Insurgent of Rome

by Ken Farmer

  "You have told me that the Sage is the wisest man on your boat. I have wonder if the appellation might not be insufficient."

  He did not understand the meaning, still watching the back of the oldster as he walked down a side hallway. Julius had little experience with the social constraints of Latium, although he well knew of such. "Mayhap we should call for your ancilla to give presence with us?"

  The woman had not lost her smile. "Nay. We have no need of my maid to give attend as chaperona. No one, least of all my Father, would think the customs would be violated by the son of Cassius Clavius. And certainly not of the man who took this woman from the clutches of those despicable villains - even with the female over his shoulder as he cut his way through the horde to his ship."

  Now Julius gave a sheepish grin. "The street gabble certainly has given embellishment to the tale, but you of all in Latium, know the actual facts of the matter."

  "Aye, and I can say that the stories certainly have been colored by the telling, but are built on a solid basis of truth." She exchanged her own grin for a serious expression. "But, I am not a chaste femina, unknowing of the conjunction of man and woman. I am a proper widow, although poor Castus was taken by the red furies only months after our nuptiae, and in the prevalence of that time he was away with the Legions."

  "It was a saddening loss," said Julius, although he had had neither knowledge of her marriage nor the death of her Tribune husband.

  "Might I speak of yourself?"

  "Me?" He paused in wonder, although such a diverting female could have his attention for any matter. "Aye, ask me what you will."

  "Nay. I need no query about the noble Julius - I asked to speak, not question." She looked around, then said, "My interest in the scrolls and maps of Patroclus is real, but not this day. Might there be a place that we can converse, but be in view of our families, that they not worry about the forms?"

  Curious at the intentions of the woman, he nodded. "Aye. In the garden off the atrium. There is a mensa and chairs of comfort." He led the woman through the house, passing in sight of the other group, then to the small table surrounded by the greenery of the Conservatorium. Motioning for her to sit, he took the tall Greek-style chair immediately across, then spread his hands in invitation for her to begin her spiel, whatever it might be.

  "What is the destiny of your young ward, if I may ask?"

  Julius was surprised at the sudden turn of the question, assuming the answer to be plain to all. He had seen the noble woman and the urchin boy in much friendly converse during the long voyage back to Capua, but had thought little of it. "He will serve as young apprentice until he reaches his size, then his own actions will determine his place." The woman sitting before him appeared to be hiding some self-amusement, he began to realize.

  "Mayhap he is unsuited to a life on the sea?"

  Julius almost snorted his reply, then culled his words to fit the listening ears. "He has already shown more ability - aye, and courage, than men far past his age. If he is a goodly learner, I can see his commanding a ship of the family in some future..." He slowed his speaking to a stop, then gave a stare at the woman. Then, "Your words are not in step with your countenance."

  She gave a short laugh, then said more seriously, "It was not my confidence to give, and I made oath that I would not, during the voyage, unless directly asked by yourself." She continued with a serious expression, "You call your new crewman by the name of Pontiki. A diminutive name in the Greek tongue for a small rodent, but not derogatory for one so young. Were the child born in Latium, the nomen might have been Mus."

  Julius nodded slowly, looking for indications of the jape that must be coming. "Aye... But when he gains his age, he can select a proper nomen to fit a grown man."

  Now she smiled. "The name for your new crewman, had it been correctly selected, would not have been Mus, but Muris. Mayhap, in Greek it would be Pontika."

  The woman was talking nonsense, but he could not see the end of the jest as yet. "No boy born of woman - in any land - would select a female nomen for his..." He stopped, his eyes widening as he stared in disbelief at the sudden realization of what the noble Matron was saying... "Nay, it cannot be. We would have..." He realized that he had risen at her words, likely having jumped to his feet. Looking around at the elders in the next room, and seeing that none had noticed his sudden confusion, he seated himself, his thoughts moving rapidly over the last months.

  She reached forward to put a steadying hand on his arm. "Pontiki is of the age that all clothed youngsters look alike. But, she is close to the day when her body will begin to change - indeed, it has already begun." A pause, then, "During your voyages in the hot season, I would wager that your crew lay out their off-watch by lolling in the shade the sail, in enjoyment of the moving breeze?" He nodded. "And, probably without a single garment for concealment, if you have no female passengers." Again the nod. "Have you ever known Pontiki discard even his loincloth?"

  Thinking on the sudden revelations, Julius slowly shook his head, then started, "Aye, during the need of swims for the ship at the island..." He paused, then shook his head once again and with a frown. "But the first was in darkness..."

