one. Do not worry he will not get by us if that is your brother for I will anchor in the main channel. The tide is going out and he would hit the sandbanks. Fear not Livius, if your brother has a ship he has to come this way.”
* * * * * * *
Decius too was in pain but, as he sat on the deck of the dirty, leaky bucket of a boat he reflected that soon he would be able to relax once they had finished loading the gold and escaped down the river. The sun was rising in the sky and Centurion was fretting at the time it took to load the gold but Decius smiled to himself. Thanks to his brother’s letter they would be able to pass through any official barrier at Namnetum and then it was the open sea and freedom. He and Centurion had been less than happy with the crew of the ship chosen by Narcissus but Centurion was still so angry about Tiny’s death that Decius was not worried. His right hand man would control the crew. Already the captain was looking askance at the scowling, scarred soldier who prowled about his deck like an angry lion. Their safety was assured when one of the ship’s crew slipped on the gangplank and dropped a small box containing some copper overboard. Centurion picked him up with one hand and slit his throat with his gladius. As he tossed the body after the gold he roared,” And that is the punishment for any man who loses any more gold!”
The crew were disreputable and villainous but even they had never come across a man as frightening as an enraged Centurion and no more gold was lost. As the last box came aboard Decius stared down the trail now brightly lit by sunshine. He turned to Nuada. “Any sign of pursuit?”
“None General. Tiny did a good job on your brother. He is probably still at the villa.”
Centurion glared at the mention of Tiny’s name. “Do not be too sure.” He gestured at Decius. “One brother has travelled as far with a severe wound. We have been lucky although I would that they had reached us and then I could have killed them with my bare hands.”
The captain approached them nervously. “That is the cargo aboard. What are our orders?”
“Set sail!” snapped Centurion.
“For...”
“For the sea you half wit!”
The captain recoiled in fear. “No I mean once we are at sea where will we go. The estuary has sandbanks and shoals I need to know it we go north or south.”
Decius put a hand out to restrain the red faced Centurion. “South captain. We head for Africa.”
Even the captain was surprised. Narcissus had just said he needed to take some cargo but he had never envisaged it would be to Africa. “But we have not enough water or supplies…”
Once again Decius restrained Centurion who looked ready to rip off the unfortunate captain’s head. “We will put in at another port.”He gestured at the river. “We can get some water now can we not captain? I am no sailor but I would imagine you have buckets and you could take water here and fill barrels.” The captain nodded eager to placate the red faced soldier. “Good. “ As the captain scurried off to give his orders Decius put his good arm around Centurion. “I know you grieve for our friend but losing your temper all the time will do no good. The last thing we need is to antagonise the crew. Things are going as we planned. We have a ship, we have a pass and within the hour we will be beyond Rome and its tentacles.”
Centurion took a deep breath and sighed. “You are right it is just that I thought the three of us would enjoy life in Africa together. I never thought that anyone would be able to kill Tiny.”
“Nor did I, nor did I. It shows you that all of us are mortal. It is a lesson in humility old friend.”
The ship slowly made its way to the sea. The current helped but even so they had to tack painstakingly slowly especially when they approached the small island Livius had used to cross the river in the night. The captain could see that Centurion was becoming frustrated and he nervously explained. “Soon the river widens out. Once we have passed the island we will make much better speed.”
As they turned the bend in the river they saw the citadel in the distance. Nuada’s keen eyes picked out the Hercules in the middle of the river. “That looks like a Roman ship.”
Decius patted the calfskin letter. “We have our letter of transit Nuada fear not.” Even as he said it he felt a certain disquiet for the bireme looked to be intent on blocking the river; it was either an incompetent captain or there was danger. “However just to be safe make sure our men are armed and ready and see that the captain has people on the oars.”
* * * * * * *
It did indeed take Quintus a longer time to float the ship and warp to the main channel than he had anticipated. Although they could not see any ship coming downstream Livius was anxious lest it come racing by when they were still rowing. Quintus grinned at the landsman. “Boats are not like horses Livius. They do not go faster because you whip them. They are subject to wind and water. The enemy, if they are the enemy, are not in sight yet. We will have plenty of time when we do see them.”
They were passing the citadel and Quintus waved amiably at the sentries who were watching their manoeuvre with interest. “They are wondering what we are doing. I expect the guard boat to come and interrogate us in a moment.”
Sure enough the small boat propelled by four marines left the quayside. There were two figures in the stern, one in the uniform of a marine and the other looked remarkably like the promagistrate, Coccius. When it drew closer Quintus let out a sigh of amazement. “I have never known that little man to leave his office in all my visits here. Something must be amiss.”
The boat rowed around to the stern of the Hercules and Quintus went, along with Metellus and Rufius to speak with the promagistrate who gripped the sides of the boat his face a portrait of fear. “Er captain it is good to see you. I received your message about the Emperor’s men and I see you have two of them with you. Where is the leader? I hope nothing untoward has happened.”
