Hawk

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by George Green


  Brutus sat on a wall nearby. Galba and Serpicus gathered around him to watch.

  Severus went straight up to the biggest docker, a huge man with a broken nose who was very comfortably stretched out on a big pile of nets. He was taking enthusiastic bites out of a blood-sausage big enough to feed a normal family for three days.

  ‘I would bet a month’s pay that that sausage is part of our stores,’ muttered Serpicus.

  Galba nodded. ‘Presumably they’re working on the idea that if they can delay loading the stores for long enough then they won’t have to do the job at all because they’ll have eaten everything.’

  ‘Just shut up and watch,’ said Brutus.

  Severus stood in front of the men and cleared his throat. ‘Who’s in charge here?’ he asked mildly.

  The big man carried on chewing rhythmically and made a motion with the sausage that might possibly have been an acknowledgement, might perhaps have been a dismissal, but was most likely a graphic mime of what the centurion could do with his question. Severus scratched his head with one hand. His shoulders were slumped and the deeply sun-browned skin of his scalp showed through his sparse silver hair. He looked like someone’s grandfather dressed up in his old legionary’s uniform for a veteran’s parade. He spoke to the big man, still using the mild tone.

  ‘Do I take it that you’re the foreman of this group?’

  The sausage jerked sideways again. ‘Piss off, old man, we’re busy,’ the big man growled, confirming the dismissal possibility. He belched loudly in a way that made you very glad you weren’t down wind of him.

  ‘You’re the one who’s in charge of getting the Juno here loaded, yes?’ Severus said, moving to within arm’s length of the big man, still scratching his scalp. The sun was now behind him and the foreman couldn’t see his face. He squinted up at Severus for a long moment, then took another bite from the sausage and closed his eyes again without speaking. There was a still silence, broken only by the sounds of chewing. The other dockers grinned at Severus and nudged each other.

  Then the foreman lifted a haunch and broke wind noisily and at length in Severus’ direction. Serpicus could swear that the whole lower edge of the old man’s cloak rippled in the breeze. Brutus sat up and looked at the situation keenly.

  ‘He might just regret doing that,’ he said.

  At which point Severus’ weight shifted slightly and he became a centurion again.

  The hand that was scratching his head formed a fist and his arm swung down with all his weight behind it. Some instinct warned the foreman far too late. His hands were coming up when the tightly clenched fist smashed onto his throat. The sausage flew through the air in a graceful parabola and landed at Serpicus’ feet, where two small dogs pounced on it and tore it apart between them. The big foreman made a terrible choking sound and rolled onto his side to face the centurion, both hands clawing at his shattered throat. Severus shifted his weight smoothly and his foot stamped down deep into the big man’s gut. Then he reached down, seized a handful of hair and dragged the retching man effortlessly up into a sitting position in front of his friends.

  The other dockers were still chuckling at the foreman’s treatment of the centurion when they were presented with the big man’s face as he gasped for air. His protesting voice was a shallow bubbling rasp through the blood that filled his mouth. He could hardly breathe.

  Severus held the foreman’s head up long enough for everyone to see clearly what had happened, then let go with an expression of distaste. The big man toppled slowly sideways to the ground and lay moaning hoarsely. Severus stepped over him and approached the dockers, who visibly retreated at his approach.

  The centurion spoke quietly but clearly. He leant forward, his posture relaxed but close enough to let them feel his presence.

  ‘Now, listen to me very carefully.’ He looked around so that they were all included. ‘You useless poxed motherfuckers are going to have every single sack of those stores carefully packed in the hold of that fucking boat by nightfall, or I will be back here and I will come looking for you.’ He leant forward a little further. ‘I never forget a face and I always find the people I’m looking for.’ He stood straight again. ‘So. Here’s the plan. I will return here tonight, with lots of soldiers, and that pile of stores will be on the boat. Not only will that be true, but you will all be standing here beside the boat, and then the soldiers and I will go on board with you and together we will all consult the stores manifest and compare it to what we’ve actually got on the ship. If there is anything not here that should be, then I will hold you all individually responsible for anything missing.’ He paused and looked at each man in turn, and then down at the big man on the ground. ‘And this fat warthog owes me a sausage at the least.’ Severus paused and looked from side to side at the group of men. ‘That’s the plan. I won’t be repeating myself after this, so let’s do the questions now. Is anyone not absolutely clear about what I’m saying?’