  "Aye, and during our hasty leave of the cursed island, even though in the bright of morning, you and your men had far more on your mind than noticing any lack of manhood on one of your crew." Another smile. "And again, have you wondered at the continual wearing of a tunic on the return voyage, rather than the usual loincloth? As I said, she is on the cusp of the change, and her little papillae are beginning to swell into small berries. Soon, even her mammae will begin to grow. You and your men saw what you expected - a young boy - but eventually her swellings would have been noticed, and even through her tunic. During the voyage, I helped her fashion a strophium band from a bit of cloth that prevented the little points from showing through the cloth of her garb."

  Julius just sat, marveling at the sudden revelation. He - and his men - would regard themselves as fools for the lack of realization that their crewmate... He paused and chuckled to himself. Nay, the noble woman was right - at that age, all urchins wearing at least a loincloth are boys.

  "I offered to break the... news to yourself, after we landed in Capua. She had no intention of carrying the deception further - even had it been possible. But, she is not a grubby street-rat, to use the words of Flavius. When you next speak with her, gain the tale of her becoming an orphanus. It marches in step with your troubles in Antioch." She paused, looking into the far atrium at the elders in their converse, then said, "During the voyage from that accursed island, I learned that the young femina performed tasks that might have been baulked by a grown man, and was a major instrument in gaining my freedom, even without the need of swinging a sword." Julius nodded. That was indeed an accurate statement. "As I assume her time as sailor-crew has come to an end, I would be honored to accept her as a ward, making sure that all opportunities for such a femina are opened before her."

  She waved at the servant standing in the open doorway. Quickly the two cups were filled again. "Now, as I said in the room of Patroclus, might I speak of yourself?"

  It was with considerable astonishment that he heard her following words - nay, the effect on his being was closer to stupefaction, even more than the revelation that one of his crewmen was female. He could have imagined the spirited female to beg an accommodation as crew on his ship, to see the world far beyond the reach of a mere woman confined to the house and Forum of the city. Such a plea would be humorous, but not beyond imagination, but her actual words barely found place for thought in his mind, so unexpected they were.

  He had barely begun to assimilate the tryst with the young Matron when, the next day, a visitor arrived at the house, accompanied only by his man. Summoned to the office of his brother, he saw Gaius Caesar sitting across the work table from Aulius, then both rising as he entered. Instantly, he knew what this had to be. The noble was his usual ebullient self, heartily giving greeting to Julius, then tu
rning to the other and saying, "Know you that I have offered the Admiralship to your brother, should my future find myself in a position to call upon the Legions to move? Such appointment would relieve myself - or any other - of worry about the water aspect of any war. His ability on the sea is unmatched in my experience." Now with his smile in abeyance, he said, "Indeed, had I had the wisdom to make berth on his ship to the east in the first instant, I would even now be relaxing and learning in the Collegium of Rhodes."

  His brother nodded with a wryness to his expression. "Aye. Sometimes I give thought that he and his crew of cutthroats often attempt to sail into the path of peril, merely to give some excitation to their voyage. But, you are entirely correct - Julius is the direct incarnation of our sea-going ancestor, Myron, if the tales of our grandmother are to be believed." He waved for their guest to relax again. "Tell us your need."

  Reclining on the mat, he nodded to Julius. "He knows the reason, I would wager any amount."

  Julius nodded, then said to his brother. "He will make goodsome on his oath to the pirates. That they be nailed to the walls of their own longhouse."

  With widened eyes, Aulius looked back and forth to each man, then replied, "Ours is a house of trade, not that of making war. In any event, if we gathered the entirely of our men with goodly skills in arms, across the total of our ships, not even a Century would be created. And those are not in Capua to be inducted, but even now are scattered across the sea..."

  Gaius waved him to a halt. "You misconstrue my need of your services. I have no wish to hire a band of swords to gain my revenge. Nay, I will hammer the first nails into the limbs of the reavers myself. I need only for your ship to guide my fleet to the island." He gave a gesture to Julius, then continued, "As your brother can tell you, the island called Syrna is a mere speck in the wide sea, and a ship with less than goodsome navigation could sail back and forth for months without sighting it. Your man, Patroclus, might be merely a Greek, but I learned on the return voyage that his skills in pointing are unmatched on the water." Now he grinned as he admitted, "And with loyalty to this house. No amount of gold that I offered would detach himself from your service." Then with a serious expression, "I would have Capitaneus Julius and his ship lead my fleet to the island. Once it is found, then the contract is concluded and the Petrel can sail on to other needs." He spread his hands. "You can name any levy you require - it will be met."

  Aulius shook his head. "If the needs are merely for guidance, and not storming a pirate encampment, then the fee will be..."

  Chapter 18

  "I could imagine myself as Consul Gaius Duilius, leading the fleet into the battle at Mylae." Julius doubted that his Plebeian first mate was conversant with the history of Rome in sufficiency to know of that ancient sea battle that had started the wars with Carthage, but no matter. He and Kaeso were standing on the afterdeck, looking back along the wake of the Petrel. The two ships of the family - including one of the small speculatorie - were now making far less haste than usual as they coursed through the waters of the lower Ionian Sea. Their pace was limited to the plodding merchant ships in follow - none of which had had the superb founding of the leader. In addition, the four following hulls were laden with more than two Centuries of Legionaries and food for months. Seeing the deep draft taken by the vessels, Julius gave wonder if they would take the pace of a walking man even in a storm.