“He is on the deck but he is injured.”
“Ah good for I have had letters from Rome,” the official positively beamed at having had a missive directly from Rome and addressed to him. He suddenly felt at the centre of things. “Rome wishes to know if the mission was successful.”
Quintus looked at Metellus and shrugged. Metellus called down, “We believe it will be. The man and the cargo we are seeking should be coming down the river soon which is why the captain has anchored here.”
The promagistrate poked a neatly manicured finger at the red faced marine officer. “Do you see? I told you that the captain would have had a good reason to anchor here. Next time listen to me.” He looked up at Quintus. “Is there anything we can do?”
“We should have his escape route covered but if you could aim your bolt throwers at them it may dissuade them from flight.”
“Excellent,” he turned to the marines, “back to land.” Calling up he said, “Do join me in my office when this unpleasantness is finished with. I would like to hear more about this adventure.”
As the boat turned to row away Quintus laughed. “He will dine off this story for the next year. Soon he will be instrumental in single handedly capturing the enemy of the Emperor and will become the Emperor’s favourite official.”
Metellus nodded. “Officials are the same the whole world over but he seems like a good sort for all that.”
“Oh he is, believe me, a little inclined to be pedantic and fussy but efficient.”
“I heard most of that.”Although he had not moved Livius had not taken his eyes from the upstream river but he had listened to every word. “Any sign of the enemy?”
Quintus looked up at the man perched precariously at the mast head. “Any …”
“Sail away!” the voice called down even as Quintus asked the question.
“There is your answer. Marines!” The men had been readying themselves and they soon had the two bolt throwers pointed upstream even though they could see nothing. Rufius and
Metellus strung their bows. Quintus nodded to Metellus. “If you get the opportunity take out the steersman and any who try to aid him. It will make our job easier.”
Metellus nodded and said to Rufius, “Then your job is to get Centurion and don’t stop with one arrow. I want him stuck with more arrows than a porcupine’s arse.”
Behind them they heard the rasp of steel as Livius took his sword from its scabbard. The three of them turned to face him. Metellus gave a disbelieving shake of the head. “And what do you think you are doing?”
“Preparing to fight.”
“Fight? You cannot even stand. Put your sword away you will not need it this day.”
Livius tried to stand and managed to get to his feet but when he tried to move he ended up slumped back in the seat feeling foolish. “If you don’t mind I will keep my blade ready. I may not be able to move but with luck someone will seek me out and if it is my brother then I will be ready.”
Quintus laughed his loud raucous laugh. “I can see that you know nothing of boats Livius. They are too low in the water to board us. They will be at our mercy and will probably strike when they get in bow shot.”
“I can see her!” Rufius’ shout dragged their attention to the main channel where the ship emerged, under reefed sails, around the bend. Rufius continued to peer then he suddenly shouted, “It is them!”
“By Neptune’s beard how do you know?”
“I can see Centurion.” He pointed. “He is the huge man with the helmet and shield.”
Quintus turned to Metellus, “I can just see the ship.”
“I know, he is annoying but thank the Allfather he has good eyes. We now know it is them. Livius your quest is almost over.”
* * * * * * *
Centurion had distanced himself from the others at the prow of the ship. He knew that he was being unreasonable and all he wanted to do was to kill someone. The unfortunate crew member had not been enough. He stood at the front of the sleek ship, almost like a figurehead with his shield and sword ready to fight Neptune himself and gain revenge for Tiny. It was Centurion who saw the bireme anchored in their path. Before he could shout a warning the lookout did it for him.
The captain, known as Fingers as he had lost three fingers in a discussion about dice some years earlier, became alarmed. It was a Roman warship. He and his crew might take a small merchantman but to take on a Roman war ship was beyond foolish it was madness! He was about to order the sail to be furled when he felt the pugeo in his ribs as Decius’ voice hissed, “Do not even think of surrender! We have bought this ship and we have bought you and your crew. I am the master now!”
“But it is a Roman warship!”
“Even I can see there is a gap on either side of the ship. Sail through it! Use more sail and you will be through before they notice.”
The captain’s eyes and voice pleaded with Decius. “But there are shallows on one side and Roman artillery on the other!”
“Then sail as close as you can to the bow of the ship and you will be safe. Your choice is clear. Obey me and live, or refuse and die.”
He knew what his answer would have to be. At least if they ran aground he could escape. He had sewn the gold into a belt beneath his tunic and he would be rich enough to buy another ship. The crew had yet to be paid and Fingers was a born survivor. “Full sail!”
The crew just stared until Nuada yelled, “You heard the captain now move you maggots!” The sharp sword in his hand and Centurion’s murderous looks convinced them that, tough as they were, their new owners were tougher.
