by Nick Brown
‘It’s not just practice. My uncle explained it to me well when I first started. A hunter might follow his prey for hours, days even. He might only get one chance. If he misses, his family starves. It’s the same in battle – you learn how to make that chance count. Every time, or as close to it as you can get.’
‘But battle is so chaotic.’
‘It is if you let your enemies get close.’ Idan tapped the sling. ‘We prefer to fight from a distance.’
‘Perhaps you could show me how to use one if we get a spare moment. I was quite useful with a catapult in my youth.’
‘I think Kabir would prefer it if you concentrate on finding the girls. What happens after that you can leave to us.’
Idan glanced across the road and saw that the others were already preparing to leave. With a brief nod to Cassius, he went to join them.
‘Sir.’
Cassius turned to find Simo standing behind him.
‘Ah, there you are. Get a wheel of that goat’s cheese, would you? It’s really not bad.’
‘Yes, sir, I will, but I think we might have an alternative to continuing the journey on foot.’
‘Oh?’
‘These people travelled by river. They say there are many trading boats and that it’s possible to reach the coast in only three or four days. If there’s space, the captains will allow passengers aboard.’
‘The Sakarya meets the Chalcedon road not too far east of Nicomedia. From there it’s only a couple of days to Byzantium. We could save a day or two at least, not to mention a bit of money. Well done, Simo. Kabir!’
Cassius walked along the road towards the Christians. ‘Who did you talk to, Simo?’
‘This gentleman, sir. His name is Elder Nahir.’
The man – who was considerably younger than the other Christian leaders Cassius had encountered – stood.
‘Good day to you.’
‘Good day,’ said Cassius just as Kabir arrived.
‘Some interesting information.’ He turned to Nahir. ‘Simo tells me it’s possible to get passage downriver.’
‘Yes. And for a reasonable sum. There is not much shelter aboard but with a good captain it’s quick. The river is busy with trade this time of year – the last seagoing ships will be sailing from the ports before the worst of the winter weather sets in.’
‘Where are the nearest docks?’
‘About two miles downstream – a town called Karolea. Excuse me a moment.’ Nahir called over another man, who also spoke Greek and seemed to know the place well.
‘It’s not very big but there’ll be half a dozen or so boats tied up there for the night. I’d be surprised if you can’t get on one of them.’
‘Well, Kabir? The horses are tired and it’ll take time to find another for Yablus.’
‘A river? Couldn’t we be held up there too?’
‘Where are you headed?’ asked Nahir.
‘Byzantium.’
‘You’d save two days at least,’ came the confident reply.
‘It would give us a rest, too,’ said Cassius. ‘We’ve been on the move for so long.’
‘If you think it’s best,’ said Kabir.
‘I do. A chance to gather our energies. Make sure we’re at full strength when we need to be.’
‘Very well. I’ll tell the others.’ The Syrian crossed the road.
‘Thank you,’ said Cassius to Nahir. He then looked at the Christian men and women. ‘You’re heading south?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘To aid those afflicted by the pestilence.’
‘You’re not serious?’
‘Entirely,’ said Nahir. ‘I had a vision. The Almighty summoned me; told me that my fellow man was in need.’
‘There’s nothing you can do there. If you have food, they’ll rob you. All that will happen is that you will all be struck down too. Simo, did you tell him what we saw?’
‘I did, sir.’
Cassius ushered Nahir away from the others. ‘Listen to me. It is utterly pointless. All you will do is cause more suffering – to your own people.’
He would have preferred it if the man had argued. But there was a peacefulness about him of the type that only came from total conviction.
‘Sir, if some of us fall, it merely means we will enter the Kingdom sooner.’
Cassius could do nothing but shake his head. He didn’t see much fear in the Christians, just the usual blind optimism he had observed amongst these people before. He had seen the impermeable intransigence too; and he wasn’t about to waste time trying to change their minds.
‘Then I shall simply say farewell.’
