Insurgent of Rome

by Ken Farmer

  None were close enough to see the man and boy as they failed to turn to walk in either direction along the road, instead continuing on to the edge of the water. Here, behind a pile of rubbish, they were unlikely to be seen by any, even in the bright moonlight, and they settled to wait for their friends. Shortly, both Melglos and Ngozi appeared, and again without noticement by any nor followed by shouts of alarm.

  No longer needing to whisper, Julius said, "We will enter the water, wading along to the quarter of fishers and find a craft that will take us to the point."

  Chapter 9

  The voyage across the top of the Great Sea was without disturbance. The escape of the four had been without incident, locating a suitable craft long before the mid of night, then waiting until their departure would find them at the point of land at daybreak. There had been a moment of agitation when the elderly fisherman, woken from sleeping in his little skiff, found three men and a boy suddenly appearing from the dark. Quickly, and before the man could shout his startled alarm, Julius made offer, giving a gold piece from his purse that would have purchased every fisher in the quarter. The only requirement was that the man stay with the four until they stood out. Julius had no desire for the oldster to bellow his fortune to his friends, displaying both the gold and the knowledge of four men appearing from the dark.

  As ordered and expected, the Petrel was waiting - with some apprehension - when the torn and dirty sail of the little craft appeared out of the dawning light. With much shouting of gratitude to this god and that by the crew, the four were hoisted onboard and the ship turned to stand out to the west, the sail in full bellow.

  Even though the Petrel was in carry of several passengers, the ship was empty in comparison to its burthen capacity. The winds were fair, if not completely in unison with their need and the progress of the vessel was rapid. As Rhodes was directly on the path of the voyage, they stood in to that port to gain supplies - replacing those dropped into the street of Antioch in their need of haste in departure.

  Cambyses, the escaped slave that had been of much assistance, was given coin to purchase appropriate habiliments, replacing his ragged loincloth, and to obtain a berth on a vessel back to his city. Julius made check with their agent, receiving no waiting scrolls and leaving none. Within four hours of their standing in, the sail was pulled high and they stood out of the harbor and pointed west.

  Moving across the bottom of the Aegean Sea to pass the huge domain of Sparta, their course was far from land, giving little threat of galley-rowed pirates. A few ships were seen, but whether reavers or merchants could not be determined at distance. As they reached the southern end of the Ionian Sea, even those few encounters fell to nothing. The days were filled with talk and the interminable game of bones on the foredeck. The two ambassadors, given the forward cabin, kept to themselves, issuing to the deck only for the meals and need for relief.

  Pontiki, of course, gave consider to himself that he had entered the Elysian Fields early in life. He had no ruefulness in leaving the city of his birth - a place assumed by Julius to be of only memories of hunger and cold and beatings. Every day was new, and the anticipation of the morrow was as sweetmeat to his being. He sat with the man on the rudder, even giving hold of the wooden bar in semblance of pointing the ship, walked the bilge with Flavius in his continual search for leaks and for wood showing weakness, even giving assist with trim of the huge sail - the latter with hidden grins of the men to each other at the effort of the small boy to pull a rope that would fling him across the waters were it not held by a man. Of course, his main duties were as any youngster beginning his life on the waters - as ship's boy to the cook, Densus.

  "Will we stand into Capua, Capitaneus?" Kaeso had come to sit on the wicker chairs in the waist with his Captain.

  "Aye," came the reply. "After we deliver yon travelers to Rome." He gestured to the pair of ambassadors standing at the peak of the ship, apparently enjoying the evening coolness that preceded nightfall. "I will be gladsome to see my family also." He pointed to Flavius, leaning over the side of the hill, tapping with his small bronze hammer. "We will take the opportunity to careen the ship and have the hull scrubbed. So..." He smiled. "There will be much time for visiting."

  Turning the point of Latium, to squeeze through the narrow waters to reach the Tyrrhenian Sea, they encountered winds flowing directly from the north, effectively blocking their voyage until the eye of the wind gave change. Attempting to tack through a constricted and rock bounded strait was less than wise, even for a ship as nimble as the Petrel. After a morning of more sail and rudder juggling than progress, Julius pointed them into the port of Rheginum, at the bottom of the land of Latium, and the southern end of the narrows. There, at least, they could rest for the time needed, and with goodly taburnae and comfortable inns for their use.

  And thermae. Julius had seen many cities and civilizations around the Great Sea, even in the span of his fairly short life, but in none had he found the equivalent of the baths in the domain of the Romans. Every city of any size had such, from merely commonplace bathhouses with pools of stone to hold the waters, to spectacular and magnificent edifices of marble and tall columns. And all with the three pools of water at varying temperatures. Such would make for a wonderful evening after a month on shipboard.

  But, it was not to be. At least, not for the Captain.

  As they hove into the huge harbor of Rheginum, it was Ngozi who walked back to the stern platform to give point to Julius. "Yon is the family pennant on that spectrum boat."