  The dockers looked at the moaning body on the ground. Some of them looked mutinous, others looked scared, but none of them would meet the centurion’s eye.

  ‘Good,’ said Severus cheerfully. ‘Now, before you start loading, I expect some of you will want to nip back to your beautiful homes to collect the items belonging to us that you’ve no doubt been looking after on our behalf. They no longer require your personal protection and can be brought back here without fear. The rest of you can start shifting the stores onto the ship straight away.’ He stepped back and looked down again. ‘Oh, and somebody should probably make sure this pig doesn’t die.’ Serpicus could hear the big man’s breathing from where he sat.

  Severus walked away without looking at them. Brutus jumped down off the wall.

  ‘I don’t know about you,’ he said with a smile, ‘but I’m going to see if I can buy that old man a drink.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  To Aelius Sejanus, from his Servant:

  Our agents report that the departure of the Juno has been successfully delayed. The expedition will depart on the morning tide. I have already left Rome and am preparing to put the next stage of your plan into effect. The necessary people have been contacted and the appropriate arrangements made for the arrival of the Juno.

  The night before they left Ostia, Severus gathered all the men together in a dockside warehouse that belonged to Blaesus. A couple of wineskins were passed around, and there was good fresh bread, olives and a huge well-hung sausage, blood-red with rare-cooked meat and laced with as much garlic as anyone could stand. They were in a good mood, filled with the expectancy that new comrades and the anticipation of the unexpected bring. Severus stood up in front of them.

  ‘We’re leaving tomorrow, so pack your things tonight and be ready at dawn.’ This wasn’t a surprise, but there was a low hum of satisfaction. Severus waited for it to die down.

  ‘We’ve been training together long enough to get to know each other. I selected you myself and you haven’t let me down.’ He paused. ‘Well, some of you could wash a bit more…’

  The men laughed at this, and one legionary in particular named Monobazus was pushed about roughly by his friends.

  ‘…but as soldiers, fighting men, I couldn’t have asked for more.’ He put both hands on his belt. ‘So, let’s be clear what’s going to happen.’ He paused and looked around. ‘We’re going to Germany.’

  A rustle of conversation started. Severus raised his voice and cut across it.

  ‘Yes, Germany. As some of you may already have heard, there is an uprising of some sort up there at the moment. The Seventh, Eighth and Tenth Legions are marching north to sort it out.’ Severus smiled. ‘Those of you who were in the Tenth with me will know that the rebels are in for a nasty surprise.’ Serpicus could hear the pride in Severus’ voice. Several of the men sat up straighter too. Severus smiled in the direction of Monobazus and went on. ‘And for those of you who don’t know the Seventh, if I tell you that Monobazus was in the Seventh, and they considered him to be a b
it of a girl because of the amount of washing he was always doing, you’ll appreciate that the rebels will be getting more than one nasty surprise when that lot appear upwind of their doorstep some fine morning.’

  There was a lot more laughter, and the fragrant Monobazus was pushed around a lot more, treatment he took in good part.

  Severus called the room to order with a look.

  ‘So. Let’s get it straight right now what our job is. The Germans will have their hands full with the legions, they won’t have time to worry about us. We are going to have nothing to do with any revolts or whatever else may be taking place in Germany. Our job is to go to a village called Gelbheim, collect a wagon and come home. Straight in, grab it and straight out again.’

  ‘Just like that,’ said one of the soldiers.

  ‘Yes, just like that,’ said Severus, ‘and if you interrupt me again I’ll come down there and rip your balls off.’

