Our Eternal Curse I

by Simon Rumney

  “This truly is a day of surprises,” said Gavius shaking his large head then finding courage that did not come easily added, “You may look like a little girl but you are as manipulative as a Senator and even though you represent certain death I must insist that I know the nature of your proposal.”

  “Oil, olive oil in great quantity and at the right price.”

  Julia would not be drawn to say anything more she could see that he was on the hook there was the smell of a profit in her words and of course the chance of staying alive.

  Walking from his shop Julia crossed the busy street just inches ahead of a bullock cart laden with amphora and hurried into a small alley. On the verge of collapsing she leaned against the wall and dropped her head down between her knees. Gasping for breath Julia stayed motionless trying desperately to regain her composure while feelings of guilt, panic and repulsion pulsed through her body. Tears provoked by fear cascaded down her cheeks, that angry woman in the oil shop was not how Julia wanted to see herself; somewhere during the transition from country girl to Roman woman she had become a monster.

  Bromidus

  After almost half an hour of walking along the Vicus Patricii, one of the most dangerous streets in Rome, Julia and Gavius turned into a dark lane filled with hungry refugees, mutilated beggars, abscess-ridden whores, dead bodies and murderers willing to kill them both for a loaf of bread. Stepping over and around the pathetic human obstacles Julia was consumed with a trance-like fear which was broken only when Gavius cursed under his breath.

  “What did you say?” Julia was glad to have something more than terror to occupy her thoughts.

  “I said what in the name of the Gods am I doing in this place? Stranger still why am I on my way to introduce a house girl to a bunch of cutthroats? I must be truly mad!”

  Offering no reply Julia was also questioning the sanity of the scheme which had seemed so logical when viewed from the safety of his little oil shop. The assumption that every part of Rome was as civilized as her affluent suburb had obviously been a mistake. The Subra was the most inhospitable quarter and here she was walking through an area which epitomized her old Greek teacher’s description of the underworld with a man whose size made even walking a laborious task.

  Gavius had protested passionately against making this journey and it was becoming very clear to Julia that his warnings of danger were not exaggerated. She had selfishly used his insatiable lust for money and fear of arrest as a fulcrum to overcome his complete spinelessness and it was that ignorant cajoling which had led them to the potential disaster they found themselves embroiled in now.

  After walking down seemingly endless rain soaked and rubbish packed alleyways Gavius stopped outside a heavy wooden door covered with rusting metal studs. The noise coming from the other side was constant and made up of strange sounding music, tankard bashing on tables and coarse men talking and laughing. Julia had never been to a place where men drank before and as Gavius reached for the door she had no idea what to expect. The danger of the place she had just walked through and the place she was about to enter taunted her insecurities. She was out of her depth and her fragile self-confidence was very aware of the fact.

  “Make sure your hood covers your face. Women are not safe in the taverns of the Subra.” Gavius said it over his shoulder while pushing on the door. Staying very close Julia followed him in and shut their only means of escape behind her.

  All noise stopped so abruptly it played a trick on Julia’s senses. For a split second it appeared as though closing the door had sealed the noise outside and this momentary confusion pushed her even further off balance.

  Julia clutched at her hood as she realized that all in the place sat silently looking at them and her fear was compounded by the realization that many of them were resting their hands on the hilts of daggers. She had no means of understanding how a tavern like this one harbored violent men who belonged to a clique. Julia had no idea that all outsiders were viewed as members of rival clans representing potential danger; all she could see were angry men looking at her with evil in their hearts and she took it very personally.

  Gavius removed his hood and quickly scanned the foul smelling room until he found what he was looking for. Sitting at the back of the tavern was the man they had come to see and even Julia could tell that he held the power in the room. He was a huge man with a completely bald head, his skin was like old brown leather and a long scar traveled from just above his left ear along his cheek below the eye then took a sharp turn down to the corner of his jaw. His chest was the size of a barrel but his forearms were the attribute which held Julia’s attention; they were truly massive so big in fact he appeared to be deformed and the power within them was palpable. This man clearly controlled his environment through sheer violent brawn and as all eyes moved from Gavius to him he gave an almost nonexistent nod and the men of the tavern returned to their pursuits no longer interested in the strangers at the doorway.

  “What have you come here for?” Was all the ox of a man bothered to say making no effort to hide his obvious disdain for Gavius. “And who is he?” he nodded at Julia who had sat down with her hood still hiding her face.

  “This is Julia,” replied Gavius.

  “Julius?” questioned the big man.

  “No Julia,” replied Gavius.

  “Julia what kind of ridiculous name is that for a man?”

  Opening the hood just a little Julia almost choked on her fear as she looked into his black eyes and forced herself to smile. All she could think about was the injury which had caused his disfigurement; it must have been horrendous when inflicted and the thought of such a force flustered her totally. Julia was completely overwhelmed by the sheer physical presence of the giant before her and was on the verge of tears when much to her relief his taunting laughter stopped abruptly and his face turned to that of a love-struck boy. This reaction was better than she could have hoped for she was becoming quite accomplished at using the beauty which Cecilia believed existed. Julia never ceased to marvel at the response it evoked in others even a brute like this one was becoming as malleable as a child merely at the sight of her.