Nahir shook the hand offered to him. ‘Farewell.’
Considering the small size of the town, the riverside area of Karolea was surprisingly well developed. Cassius imagined this was due to its position, nestled between the Sakarya and a wide tributary that ran south. They reached the water just before dusk, and tied the horses up at a sprawling stable built only a stone’s throw from the nearest wooden pontoons. Despite the dim light, Cassius counted more than a dozen masts; he hoped they would be able to find passage for the morning.
Two lads came out to greet them with a well-practised and polite welcome. Before they could lead the new arrivals inside, Cassius spoke. ‘Hold there. We’re here to sell – fetch your master.’
The lads exchanged a few comments in the local dialect then one sprinted towards a low building opposite the stalls.
It had already been agreed that the Syrians would sell the mounts while Cassius went to make enquiries. The more they’d discussed this new alternative, the more it made sense. The horses had been pushed too hard; it was only a matter of time before another one was injured.
Cassius noticed that Kabir was already unloading. ‘Don’t bother. The mounts can carry the gear down to the ship – the buyer can take them from there. And make sure you get every coin you can out of him.’
‘Sir, shall I come with you?’ asked Simo. He had already untethered Patch and was holding his reins. ‘They will sometimes take pack animals aboard, won’t they?’
Cassius had been too preoccupied with other thoughts to consider what to do with the donkey. ‘Ah. Well, sometimes. Let’s see.’
Simo sighed. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘Anyone care to accompany me?’ asked Cassius, who knew how rough any locale dominated by sailors might be.
‘I will,’ said Yablus. He passed his reins to Kammath then walked with Cassius along the riverside path. Here, a few stallholders and fishermen were packing up for the night. Beyond the shorter pontoons and the smaller boats – mainly punts and skiffs – were the larger galleys, some up to sixty feet long. A few were high-masted vessels much like seagoing ships. Those of the oar-driven variety tended to be more low-lying and squat. There was also a barge, identifiable by the towing post situated towards the bow.
Though a few crewmen were still completing jobs in the fading light, most of the activity was centred around the half dozen inns facing the river. One was particularly busy, with the strains of a song projecting from within and a group of men clustered around a pair of tables.
Cassius knew the likeliest source of information was the local harbour master or equivalent. The first man they spoke to understood neither Greek nor Latin. The second was far more helpful, which Cassius felt was at least in part due to the amount of wine he’d imbibed. Escorting the pair through the packed inn just as the song finished, he tugged on the sleeve of a man behind the counter.
‘This here is Chares, he knows more about the boats and the captains that come through here than any man alive. He’ll help you out.’
‘Thank you,’ said Cassius.
As the sailor belched and stumbled his way back towards the door, Chares finished serving a customer then leaned over the counter. He had almost to shout to be heard.
‘Where you headed, sir?’
‘Downstream as far as the Chalcedon road. I need a fast vess
el that will take six passengers.’
Before Chares could answer, a mug thudded down on the counter and a man barged into Cassius. The innkeeper glared at the fellow but it was Yablus’s intervention that did the trick. The stocky nomad tapped the interloper on the shoulder and gestured for him to move away. He didn’t need to be told twice.
‘Sorry, sir,’ said Chares, who – like any half-decent innkeeper – seemed to know a gentleman when he saw one. ‘Your best bet is probably Tolmai. He has a galley with space on deck and he charges a flat silver a day per man. I saw him come in this afternoon. He’s been on this river his whole life and there’s no one will get you there quicker.’
‘Excellent. Is he here?’
‘Not a chance. He likes the quiet life, does Tolmai. You’ll find him on-board – last pontoon. Word of advice though – if he does take you.’
‘Yes?’
‘Don’t get in his way – and don’t go anywhere near his daughters.’
