Insurgent of Rome

by Ken Farmer

  Julius actually grinned at the noble. "Aye. But have no fear. I have no intention of stripping the ship of seamen. Nor of storming yon camp with blade and shaft in some reenactment of a Roman Thermopylae."

  "Will you not toss a crumb of your plans to one who might wish to help."

  "If you wish." They watched the small skiff being lowered into the water - a strangeness to the noble Roman, since the only land was many stadia away - on the horizon, in fact. "But, do not ask to join. I know my men and their form and actions, even in the dark. You are a stranger and I have no time to learn of your... abilities." Julius spoke for a while, then walked to make a last word to Kaeso, both reciting the times and actions, to gain assurance that both were reading from the same scroll. Then the skiff crossed to the speculatoria with himself and two men, Melglos and Ngozi, returning with two of the crew of the smaller vessel to make replacement. Only the young Captain, Decimus, and another was left of the original crew.

  Darkness fell, and the two boats began to fall downwind, but without haste. There were many hours of darkness left until the time to act. The two men from the Petrel were selected as being the fiercest at bladework. All in the crew, except the Sage, were men for whom it was exceedingly unwise to draw metal against to match, but these two were exceptional. Ngozi swung his iron with the speed of the hooded serpent of his far southern land. The Thracian was less in swiftness, but his bulk of sinew and size of frame gave him a stroke likely to slice the body of a man in twain.

  With any help from the gods, their weapons would not even be pulled from scabbard.

  "Pales is at the peak, Capitaneus."

  Looking at the bright point of light directly overhead, Julius said, "Aye. Stand us in." The young Captain gave quiet orders to the man on the rudder and the little speculatoria swiftly covered the last stadium to the shoreline. Unlike the Petrel, with the extended fin at the keel, this boat could easily be grounded on a sandy beach. Now, Julius was gratified for the hours of boredom on the yesterday, making him walk around the encampment and a goodly part of the island to pass the hours. There was no moon, the thin crescent setting hours before, but the sky was clear and the faint light of the astral lamps gave good direction, if not vision. As the distance from their point of grounding to the encampment was only the half part of a stadium, they quickly made the distance, even with much stumble in the scrub and bushes. There was a short bit of confusion, but he finally recognized the low hill - a mound, in actuality - that gave a goodly vision of both cove and encampment. Or would have served, had there been light to see anything but stars and blackness.

  Now the three sat to wait. Of necessity, they had to be in place before the events began that would rouse the camp. Their course, both to the shoreline and across the land was easily gauged, while the time to give task of those in the little skiff was less certain. Still, if the boatmen attained their goal, their success would be easily seen.

  As they waited, Julius said quietly, "Imbue the torches." They had three, to be used if certain actions came to pass. He could see the shadow of Ngozi as he poured the liquid from the small flask into the dry wicks, finally handing one to each of his comrades. All had flint and iron, to be used with the dry moss, infused with niter, to start a flame, but such would probably not be needed...

  "Capitaneus! There!" The sudden call from the black crewman was in a whisper, but such was just instinctive caution - their distance from the encampment would have allowed them to speak normally without fear of pirate ears.

  "Aye," was the reply. Julius could easily see the tiny flame in the distance. His worry of was that the undisciplined reavers might be so far into their cups as not to even notice the disaster in the making. If such, he had a plan to act the part of a startled pirate and give his own shouted warning. Standing, he said, "Let us close the distance. Even the goddess, Theia, could not see a man in this night." Slowly they stepped down the long slope, still in anticipation of chaos to come.

  To the pirates - indeed to most men ensconced in the safety of home and port - there was no need of sentry in the night. Julius knew that no anchor watch was set on the two ships in the cove, having watched and examined the vessels from the shore in the last two days, merely in the curiosity of his calling. For himself, even the benign waters of Neápolis - the port serving his city of Capua - were not given trust. The Petrel was never left alone. The anchor watch might be only a laborer of the family's shipyard, but the deck was never left without guard. Here, and this night, the pirates would regret their lack of discipline.

  Suddenly, a brightness on the far vessel began to give outline to the nearer. Then, as if on cue, that hull itself sudden exhibited a tongue of flame as if the looking-port on the cookstove of a cocua were opened. On the Petrel that day, he had had Pontiki descend into the lower hold and give count to the barrels of pitch carried for repairs on voyage. Divided in twain, they were to be carried onto the pirate ships by men in the skiff, then the contents poured along the planks of the holds, and preferably onto the barrels of caulking fluid carried by all vessels. Given flame by the small torch carried to allow for such search of the hold, the dry planks and pitch of the hull and deck would enkindle as the funeral pyre of a noble Roman.

