Insurgent of Rome

by Ken Farmer

  Just as Rome had its seaport at some distance from its walls, thus also did Athens. The harbor of Piraeus was about thirty stadia away from the city and there they tied up to the main wharves, waiting for the summons from Barsa to bring servants and guards from his new household.

  It was about the eighth hour, with four remaining until darkfall, when their passenger made ready to depart, his chests now on a cart surrounded by a multitude of menials. Barsa waved to the crew, all resting on the deck, the sail limp and dangling, now doing no work other than providing shade. He turned and called to an overdressed lackey - his Steward, it appeared - who immediately strode along the wharf to give a bag to his master.

  "My gratitude cannot be expressed in gold, Kapetánios Clavius - both for the safety of my family and now, myself."

  He attempted to hand the bag to the Captain, who frowned and said, "You have already made payment for the voyage. And in full."

  "Aye. But, as you say, that was for the voyage only." Again he held out the bag, then set it to the deck. "This is for your demonstrated sense of honesty. Few Kapetánios - and I include those of my land - would have failed to give in to their temptation of becoming wealthy with the simple act of cutting my throat and sailing off into the distance. The gold is nothing to the value of my life - and that of my family. Nay... Let me finish. Know you that should fate give an ill turn to your life, you will have a berth in my household to the end of my life."

  Now he grinned. "If you wish to stop in Athens for a while, to give rest to your arms after such labor on my behalf, my house and table and amphorae are yours. I can pledge that your men - and yourself, if wanted - will be as limp rags after resting with the sirens of my land, that I can obtain from the finest brothels in the city."

  Now the Captain bowed. "My gratitude, good Barsa. And it pains me to refuse your hospitality - indeed even knowing that my men will be in foul moods at my denial of the pleasure that you give promise. But... I have need to seek out a missive in Rhodes, in the service of my family. Thus, I give you farewell and good journey."

  With bows all around, the passenger departed, and soon the party - almost a caravan in size, it seemed - began their short journey to Athens.

  "Patroclus!" The Sage hurried up to stand before the Captain. "Stow this below and measure out a night's purse for all." Any profits on a voyage were split equally among the crew, but with the bulk stowed below and only light weight in their purses at any one time. The Captain had no desire for their forays into a port city - meaning to the taburnae and brothels - giving requirement for him to find new men to replace any found by the port watch on the morning light - men missing both heavy purse and life.

  Upon reaching their home port of Capua, the bulk would be placed with the senior of the household - actually, the Dominus of Clavius, his elder brother Aulius - and would be put in use to build even more wealth. Any crewman could depart the ship at will, gaining his stored riches without argument and either in coin or - more wisely - a tablet of deposit to be redeemed only when he reached his destination or need. Over the years and three generations of roving members of the Clavius family, many loyal crewmen, finally admitting that their count of seasons was excessive for the toil of a young man's work on a vessel, found his rest with a taburna, cookery, merchantry, farm or such, bought with the gold earned over the many voyages.

  As to Julius, the Captain, gold was mere ballast, useful to purchase shipboard needs and the occasional femina in a portside brothel, but his need was for new places, far sights and lands unknown. Only the requirements of his duties as Arbitrator for his family kept him from sailing through the Pillars of Hercules to as far as the waters would float his ship.

  And at the present he had such a requirement. Around the Great Sea, the family had agents in every major port, and even if no pressing need was present for the Petrel to stand into that harbor in passing, they would at least touch for fresh water and provisions. The agent would be queried for any messages that had arrived by another ship of the family. Mayhap there would be nothing, or merely a missive from his Mother, giving her thoughts, as such have done since the beginning of time, to sons far away. Or, on occasion, a need for action would be presented.

  Between times of such action, the Petrel was free to roam where the desire of the Captain should take it. Such was the reason for their last commission. A casual stop in the port of Salona months gained the attention of the merchant Barsa in his need to transport his family to Athens in his fear of the future. Thus their double voyage just completed.

  At the disappearance of their passenger, Barsa, along the road with his melange of attendants, the Captain called the men together. "Patroclus will stay in assistance with me for plot of our next course." He pointed. "Ngozi. You will take escort of Densus to gain fresh supplies. Judoc will scrub the water barrels as Flavius finds a water-wagon for refill. And make sure of the freshness of the barrels before you hand over your coin. Afterward, all may have the evening and night for your pleasure." He looked at the Greek before saying, "If you intend to take ship with this crew then visit the Agora and find a bowsmith. Kaeso will assist to find a bracer and such that you will need." He looked at Melglos with a wry smile. "Your long sword has less reach than needed for a reaver that is in approach." Then to all, he said, "We sail in the morning light, if the wind holds."