  The black man had the eyes that would have been covetous to an eagle, even such that the Captain usually acted on any of his sightings without need of affirmation. Now he looked across the waters, filled with ships such as they, waiting out the end of the northern winds that they might move up the coast of western Latium. There, at the pointing of the hand was a small vessel, at anchor, and looking muchly familiar. At least the type, itself. Ngozi, in his broken Latini, meant speculatoria - a small and very fast vessel that was used by the family for delivering missives across the waters in great haste. Long, narrow and heavily ballasted, it had a large sail that could pivot to any point on the horizon. In light airs it could outpace even a galley a full stroke, and in a goodly wind it flew across the waters as the steed of Neptune.

  The dove-tailed pennant that marked the ships of the family, he could not quite make out, but had no reason to disbelieve the evidence of the eyes of his crewman. Turning to Judoc on the rudder, he ordered, "Make for yon long-boat there. Pass closely."

  The Gaul measured the course, then said, "In this wind, we will have to wear around for a stadium, Capitaneus."

  Julius nodded, shouting for the proper change of sail trim to be made, then again to give cancel to his orders as Ngozi suddenly said, "The boat has raised cloth. They are turning for us."

  In a while he saw - with little surprise - that the black man had been correct in his far-seeing. Indeed, the pennant was of his family. Such was not unusual - there were several such fast-boats in their fleet, and the chances of seeing one in this port or that was considerable over time. Obviously, the Captain of the speculatoria had recognized the Petrel and was closing for reason. And as the little boat was directly upwind, the closure was rapid.

  "Send the boy for my speaking trumpet." This to Ngozi, who turned to shout at Pontiki. To Flavius and Melglos, he called, "Pull the cloth to give minimum seaway."

  All watched, including the two men on board as passengers, as the small and nimble boat closed the distance rapidly, then turned to stand just off the sinister beam of the Petrel. A man - the Captain, without doubt - stood in the open boat and called, "Capitaneus Clavius!"

  "Aye," came the shouted return. With the minimal wind and closeness of the boat, the speaking trumpet was not needed.

  "We are carrying important missives for you. A sealed scroll."

  That was very interesting. The family had few secrets that could not be given to the trusted masters of their fleet. J
ulius nodded, thinking for a moment, then called, "Follow us into wharf." The man gave a salute with his hand, and both vessels pointed further into the harbor.

  The harbor was crowded, but they found a wharf allowing the Petrel to tie up with the speculatoria berthing outboard on the opposite side. Immediately, the Captain of the smaller ship held to a knotted rope as he was hoisted to the deck by strong hands. There was a line tied to his belt, and with it he quickly pulled a small leather bag from the outstretched hands of a crewman below. Saluting again, he said, "This was a fortunate encounter, Capitaneus. We stood in to examine the port, not expecting to see the Petrel on this side of Rhodes."

  Julius knew of Decimus, the young Captain, having responsibility for his employment. Still, he had not seen the man since his engagement to service. Now he asked, "When did you stand out of Capua?"

  The question was without actual meaning, as that city was not on the shoreline, being a hundred or so stadia from the sea. The port of the city was actually Neápolis, south and west by about the same amount. But, the query was understood in its meaning. "On the mid of yesterday."

  "You made goodly time, Capitaneus." Indeed they had. The distance was almost three thousand stadia.

  "Aye, but the wind was stiff and directly on our course."

  Nodding, then taking the offered bag, Julius said, "Wait until I give peruse to this scroll. Densus! Some wine for the Capitaneus." In his cabin, he left the door open to give more light than the small trap above would allow, then examined the scroll and the wax sealant. Not for any reason to believe that the Master of the speculatoria would have violated his trust, but just in wonderment at receiving such a missive from his brother. With a thumbnail, he slit the wax, then unrolled the papyrus and leaned back in his tiny chair to read.

  The crew of the Petrel, having secured the ship to the wharf, and Patroclus giving the docking fee to the tax magistrate, prepared to enjoy their first evening in many days by traversing the local brothels and taburnae. But firstly, Kaeso gave attempt to explain to their passengers the reason for the delay, finally calling Melglos to render his words to the ambassadors. Their tongue was Greek derived, but strangely bent to the ears of a Plebeian Roman. Finally, they accepted the fact that the wind gods gave no care to the demands of mortals, despite any protests in the need of haste.

  The assumption of the crew that this porting would be no different than any other was suddenly broken - nay, shattered as a wine jug dropped to the stones of the port road. Julius appeared, the scroll in hand - rather, with the wooden spindle in one and the shredded papyrus of the missive in the other. Tossing the wood over the side, then the fragments to flutter away in the wind, he called to the first mate. "Kaeso. Attend!"

  The man hurried up, although only a few steps beyond the mast. "I am leaving on the speculatoria. You will follow instantly the wind changes to allow you to clear the narrows, making best haste for Capua. I will meet you there." As to the ambassadors, they could take the diminished distance to Rome, further north along the coast, in another of the ships of the family - even in the speculatoria if none others were in port.