  In a far less aggressive tone the big man said, “I am Bromidus,” then while still looking at Julia he told her to leave the hood up. “For as long as your back is to the room you will not be seen,” he said clearly protective of Julia.

  He was thinking of her safety and that pleased Julia very much. It was plain to see that he would usually care for no one other than himself.

  He indicated with a flick of his powerful hand for the men at the other end of his table to leave and without hesitation they got up from their comfortable seats and began looking for somewhere else to drink.

  With a crooked smile he added, “Women are not safe here but all in this tavern know not to approach me while I am conducting business so for as long as you face me you will be unharmed.”

  His mood changed completely as he snapped at Gavius, “What are you bringing innocent girls to this place for, you fat fool?”

  “She has a proposition for you,” the words sounded like a whimper.

  “What kind of proposition could she possibly have that would interest me?”

  “She would not tell me.”

  “This is absurd! You bring a little girl through the Subra to meet me with no idea what she has to say. You are such a fucking idiot!”

  “Please listen to her, my life depends on it!”

  “What have you told her?”

  “Nothing … You must listen or she will report me to Sulla.”

  Once again the men in the room became silent because Bromidus was standing over the fat man with a dagger at his throat. The scar on his face glowed bright red and lurid profanities cascaded from his mouth at the top of his voice. The fat man would certainly die but no one made a move to help.

  “What did you tell her?” Bromidus growled the words.

  Julia had never seen or heard anything like this before and she had
absolutely no means of dealing with the situation. His movement had been so swift and the danger so palpable that blind panic had consumed her. Julia instinctively understood that controlling her collapsing emotions was the only way to save Gavius and herself, but fighting back the terror that pulsed through her took every ounce of courage she could muster. Raising her hand to catch the attention of Bromidus, she smiled for a second time. It was such a disarming smile and so out of context that the giant hesitated.

  “Please stop,” said Julia in the tone a mother uses with a slightly mischievous child. “I am not an agent of Sulla. I have come to offer you great riches. Sulla has nothing to do with anything I am about to tell you. Please listen to what I have to say, you will not be disappointed.”

  All in the tavern wondered what the mysterious man in the hood could have said to change things so completely. Bromidus removed his blade from the fat man throat and slowly sat down staring at the person as though hypnotized. They were amazed to see only red welts left by his loosening grip on the neck of the fat man who lay sniveling on the wine-soaked table. They had expected to see a deep and bloody cut; none had ever seen their chief back down before.

  There can be no doubt that Julia saved the life of Gavius with just a second to spare but since she had been the one who endangered it in the first place she knew he felt no gratitude. She added quickly, “You smuggle olive oil into Rome from other countries.”

  Bromidus looked immediately back at Gavius with a stare that could kill but before he had time to speak or lunge with his dagger Julia went on. “Gavius didn’t tell me, I surmised it for myself. I made him bring me here under threat of reporting him for smuggling.”

  Her bravado was being tested to the limit; Julia was in completely over her head. Fooling Marius was as nothing in comparison with the predicament she found herself in now. Raising that smile took the last of her courage and insecurities were now washing over her in waves. Julia’s life was in great danger, Bromidus could kill them both with no consequence and the thought of it jangled at her nerves. She must maintain her calm if either of them were to survive this night but she simply had no skills for coping with the nightmarish world in which she had found herself.

  All three hushed as a hefty-looking waitress placed fresh beakers of un-watered wine before them and Julia took her first-ever sip of alcohol simply to create time in which to think. The initial feelings of light headedness caused even more panic until these were replaced by the sudden exhilaration of a warm self-confidence.

  Gulping more down Julia felt both resigned to her fate and more capable of achieving anything because the wine was strong and it bolstered her confidence while reducing her fear. Quite miraculously her ever-present insecurities began to evaporate as Bromidus brought her attention back from the discovery of fake confidence.

  “What is your proposition?” he asked.

  Julia took another deep gulp of wine. “My guess is you know how to get ships past the pirates on the great ocean.” Julia was both surprised and delighted to hear the strength inspired by wine could be clearly heard in her voice. “My second guess is that the pirate blockade is well organized to keep prices inflated in Rome.”

  “You can guess all you want but what’s your proposition?” Bromidus was clearly annoyed about losing the upper hand to a mere girl.

  Julia felt strong. “My proposition is simple. I will provide you with all of the oil and wine that you can sell if you can bring it to Rome past the pirates.”

  “Go on.”

  “That is as much as I can tell you now, can it be done?”

  “Anything can be done.” Bromidus was skeptical. “Where will the oil and wine come from?” he used an aggressive tone in an attempt to regain control.

  Now completely composed Julia replied, “Hispania.”

  “Hispania? Nothing has come out of Hispania for years the country is in a total mess.”

  “That is about to change, are you interested?”