  Chapter 4

  The voyage to both the city and island of Ródos - Rhodes to a man from Latium - was quickly done, being only about four thousand stadia or less, and with the wind in agreement with their course. The port was lessened in importance from its past as a trading center, with the Romans in competition and avoidance of a competitor, but it was still a viable destination for many routes along the eastern reaches of the Great Sea. The Petrel had nothing to vend, but only made stop for converse with the agent of the House of Clavius.

  The meeting was short, consisting only of the passage of a small scroll to Julius from the man, with one delivered to be given to the next vessel departing for Capua, then a return to the ship. With little need for provisioning after the short voyage from Athens, he gave orders for the ship to stand out of harbor, only a pair of hours after their arrival.''

  As the ship pushed away from the wharf, Julius said to Patroclus, "Give us a course to Antioch."

  "Antiocheía?" The navigator nodded, already on deck with map scroll in hand. "Aye, that is done with ease." To Judoc on the rudder, he called, "Give a handspan to the dexter side from east." He unrolled his long map, merely glancing at the familiar area in discussion. "About a hundred leagues, or less." Julius made the reckoning to more familiar distances - about three thousand stadia. A few days even with contrary winds. Then the Sage asked, "Might one ask of our charge?"

  The Captain replied, "A merchant of the family has brought notice that the agent of the port has vanished."

  With raised eyebrows, the old navigator said, "Again?" A moment of thought, then, "Was it not just last season that another ship called to find the merchantry empty and abandoned, with even the scribes and servants gone?" Another pause, then a feeble jape, "Apparently the wage given by the house of Clavius is insufficient for the labor."

  Julius just responded with a wry smile, deep in thought himself. Such was not the case, he knew. Agents were carefully selected and remunerated with not only a goodly wage, but a portion of the proceeds of their labor. It was unlikely for any to just abandon such a position for return to some scribery as an overworked and under-compensated scrivener.

  Still, there was little need to make designs for action, without even the barest knowledge of need. Such would have to wait until they stood into Antioch. For now, he just relaxed in a wicker chair next to the tiller, watching the efforts of Kaeso in teach of his new pupil.

  They had left Capua short a man in the crew. Sextus, an Etruscan born somewhere north of Rome, had finally given admittance to what all on the ship had realized for a considerable time. His age and stiffened sinews were no longer sufficient for the t
ask that he had held for many years. With much regret - and flowing wine - the crew gave him farewell as he walked across the boarding plank for the last time. With his wages stored up over a lifetime of work, and on deposit with the Clavius enterprise, he would settle in a goodly and comfortable house, no doubt with a fat wife for cook, and spend his nights in the local taburna, trading expanded tales with other oldsters of the sea.

  Melglos was a large man, and well sinewed, capable of pulling any bow to extent and holding stance for the needed time, but... Bowmanship can be learned, but to become a marksman of ultimate skill requires a lifetime of practice, and beginning at an early age with a sapling bow, likely using a stolen hair ribbon of a sister for the string. The little weapon soon becomes the bane of both siblings and servants, the blunt shafts impacting with some pain, and usually on the buttocks of the mark, with the young archer instantly disappearing into the maw of the house ahead of any retribution.

  Still, a man can learn the bow sufficiently to gain proficiency in battle, without becoming as the son of Diana, the goddess of hunting. As in any other skill, such competency is only obtained with much work and use. Both Julius and Judoc, the man from some village far to the north of Latium, were consummate archers, but the remainder of the crew were sufficient enough in their bowmanship to have given pause to many approaching reavers. They could not mark down a man at distance unless with a chance shot, but as any pirate vessel approached, the decreasing distance gave increasing accuracy to their shafts. With the Sage holding the rudder, and six men raining arrows into a mass of row-men, the Captain of the reaver usually gave decision to find an easier mark.

  Indeed, many such sea rovers turned away before entering into the rain of wood that would come at a closer approach, seeing the large streamer that was raised to the mast heights at their approach. The waft - merely a large piece of old sail-cloth - was emblazoned with two thick bars of black, reaching to opposite corners, making the Roman character X. The symbol had no meaning, being chosen for its simplicity in making, and to give good identification of the Petrel. Few reavers, recognizing the ship that they had once approached in assail, would attempt such again.

  Still, the need for such defense was rare. Galleys almost never left the sight of land and the Petrel - seldom with any cargo of weight - could show her heels to any other sail-ship on the water.

  But, to be allowed as crew on the ship, a man must have sufficient skill with the bow to assist at need. As a pirate ship would have twice or thrice the men of the Petrel - and a galley with a far greater count - any attacker must be held at bay. To allow a mass of men to board against the handful, would have only one result, despite any blade-skill of the attacked.

  For the part of an hour, the Greek shot the ragged practice shafts the length of the ship, into the doubled bales of straw, with only a few escaping the ship to fall into the water. He was using an ordinary bow, of indifferent worth and purchased in a smithery of Athens. In a month of exercise with the bow, the man would be able to drop arrows into an oncoming galley with goodly skill, even if not able to mark down individual rowers. Only then would he be given one of the superb Scythian weapons as fledged crewmate.