  Everyone laughed, including the man who had spoken.

  Severus looked serious again. ‘I want everyone to be very clear on this before we go. We are not going there looking for a fight. Everyone comes home, all right?’ The listening legionaries smiled at the old soldier’s maxim. Severus looked serious. ‘But we have to be realistic. There is a war on just now, or something like one, and we’ll be walking through the middle of it. We’re obviously not Germans and we aren’t soldiers either, so no one will trust us and we’ll do the same for them.’ He looked around. ‘So this isn’t a simple animal hunt, and there may be trouble. You will be well paid for this, but you may not think it’s worth it. If so, you should leave now, you’ll be paid for the time you’ve trained here and no more will be said.’ He looked round, looking at every face individually. ‘But hear me now. If you stay after tonight, you are in, no going back. I expect your full commitment. Now’s your chance.’

  He stopped and waited. Everyone looked around. No one got up to leave.

  Severus looked satisfied. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘From here on, everyone is a fully paid-up member of the expedition, and I own your ragged behinds until you’re dead or the job is done and we’re safe home, whichever comes first.’

  Scipio cleared his throat. ‘So, what’s it all about?’

  Severus shook his head. ‘No need for you to know at the moment, and it’s important word doesn’t get out. For now, all you need to know is that we’re marching north into Germany. Soon as we get anywhere close I’ll tell you what’s going on.’

  There was a pause. Monobazus put his hand up. ‘Um, aren’t the Alps in the way?’ he asked.

  Severus grinned. ‘And they say education is wasted on idiots.’ Everyone laughed. ‘Bring clothes to wrap up warm, all right?’

  Scipio put up a hand. ‘May I ask who the commission has come from?’

  Severus hesitated, and looked around. Serpicus took a step forward.

  ‘I can’t tell you that and I can’t tell you exactly what the job is either, because, as Severus said, if word gets out then the whole damn thing goes down the Cloaca Maxima, unhappy client, no one gets paid. However, I can assure you that the client is an important man. Very important. If we pull this off, we could all be set up for a long time.’

  The men looked around, grinning at each other. They’d forgotten the Alps already.

  ‘Right, let’s get some sleep,’ snapped Severus. ‘We leave with the tide tomorrow.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  To Aelius Sejanus, from his Servant:

  The expedition has arrived in Genoa. The crossing was calm and event-free.

  There are twenty soldiers with Serpicus. Most of them are Romans and in my estimation can be relied on to support the legitimate authority when their options are presented to them in the right way. The centurion Severus is harder to judge, but I shall have opportunity to assess his loyalty during the journey, and like all men he will no doubt seek to preserve himself. In addition to Serpicus are the boy Decius, the Thracian, Galba, and the other German confederate, Brutus. These four cannot be trusted.

  The men have not yet been told what the purpose of their adventure is. They are impressionable and excitable. It will not be difficult to stir them up when the time comes.

  The expedition leaves shortly for Germany. I have been in contact with our agents on the way, and the arrangements are being made.

  Genoa was not as big as Rome and its port was nowhere near as big as Ostia, but it was big enough to take all the largest galleys in the Imperial fleet at once, and it was an important transit point for goods and people from the mainland to Rome, so it was always busy. Two huge breakwaters curved around the circular harbour like the horns on the head of a stag-beetle, and there were close-packed ranks of ships of every size and description along the inside of both of the horns.

  The expedition arrived as the sun was losing its strength. The Juno crept into the harbour against an unfavourable tide and slipped into the one remaining space left on the temporary holding pier. It seemed that there wasn’t room to spread a cloak without hitting a ship, packed together in both directions like a huge pontoon bridge. Brutus and Serpicus walked down to the small hut that acted as the administrative centre of the port. Decius, who had been seasick for most of the completely calm voyage, caught up with them as they got there. Once the ship had tied up he had jumped into the water to clean off the sweat of the previous three days, dried himself, dressed, and run after them. He appeared at Serpicus’ side as they applied for a berth for the ship.