There was in fact no sign of any females when they reached the galley: just a bearded fellow re-tying the warps that connected his vessel to the pontoon. Cassius introduced himself and found that he was talking to the captain himself. Tolmai continued working as they spoke and maintained a gruff tone throughout, questioning him about exactly who his travelling companions were and how much luggage they had. When the discussion was concluded, Cassius shook his strong, calloused hand. Tolmai informed him that they were free to sleep on deck: there would be plenty of space now that his other passengers had departed.
When the captain went below, Cassius heard several voices, one quite high-pitched. Tolmai returned with a lantern, which he hung from a pole above a square marked on the deck just ahead of the mast. The area was no more than ten foot by eight.
‘At night, you can spread out. By day, you stay inside the lines – that clear?’
‘Perfectly. How many days to the Chalcedon road, do you think?’
‘Depends.’
‘Five?’
‘Depends on what the gods have for us.’
‘But five is possible?’
‘Bring your own food,’ said Tolmai, turning away. ‘And make sure your bedding and luggage is tied up and secure before we get underway. We’ll leave three hours before dawn to catch the current.’
Cassius knew the answer to his question before he asked but he felt he owed it to Simo to at least try. ‘I don’t suppose you have any space in your hold for a donkey? He’s actually done a sea trip before and came through it rather well.’
Tolmai started chuckling and was still doing so when his new passengers reached the end of the pontoon.
Back at the stable, Cassius was relieved to find the Syrians had secured a decent price for the horses. The owner and his two young employees accompanied them on their way to the ship, during which time Cassius struck upon an idea that might spare Simo from a painful separation. He also admitted to himself that he didn’t like the idea of never seeing Patch again; he still looked forward to seeing the beast reunited with Indavara.
‘Now listen,’ he said, dropping back to speak to the owner as they neared the ship. ‘About the donkey. What do you consider a fair price?’
‘Eighty denarii.’
‘Right. We will entrust it to your care. You may use it but you must not sell it for a period of one year. If we return in that time, I will pay a hundred and twenty – but only if he is in good condition. If we do not return, he is yours. How does that sound?’
‘Fine with me, sir. I’ve got a water delivery contract – I’ll put him to work there.’
‘Carrying barrels?’ interjected Simo anxiously.
‘Skins mostly.’
‘That’s fine,’ said Cassius, ‘but do not overwork him.’
When they reached the ship and the others began unloading, Simo was more concerned with listing Patch’s existing ailments and dietary preferences. Unfortunately, the stable owner was more interested in taking charge of his valuable new horses.
Cassius helped his attendant remove their bags, then their saddles, which would also travel with them.
‘He’ll be all right, Simo.’
The Gaul did not reply; a highly unusual occurrence. Leaving Patch’s tack attached, he retrieved a sack of vegetable cuts he kept as treats and handed it to one of the lads.
While the Syrians hauled their bags down to the ship, the stable owner wished them a good trip and set off with his new acquisitions.
‘Wait a moment, would you?’ said Simo to the lad leading Patch. Simo put his face against the donkey’s and rubbed his neck. ‘There’s a good Patch. We’ll be back for you soon and Indavara will be with us. We’ll be back.’
Despite himself, Cassius came over and rubbed Patch’s ears one last time. ‘He’ll be fine. Don’t worry.’
Obedient to the last, the animal did not resist as the lad led him away into the darkness.
XXII
The galley glided down the river. The wind was from the east, filling the single huge sail and making the going easier. The captain and crew seemed relaxed, apart from the occasions when a change in the channel’s course demanded modifications to the rig or the breeze grew fluky in those areas where cliffs overlooked the water. The Sakarya was a pretty river, edged for the most part by forest that had not yet yellowed with the onset of autumn. In some areas, a blanket of water lilies stretched from one bank to the other. Though rarely less than forty yards across, the channel narrowed sharply at various points, sometimes taking the Adva close to treacherous outcrops of rock.
Many other boats were also heading downstream but none seemed to be travelling faster. As midday approached, they had still not passed a settlement as large as Karolea, though there were countless buildings and hamlets built close to the water.