  The crew, standing as if having beheld the Gorgon, were obviously attempting to believe what their ears were giving to their senses. Now Julius said, "Nay, there is no tragedy in the family, or in Latium, but I am summoned for a need that even to myself is not entirely understood." To the Master of the small craft, he said, "Capitaneus. We will leave immediately." Looking around, he looked at the boy. "Pontiki. You will come with me."

  Book II

  Chapter 10

  "Master Julius! Praise the gods for your safe return." The Steward of the house of Clavius was effusive in his surprise at the entry of the second of the family.

  "Greetings, Virnius," was the reply. "Even wandering feet have a need to find their home again, on occasion." The Roman gestured behind him, at a young boy in accompaniment. "This is Pontiki, and a valued crewman of the Petrel. I would that you find him a room for our stay."

  The Steward made no comment, nor even a look of surprise at the command to give welcome to a mere boy. During the voyage from Antioch, Pontiki had been given instruction in the requirement of hygiene and would now be almost unrecognizable by his young friends, scrubbed and wearing a boy-sized tunic. The time had also allowed him to obtain a smattering of the Latini tongue - sufficient to make and understand needs, although far from fluency as yet.

  "Where is the Dominus...". The questions were stopped at the unusually rapid entry of the older Matron of the house - the Grand Domina - giving the effusive and open-armed welcome of mothers of every land. "Julius! Son!" After the squeezing hugs, she held him at arm's length, looking up and down, then saying, "Again, you have returned as a shadow of yourself. Surely the wage of your voyages must allow you to purchase food enough to at least keep you from wasting to nothing." She turned and ordered the Steward to find a goodly meal for the returned son.

  Julius was not hungry, but such lack of need had no meaning when confronted by a Mother in welcome of a long-absent son. He merely smiled, and said, "You are looking as resplendent as always, Mother. And how are Volumnia and Aedinia since my departure?" The only two surviving daughters had long married and departed the household, now Dominae of their own families. As they walked down the hall to the huge atrium, he gave attempt to listen as the Matron began her recitation of events in the last year, he even nodding at the mention of unknown or unremembered members of this noble family and that.

  Finally, she answered the first question given when he made entry in the foyer. "Aulius is at the Magistrature House, this day." That was the ruling body of Capua, a lesser Senate as it were. Now she remembered something, then gave another order to the Steward. "Send word to the Dominus that Julius has arrived. And with haste." To Julius, she said, "There was some urgency in your return - a matter of some noble family in Alba Longa. He was most insistent of being notified of your appearance."

  The wife of his brother, and now the Domina of the house of Clavius entered, to give her greetings, but not to stay, giving apologies for her need at a previous appointment in some other domain - no doubt a clatch of noble women for chattering discussion in some atrium in the city. Now, over a meal that he did not need, and was sufficient almost to feed the entire crew of the Petrel, he allowed his Mother to gush her speaking, done in response to the return of a son. Until his brother arrived, there was nothing for his need, anyway. The one-sided speaking was not all trifling - he was given knowledge of the changes in the city in his absence, the promotion or retirement of this official and the joining in marriage of a friend of his youth.

  Finally, there was a commotion in the long hallway and Julius rose to greet his brother hurrying into the atrium. There was the usual Roman clasp of arms, then Aulius said with some wonder, "By the gods! Mercury must have given lend of his winged shoes for your use. Capitaneus Decimus was only given the commission five days ago."

  The brothers had grown up with little of the usual sibling rivalry, mostly in cause of the complete difference in their beings. The elder had no use for travel and even less to find new horizons, where the younger could imagine no realm of Hades worse than being tied to an office and days filled with tablets and scrolls and contracts. Thusly, their desires complimented each other to wax the fortunes of the house of Clavius.

  Now, Julius replied, "Nay, the assist of the gods was not needed. We were in return long before the speculatoria left port. The Petrel is not in Neápolis, but is standing in Rheginum. The wind was foul for the narrow passage, and when I received the scroll, I boarded the smaller vessel to make haste in return." A speculatoria could close-haul the wind like no other boat and could traverse the narrow straits between Latium and Sicilia with ease and safety, even in the face of a northerly wind. "Kaeso will follow when the wind gives change. But, our reason for return is a tale of strange fate and even stranger fortune..." For several hours, Julius gave his brother the saga of the last year - the ordinary commissions, the
toil in Antioch to find the reason for the interrupted agency, and finally the charge for the hurried transport of the ambassadors. Their Mother, bored and not understanding either the commerce nor the idioms of such, left the atrium. Finally, he finished with, "In the Petrel is much gold, enough even that ballast had to be heaved overboard." A pause, then, "Tell me of the strange summons and the sealed scroll. We are commissioned for a salvage...?"

  His brother shook his head. "Let us find a place with privacy." Standing, he called to the Steward. "We will take our converse to the veranda. Allow none but yourself on the steps." Virnius nodded, and the elder brother led Julius to the uppermost place of the house - a platform high above the surrounding city, shaded with tented cloth and accoutered with comfortable mats and a long mensa, in the Roman manner.