  “How do we get the oil?” Bromidus was plainly very interested.

  “I will have a plan for you in due course until then all I want you to think about are galleys and getting them past the pirates. I also want all other traders prevented from delivering anything from Hispania.”

  “What volume of oil are we talking about?” Bromidus was by now openly fascinated by the new resolve of the girl.

  “The question of volume has not yet been answered however it will be significant and we will need at least ten galleys plying the route regularly.” Julia drank more wine between sentences to recharge her confidence and sure enough self-esteem arrived with every swig.

  “Ten galleys that’s a lot of oil?” Bromidus spoke respectfully and he was hating himself for it.

  “There will be wine wheat, flower, spices and I believe citrus fruits as well.”

  “Rome needs oranges.” Now Bromidus spoke with a hint of levity. By the Gods, now he was behaving like a puppy for her.

  Noticing his change Julia was inwardly relieved but without acknowledging his cordiality she continued in a tone which meant business. “Gavius will provide you with the details; I will never return to the Subra and therefore will never see you again. From now onwards Gavius will be the link between us. You will need the galleys within six months so start preparing now.” With that Julia rose from her seat clasped her hood to her face and turned to leave.

  “Wait!”

  Believing that her fledgling attempt at asserting control had failed Julia’s heart sank as she turned reluctantly back to face the ox.

  Signaling across the room to the two men who had been forced to leave his table Bromidus added, “I will send these men with you to the edge of the Subra, a lot of people get killed here every night.”

  I have power thought Julia enthusiastically but hiding her exhilaration she replied politely, “That is most kind.”

  “Not kind, I am protecting a business investment nothing more.” Then looking hard at Julia Bromidus added a sentence which shook her to the core. “You have the appearance of an angel but the heart of a lion. You are not a killer but you are capable of causing the death of many men.”

  Trembling imperceptibly Julia turned to follow her escorts from the tavern unable to acknowledge his words. Silently walking home beside the weeping Gavius she could not come to terms with his observation. A cause of many men’s death was certainly not how she saw herself she was an ordinary young woman merely a victim of circumstance. It may be well hidden from others but deep down she was still the vulnerable little girl Sulla had brought to Rome.

  Marcus

  After her terrifying trip to the Subra, Julia realized how little she knew about the real world and this lack of knowledge presented itself as something to be feared. It left her feeling more vulnerable than she had ever been and something had to be done in order to fill in the gaps. The only way she could think of doing this was to converse with the repulsive men she had seen in the tavern but confronting such people was not something Julia knew how to do. Steeling herself with liberal quantities of strong wine and the thought of acquiring her beloved “lions” Julia forced herself to confront her fears and spent weeks piecing together the relationship between Bromidus, the black-market and the pirates.

  Her most effective method of information gathering was to simply follow the various men who delivered oil to Gavius until it was possible to engage one in conversation. If he stopped at a tavern Julia sat hooded beside him and shared jugs of wine purchased with money borrowed from Gavius. If he stopped at a market stall she would simply bump into him, it wasn’t hard for a young woman to meet a man.

  Her meetings were interspersed with idle chitchat to avoid making the men suspicious and her enquiries were always innocently crafted to fill in specific gaps in her knowledge, and as time went by Julia noticed that her flirtations clearly made men feel special. She also noticed that regular conversations gave her the practice she required to become the character she had to play every day.


  One of these unsophisticated, love-starved men who went by the name of Marcus turned out to be a mine of information and Julia quickly realized that she could use her now finely tuned character and his weakness for strong drink to play him like a fish on a hook. As long as she baited the line with jugs of wine he seemed powerless to resist her questions. The more Julia poured the more he spoke until one day he let slip that he had spent many years at sea with Bromidus and Julia set about prizing the details from his alcohol-soaked memory. His interrogation took many drunken days and unlike the other men, who were sometimes guarded, wine removed all of his inhibitions. Information simply fell from his slurring mouth in completely reckless sentences and Julia took full advantage of his condition.

  Marcus, as it turned out, spent his time in the military like all young Romans and his service had been on the war galleys fighting at sea. He fought many battles in his six years in the service and was proud of them all but his last battle as a nautical legionary had been the one that changed his life forever. His trireme was sailing to Rome from Tarsus in Asia Minor carrying ten high ranking officers who were returning for leave.

  Not even halfway through the journey they were unlucky enough to sail directly into the path of a rebellious Syrian battle fleet. Caught in a downwind position with no sails up their only source of propulsion were the slaves working the oars below decks. By the time the crew turned the vessel and raised the sail the Syrians were upon them and all was lost.

  Slurring as he spoke Marcus recalled the screams from below decks as the Syrian ships slammed into the oars snapping them like twigs. Julia was fascinated by his account of these unfortunate wretches who were chained to their rowing stations and smashed like rag dolls as the heavy oar handles flailed around with inconceivable force.

  “That same force must have knocked me out,” said Marcus in a sad voice, “because I woke up on a large piece of driftwood with no understanding of what happened. One moment I was fighting, the next adrift.”