  Indeed, in the time needed to make only a few breaths, the small flames - apparently issuing from the open scuttles - became bonfires, the roar now heard from their position, almost half a stadium away. Julius suddenly realized that the three men, previously standing invisibly in the darkness, were now given considerable illumination by the massive torches on the water. Quickly he led his men to the shadow of a crumbling hut - one that he knew was empty of both persons or supplies.

  "Yon scum are slopped even beyond that of a taverna sot," muttered the Thracian. "We might begin to cut throats with the ease of a Koré picking flowers for her kirt."

  The idea was tempting, but the light given by the raging ships would not extend to the inside of huts, and blackness of vision was a weapon that could be used by all, including men swinging blades in terror.

  Finally, a man emerged from a hutment, no doubt to pour out his overabundance of wine-water, and suddenly giving the alarm in almost a feminine scream. In only a few heartbeats, someone began to beat a hammer on iron, and the encampment filled with men woken to disaster. As Julius had expected, all ran with stumbling feet down the long slope to the edge of the water, although had their vessels been on dry land and accessible, not even the gods could have given halt to the towering infernos. And, again, as anticipated, many were carrying torches, giving flame from each other as they ran.

  Julius quickly moved to the center of the encampment, holding his torch against a guttering flame in a holder stuck in the ground. In a heartbeat, the three now had illumination to begin their search. "Now, and with haste." As neither Melglos nor Ngozi had ever seen the Roman woman for which they searched, they had been practiced in the proper annunciation of her name. Indeed, such would have been necessary had she been a sister of either - in the darkness of the huts even her own mother would not have given recognition. Moving quickly, but standing erect rather than as skulking intruders, they moved among the shelters, calling at each doorway with the name that had been rehearsed. Julius knew that they would be just three pirates in the night, should any move their vision from the mesmerizing sight of two ships in roaring flame.

  At least for a short while.

  The first hut he examined was that of the leader, Aniketos, assuming that the wretch would have immediately abrogated his promise, and enjoy the use of the attractive woman as soon as the Petrel sailed from the cove. But, it was empty.

  He could see his two men hurrying among the shelters, also without success, then a thought of unease came to him. The woman might not respond even to her name, if sounded by a man whom - to her thoughts - had to be one of the captors. A glance down the slope showed that the pirates were still standing in watch of their livelihood in flames, and no doubt freezing the very air with black oaths in a quantity seld
om heard even in a grouping of such rabble. Should they realize that their encampment was in welcome to men who had responsibility for their loss, their wrath would become such that even a man with little skill in weapons might be as a raging fury.

  Suddenly, at a doorway, a man suddenly appeared and at no more than arm's length. Obviously sotted even beyond the norm for the night, he had not even roused for the alarm until now. But, his wits were not completely drowned in drink - he looked at the face of Julius in the flare of the torch, attempting to match the vision with a confused memory, then opened his mouth to shout his sudden realization. A balled fist crashed into a jaw and the man sprawled on his back, mayhap to waken on the morrow with broken jawbone - or not at all.

  Julius could see torches in movement back up the hill. Either the men had overcome their dazzlement of the disaster and had given assumption that such were indeed mere covering for an assault, or... Mayhap, the movement was just need to give action, even if to no purpose. For either cause, their mission was becoming desperate. They had to find the woman in the next few moments or their exit from the encampment would be in battle with overwhelming numbers.

  Then, cursing himself as a fool, he gauged his position in the camp, turning to run to the outlying huts that had housed the captives. In his celebrations of both wealth and success, the pirate leader would probably not have even had thoughts of the woman - as yet. With a sudden laudation to the gods for their beneficence, he saw the woman standing in the doorway of the hut in which he had first seen the family of Domitius. No doubt aroused by the tumult, she was watching the fires in the cove as were all other women in the encampment, without doubt. Only a dead man - or woman - would still be in slumber at this moment.

  "Julius?"

  The name came in sudden disbelief, but he had no time for either explanations or soothing words to a captive. Turning, he gave the loud whistles that had been described during his orders of the night. Hurriedly, his men appeared, but with news of some concern from Ngozi. "I bladed three men in yon hutment, about to give alarm." Julius wondered at the reason for anyone to have such disinterest in the calamity of the night as to just remain at his mat, then realized that the black crewman must have entered the structure where several of the pirates were recovering from severe wounds taken in the aborted attack on the merchant ship.

  His concern was not for the injured scum, but that the discovery of dead men would give notice that the camp had indeed been attacked by the men who had destroyed their livelihood. The gratitude of the pirates was not likely to be pleasantly given.

  "Snuff the torches. Let us depart and with haste!" He could see more movement down the slope as the shock of the happenings began to wear off and rational thought returned to the reavers. Torches were now coming back toward the camp, and not in the distance.