  Finally, Julius nodded to his First Mate, who waved the Greek to stand down from his practice. The Captain knew well of the first days of bow-learning and that fingertips would soon be raw from the unaccustomed use. Once the hardness developed at the ends of the extremities in a few days, then the drill could be extended in time.

  Waving for Melglos to join him on the after deck, he pointed to the jug and an empty cup. As the Thracian sat on a mat of reeds, the Captain said, "You seem to have greater skill than a mere Tyro of stringed weapons would exhibit." It was a question, even if not worded as such.

  The man nodded, setting the unstrung bow on the deck, then filling his cup from the jug. "I was given acquire of a bow from a forest reaver after an ambuscade on a caravan to..." A moment of thought with a frown, then, "I disremember the happening, or even the road, but it was only a whimsy of the moment and he no longer needed the weapon, nor complained about my taking." He waved the cup vaguely toward the horizon. "While waiting for another berth for my guard-skills, I made practice with the bow to give passing of the time. Eventually, the shafts were lost or broken, and my time in that city ended with another employ to a caravan. In the dense forests of Thrace and Macedonia, the bow has little use and I gave no further regard of it." He smiled. "Aye, there is nothing in my memory to even tell me what happened to the weapon after my brief use."

  Now he pointed the cup at the Captain. "Kaeso gives that you are as the son of Apollo with the weapon."

  From behind the man came a voice, and with much drollness. "Your Greek god gives wish that his son could have even a modicum of the eye and aim of our Capitaneus." The Thracian turned to see Patroclus, crossing his legs to sit heavily beside the man. Taking another cup from the woven basket of such, then reaching for the jug, the old Greek continued, "He comes from a family of such - indeed, from an ancestor that even now has tales in the sagas of Rome of arrows that flew for a stadium or more to strike down even a running foe."

  "Aye. The tales in my land likewise grow with the passing years." The Thracian said the words with no hint of derision.

  The Sage shook his head. "And you would be correct. I have seen sagas in many lands grow overlarge even in far less time than years. But..." He waved to the Captain. "But few of those are attested by a myriad of scrolls of men in seeing, and even from the scriberies of the far lands. His ancestor, Myron of the House of Clavius, once conquered the city of Titani with only a hundred men, storming the palace and slaying the leader in single combat. The martial blood runs deep in his family."

  Now the Thracian looked at the Roman sitting in front of him. "And your skills naturally flow from that far ancestor." Again, it was just a question without hint of derision.

  The Captain gave a wan smile. "I have the same distrust of the tales as yourself, although my Grandmother would have given no small wrath at any denigration of the skills of her mate. And, indeed, the taking of the city of Titani is well attested in the scrolls of the bibliothecae of Rome, but as to the firmness of the tales, only the gods can see back to that time and the truthsomeness of such. But, I give admit that I have more than a little skill with weapons - whether from my own being or that of some forebearer." He waved his cup gesture of reflect. "But, the skirmishes of life are not won by ancestors, despite the fearsomeness of their memory, but by the skill of the man."

  Antiocheía, or Antioch to a man of Latium, was a young city, located at the far northeast corner of the Great Sea. Younger even than Rome, itself not an ancient entity, it had been founded by a general of the great Alexander and rapidly became one of the most important seaports in that region. Of course, no man on board of the Petrel, besides the Sage, knew of any past history of such, or cared, but all were familiar with the port of the city - and especially of the taburnae and brothels.

  It was an important source of cargo for the ships of the sea - and those of the House of Clavius. Precious dyes and odiferous woods, amber and salt, gold and silver and copper - such were just the partial list of lading that flowed out of the harbor of Antioch. The city was not under the suzerainty of Rome, although Julius suspected that such a fate would soon befall the citizens, but at the present was at the juncture of two realms, the other being the Kingdom of Armenia.

  Thus far, the ambitions of the two lands had not resulted in war, mostly for the reason of the distance between the pair, but such strife was not inhibited between merchants. Indeed, some of the actions between the gangs of the docks, in support of their masters, gave some resemblance to actual warfare. And in a city of such youth, the magistrates had much effort in refusing the offers and bribes of wealthy traders to give credence to certain desires and needs.

  And, as the Petrel tied up to the wharf, another reason for turbulence came to the fore. As the men were securing the ship, the Sage immediately return
ed from his short foray across the wharf with news of some import. "The King, Phillip, has passed to his death!"

  "Slain?" was the question from Julius.

  The old Greek shook his head. "Nay. It does not seem so. At least the speaking of the docks is that he did not wake from sleep." A pause for thought, then, "The city is likely in stance for a period of some unpleasantness. Either the Senate of Rome or Tigranes of Armenia will attempt to fill the emptiness and the filling is not likely to be without protest by the other."