  The harbour-master, a squat man with a legionary’s tattoo on his left forearm and a deep purple scar running the length of his face, was sitting at a desk outside the hut. The table was overflowing with papers and slates, and a further sea of rolls of parchment surrounded him and lapped at his ankles. He looked up at them with frank dislike.

  ‘You want a berth.’ It wasn’t a question.

  ‘Yes, please,’ Serpicus said brightly.

  He sighed heavily. ‘Of course you do. Every bugger in the Mediterranean wants me to give them a berth today.’

  He didn’t say anything else, but went back to puzzling over a heavy roll of parchment. They waited. He carried on reading. They carried on waiting. Brutus cleared his throat in a way that Serpicus had heard before, and so moved in order to be close enough to get in front of him if Brutus decided he had had enough. He was going red in the face in a way that always meant trouble for someone. Serpicus had a vision of the harbour-master floating in the harbour below them, surrounded by his desk and all his papers, while Brutus worked to uproot the hut so that he could throw that in after him too. Serpicus shook his head hastily and held up a finger to indicate that he was giving the scarred man one more chance. Brutus subsided slightly and Serpicus cleared his throat. The harbour-master put a gnarled finger on his place on the document and looked up at him irritably. Serpicus fought down the feeling that Brutus had probably had the right idea, and smiled winningly.

  ‘So?’ he said.

  ‘So what?’

  Last chance, he thought, and then he would let Brutus do his worst. ‘So, do we get a berth or not?’

  The harbour-master sighed the sigh of the deeply and unjustly put-upon and looked past them out over the mass of ships at anchor.

  ‘There aren’t any berths left anywhere near the centre. You’ll have to go over there.’

  They looked at where he was pointing.

  ‘Is that place even in the harbour?’ said Brutus, squinting as he peered towards the horizon. ‘Why not chuck us back into the ocean and be done with it?’

  ‘Don’t tempt me,’ growled the harbour-master. He then growled quite a lot more, about how it was a public holiday and half his staff were off, how a dozen boats had come into the harbour after a storm and were still being repaired so he couldn’t shift them even if he wanted to, which he did but there it was, and how, while he was sure Brutus’ and Serpicus’ mothers cared deeply about them, the problem of getting their one small boat settled in a satisfactory berth seen against the ta
sk of organizing the entire harbour was truly as the dust under his feet, as far as he was concerned. He hoped that his meaning was plain. The nearest available place for the Juno to tie up was next to the far point of the right-hand horn of the harbour, and they could take it or leave it. Either way, there was nothing else he could offer them so they could now stop bothering him and fuck off so he could get on with his job.

  Serpicus turned and had a quick look around the harbour while Brutus carried on arguing the toss with the tattooed man. Looking around, Serpicus couldn’t, in fairness, see a spare berth anywhere other than where the harbour-master had shown them, but of course fairness to the harbour-master had nothing to do with it. Serpicus turned back and added his voice to that of Brutus. Everyone was getting close to losing their temper when Severus walked casually up the pier and stood behind the harbour-master. For a moment Serpicus thought the centurion was going to deal with the harbour-master as he had dealt with the foreman on the dock at Ostia, but instead Severus folded his arms and shook his head with a sad smile on his face.

  ‘Jupiter,’ he said, ‘if they’ve started to give grown-up responsible administrative jobs to a reprobate camel-fucker like this one, then the Empire truly is heading to hell in a dung-cart quicker than I would have thought possible.’

  The harbour-master whirled round and dropped into a fighting crouch. Severus beamed down at him. ‘How are you, Graptus, you old fart?’ he said, in an affectionate tone Serpicus hadn’t heard him use before. The harbour-master stood up and his scarred face split into a smile.

  ‘Severus? Is it you?’

  Severus smiled back in a way that admitted it was him, and the scarred man let out a yelp of pleasure and jumped forward and seized his arm in both tarred hands.

  ‘What are you doing here? I heard that you were dead.’

 

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