  They had not made the distance past the second hut when they were halted by a muffled cry from the woman. Julius turned as she whispered, "I have no sandals. They were taken on the first day." This was no time and place to give commiseration for the tender feet of a femina. Julius barked a quiet order and Ngozi quickly hoisted the woman over his shoulder with the ease of carriage of a bag of grain. Now, with as much haste as was possible over unfamiliar terrain and in almost total darkness, they moved back toward the coastline to the west - only about three stadia in distance.

  Julius stopped in his careful walk, and with such suddenness that Melglos careened into him. The reason was obvious - ahead, and moving quickly along the shoreline were several torches. In the darkness, there was no need to hide, but instance made the men move to the cover of a low bush. After a moment of thought, the Capitaneus said, "They are looking for the Petrel. They give assumption that it has grounded somewhere around the island and our crew is making assault on the camp."

  It was too dark to see anything on the water, but he had no doubt that the young Captain of the speculatoria had backed away at the first sign of the pirates searching the shore. For the moment, their situation was not of peril - even the tiny island of Syrna was a gigantic area to search in the darkness. But, come the sun...

  In a low voice he said, "We will move further to the south. The place where we were put ashore can be seen from the encampment. If we are still here at the rising of the sun, the speculatoria will be seen trying to extract us. Mayhap, the reavers will walk the shoreline, finding nothing, and return to their camp."

  There was no haste, as Julius wished to determine if his thoughts were correct. They would tarry for a while to allow the enraged pirates to determine that, despite their assumptions of attack, the Petrel was not engaged in a raid. In any case, he knew that the distance to the southern end of the island could only be ten stadia or less.

  And in fact, it was less - much less. The shore tended to the southeast and in about four stadia they could see the slight glint of starlight on water. From the distance of an arrow shot, they watched four men - or at least four torches - move along the water's edge, almost making a half circle around the small group of fugitives. Julius sudden realized that they were on a small jutment of land, barely a stadium wide at the base and narrowing to a point and with water on three sides.

  He wished the Sage had had a drawing of the small isle in his scrolls, that he might now use the memory to select a goodly refuge until the sun rose and they could spot the Petrel or the speculatoria. He snorted quietly to himself, remembering the long-ago droll comment of his Pedagogue to a boy-wish for some trinket. "You should supplicate the gods for your desires, young Master. Your entreaty will not be granted any with any more facility than your wish but you will join the exalted ranks of men who believe their needs to be of concern to any but themselves." Aye. His wish should have been for magical transport to the Petrel rather than for some mere scrap of papyrus - the fee for either supplication was the same.

  As he had no knowledge of the extent of the island, other than the gaze on the yesterday from the small mound close to the encampment, this would be as goodsome a spot as any to wait for the rise of the sun. He knew that both vessels would be traversing the shore in search of three man and a woman giving hail for reprieve. Still watching the four torches as they moved back to the north - and several others in the various distances - he said quietly, "The water is only fifty strides ahead. We will stop here for the nonce." The ground was rough with a few large rocks protruding here and there - at least, it appeared so in the darkness of the moonless night. The four would not - could not be seen unless some searcher actually strode up to their location. In the light of day, the matter would change to that of some seriousness, of course.

  Chapter 16

  "Lay quietly and do not move," said Julius. Camelia was sitting, huddled behind some low bushes, as were the three men. His concern was not of her fright, of which she was showing none, but of her garment. The full-length tunic of a noble woman, while showing some decay from her current misfortune, was still of a whiteness that would become as a dazzling glare when the sun topped the horizon. Any movement by her would be instantly noticed by any in range of vision.

  They could see the Petrel up off the western coast of the island and moving south, but also followed by a double handful of pirates that were keeping pace in their walk along the shore. Once it stood off the end of the point of land that was their concealment, they could easily give signal, but unfortunately, such would also be seen by the reavers. And the still-enraged men would be between themselves and the water's edge.

  Had the woman not been in company, Julius would have waited until the closest reach of his ship, then given presence to all. He had goodly confidence that he and his two men could master the scum walking the shore, especially with his bow giving reach long before any blades could be used. But, in the hot work against the foe, none would have any measure of time to protect the female.

  Still... They could not stoop behind bushes indefinitely, allowing the Petrel to sail out of sight around the island. He watched the group of pirates, no doubt giving wish that t
he ship would indeed come...

  With only his eyes above the bush in the growing light, he measured distances, then turned to the woman. "Camelia. I must ask that you sacrifice a part of your garb for our needs."

  She looked with a steady gaze into his face, then replied very quietly, "You may have the entire garment if such will remove me from this cursed island."