Centurion grinned when he heard Nuada’s voice. This would be a glorious end, if it was to be the end and a great tale to tell if they succeeded. He could see the bolt throwers preparing to fire as did the captain. Fingers did not want to die and he began to turn the boat. The result was greater speed as he was, in effect, tacking the ship and, even more critically, a harder target to hit. The first bolt hissed along the side barely missing the ship and the crew began to look at the river as a possible option. Decius had second guessed them and his voice was icy, “Any man who jumps will die.” They stared at the stern where Septimus and another of Decius’ men stood with bent bows. Any potential swimmers quickly decided to stay. A second bolt thudded into the ship burying itself in the bowels of the ship.
They had now closed the gap to the Hercules and the bolt throwers would only get one more shot before they were too close. The third bolt hurtled towards Centurion. He had no chance to avoid the bolt which was heading straight for his chest but the captain’s last manoeuvre slewed the boat a little and the bolt glanced off Centurion’s shield to fly along the length of the boat. Centurion was knocked from his feet, which probably saved his life as the arrow from Rufius’ bow thudded into the deck where he had been stood.
Metellus’ first arrow took out the steersman who lurched to one side. As he died his body pushed the tiller to the left and it suddenly swung towards the citadel exposing its whole side to the bolt throwers on the walls. Both bolts struck home, one below the waterline and one in the stern. Fingers shouted to one of his men and they threw their weight against the tiller and it seemed to dance in a circle, slowing as it came into the wind and then lurching forward when the wind caught it again. The second steersman died and then the bolts from the citadel were striking the ship with regularity and accuracy. They were so close now that they could see, clearly, the figures on the other ship. Suddenly Decius looked across and there, clutching the side of the ship and a rope was his brother.
“I told you I would catch you and now you will be punished.”
Centurion roared as he recognised the Explorates. “I am going to rip out your fucking hearts!“ Metellus knew that honour was wasted on such men and he fired an arrow which flew though the shield and pinned it to Centurion’s arm. A normal man would have fallen or fled at the pain but Centurion merely pointed his sword at Metellus and shouted, “And you are first! You coward!”
Rufius and Metellus were now pouring arrows into the ship and both the crew and Decius’ men were taking cover. The exception was Decius himself who stared at his brother, his face infused with hatred.
Fingers had taken the pirate ship so close to the Hercules that even Metellus and Rufius had no angle to fire. It looked as though they might actually escape as the crafty captain threw the rudder over to slide his ship beneath the corvus of the warship. The Parcae had not done with Decius; as the ship heeled, the wind filling her sails, the front section of the ship plunged deeper into the water. The bolts had done their damage and, as the bow dipped, planks sprung and cracked open. The steady ingress of water became a flood and the bow of the ship filled with the river and estuary water. Quickly flooding the whole front section of the ship dropped lower into the water and sharply struck the sandbank. Every one of the crew and all the passengers were thrown forward as the ship suddenly stopped with its mast next to the bow of the Hercules.
Even though they were outnumbered by the pirate crew, the sixteen marines leapt down to the deck below. Metellus and Rufius fired a quick volley of arrows taking out Septimus and his archer companion and sending another arrow into Centurion’s leg. Then they too leapt to the deck below. Nuada saw them and raced towards them sword raised high, intent on killing the archer. Metellus was too busy fighting off one of Decius’ men to notice him but the deserter slipped on a pool of Centurion’s blood and his blade slice into the mast instead. Metellus whipped around with his bow, the only weapon to hand. The sharp point ripped across Nuada’s face tearing out one of his eyes. As he dropped the sword to protect his damaged eye Metellus sliced through his throat ending his life instantly. He fell to the deck with a surprised expression on his face, all dreams of gold disappearing into the river with his life blood.
Centurion was fighting three of the marines and, despite his wounds, was holding his own. One of the marines was already wounded. Fingers had decided that he did not want to face crucifixion and he leapt over the side to wade to the shore aw
ay from the citadel. The crew saw his actions and, to a man, joined him. The ship had now settled on the bottom of the sand and the river bed canted the ship at an angle. Rufius and Metellus took the opportunity to finish off the last of Decius’ men.
There just remained Centurion on his feet. Two of Quintus’ marines lay at his feet and eight others surrounded him. “Come on you miserable gets! See how a real man fights!” The terrified marines stood away from the reach of his mighty sword.
Metellus turned to Rufius and said,” I have had enough of this. They both raised their bows and two arrows flew into the ex legionary’s throat. They notched two more and sent them through his leather armour into his chest. Still he stood there silently roaring his defiance, the blood pouring from his wounds. “Die you bastard, die!” Their last arrows plunged into his eyes and after a moment, as life left his shattered body, he crashed to the deck.
The marines, Metellus and Rufius looked around the deck for more enemies but the deck was lifeless. Quintus yelled, “They are over there heading ashore.”
Metellus and Rufius began picking off the ones furthest away when Metellus suddenly remembered the reason they were there and shouted, “Decius! Where is that snake?”