Lying on his back, head against his saddle, Cassius felt sure he had made a sound decision. The days of endless riding had drained them; now they had a hope of arriving in Byzantium refreshed and renewed. He had little doubt that seeking out the mysterious group known as ‘The Earthly Gods’ would be exceptionally difficult, especially as he would again have to sacrifice subtlety for speed. But he had resolved to not think of it this day; or Indavara – if he could.
The Syrians also seemed keen to rest. Barely a word had been said since they’d been woken by the sudden outburst of activity from Tolmai and his crew. Watching curiously, they had stayed within the confines of their perimeter as the sailors cast off, used their oars for an hour or two then raised the sail. From what Cassius could gather, there were at least eight men aboard, all of whom worked expertly and quietly, with only Tolmai ever raising his voice. They had completely ignored the guests, as had the captain’s daughters. Though he’d done his best to appear disinterested, Cassius had watched the girls as they handed out wine and bread to the crew around the fourth hour. One looked to be seventeen or eighteen, the other closer to his age. The crew were notably polite and respectful towards them and Cassius could see why their father might often have cause to ward off suitors. Though she wore only a plain tunic, the older girl in particular was attractive: tall and slender, with a fine head of sleek, black hair. Like the sailors, she and her sister went about the vessel barefoot.
Cassius sat up and glanced towards the stern. Other than the four men holding guide ropes for the yard, he could see only Tolmai. The captain was holding the ship’s tiller, eyes fixed on the river ahead.
‘Hungry, sir?’ asked Simo.
Yablus groaned. Despite the calm water, he had been complaining about sickness since the first hour of the journey. Though Kabir and Idan appeared unperturbed, Kammath also seemed disturbed by their new environment. Cassius was not surprised to discover that Kabir’s people didn’t swim. Most Romans did not, so it was hardly to be expected of nomads who never neared the coast. Cassius’s father had always maintained an attitude born of familial service in both the army and navy: swimming was an essential skill almost as important as riding. During training, Cassius had seen m
any men struggle; it was very difficult to learn once one had reached adulthood. Similarly limited in this capacity, poor Indavara possessed a mortal fear of the water. Simo, however, had also been taught by his father, who hailed from a long line of fishermen.
‘I am a bit,’ Cassius told the attendant, who had done an excellent job of assembling all their gear into a single pile. ‘What do we have?’
Simo retrieved a sack from under his saddle. As he delved inside, a shift in the wind caused the sail to flap above them. While the sailors made adjustments, Cassius and the others all looked warily up at the yard. If it fell, they stood a good chance of being crushed.
‘Sir, we have dried apple, a few nuts, a roll – rather stale – and two of those sausages. I expect you’d like the fruit and the nuts.’
‘I would. And the roll. You’d prefer the sausages, I imagine?’
Simo had bought a dozen several days earlier and cooked them up. They were well spiced and tasty but Cassius suspected they were responsible for the rather liquid state of his bowels. The fruit wouldn’t exactly help but there was nothing else. He was hoping a proper meal would be available wherever they stopped for the evening.
While Simo poured two mugs of well-watered wine, the galley passed a cove where several lads were fishing with rods. They waved to the passengers. Yablus waved back.
By the middle of the afternoon, grey cloud had all but covered the sky and the wind had picked up, drawing a chop from the water. As the course of the river meandered, Tolmai elected to drop the sail and put his crew to the oars. From what Cassius could see, the men used a long, economical stroke that pushed them along well. In anticipation of rain, the captain had also sent two men forward to rig a cover for the passengers and their gear.
When the need to visit the vessel’s latrine became overpowering, Cassius walked carefully back along the deck. With the crew all below rowing, Tolmai was accompanied only by his family. His wife and the girls were sitting together, doing something to a sail with large iron needles and thick twine. All three were now wearing woollen shawls.