  "If one so low might give a judgement on such a high-born, yon Caesar does not give bluster in his threats," said Kaeso with a wry expression. "And for one that had his wealth seized by the dictator, Sulla, he seems to have little trouble finding coin for his adventures. What would be the cost of yon ships and soldiers?"

  Julius kept his gaze on the following ships in reply. "Gaius is a man who cares only for the use that a coin can be put to, not the gathering of such. To him, a golden aureus may have a sharper edge to his purpose than a gladius. This foray is not merely to avenge his ill-use at the hands of the reavers, but also to give notice to the citizens of Rome that the man will be a force to be reckoned with in the future."

  Both turned as Patroclus and the Korí appeared. The young girl was now being called Pontika by the crew, although the oldster, Greek descended himself, gave that the new nomen was not actually a correct change from the masculine to the feminine. Still, it sufficed and the girl was satisfied with such for the moment.

  The youngster was carrying the large map-board used by the old Archigubernus to figure his directions. Unlike the scrolls and papyrus maps in the cabin below, this one was painted and fairly impervious to water spray. Not an exact and accurate copy, it was sufficient to allow the rough calculations that would be refined later below and in cover. "Yon reaver isle should show over the bow before the evening meal, if the wind holds." Waving to Pontika to hold it for use, he tapped a finger in the middle of the blue paint. "Our point should be about here as of now."

  The Capitaneus nodded, then turned back to Kaeso. "Spill some wind and bring us into hail of the command ship." Shortly, the men were loosing ropes to allow even less cloth for the wind than the usual amount to keep ahead of the trudging vessels in the wake. In a while, Julius pointed his speaking trumpet toward the merchant and relayed the information to the Commander of the expedition. Finally, he shouted forward to Ngozi, on the bow watch. "The Sage gives that we are in approach." The man just waved in salute, then turned to continue his gaze into the distance.

  As soon as the island was spotted, they would come to and wait for the night. It was unlikely for a band of undisciplined reavers to give halt to the two Centuries in the following vessels, but should they have forewarning, the offloading of soldiers onto the shore could have difficulties. As there was no dock or wharf to be used, the small boats carried by each ship would be used, and even hardened Legionaries would be at disadvantage if met by numbers ten to their one.

  The day passed with Julius sitting in his chair at the base of the mast, needing to give no orders nor to receive any reports as yet. The crew not on watch played their interminable games of knucklebones the other end of the waist and the Sage and the Korí were engaged in their usual perusal of scrolls or single sheets of papyrus.

  Pontika, not a boy but a girl - indeed, a fledgling woman, a Korí in the Greek tongue, was no longer only a member of the crew, but a passenger as well, as it were. Obviously, the standing between him... her and the crew had changed, but such was to be assumed just from the nature of the situation. She was still a respected being, all knowing of her skill and courage, but the attitude of the men had changed - once the disbelief and astonishment had faded. She was no longer a boy, to be chortled and japed in his growth to manhood, but was now a femina, or to some, a Korí - gaining deference from her former shipmates.

  And protection. More than one bystander on the docks of Neápolis, the port of Capua, had received chastisement from a crewman after making a call of some indecency toward the attractive young woman - now garbed as such. Indeed, Densus had flung an idler from the wharf when that man did not take the warning in full.

  The girl was still under the wing of the oldster, he becoming his usual critical taskmaster in teaching as he instructed his pupil in basic navigation, even to the extent of cracking his wooden pointer across the knuckles of the student when she attempted to use fingers rather than thought for counting. Julius smiled the first time such was seen, remembering the same treatment for himself and his brother long ago in their adolescentia. Criticism was often and praise seldom, gaining chuckles from the crew when the oldster offered his open hands to the sky-gods in mock helplessness, groaning that the position calculated by the Korí showed that the Petrel was firmly aground at the base of the Egyptian pyramids.

  As the noble woman, Camelia, had suggested, the Korí was not an urchin of the streets, thrown there to live or die by unknown parents, but a girl who had had some education before the fate that took her from house and home. "Aye," made comment by the Sage at one evening meeting in the cabin of the Master. "It
is no bluster of her youth. She indeed had a Pedagogus in earlier days. A dáskalos, she would have called him."

  Many times during this voyage, his thoughts returned to the day that the young matron had sat with him in the family Conservatorium. Her words he had rejected as farcical and absurd - not with reply to Camelia, but with considerable internal turmoil. It was only after the voyage had begun that he had had time to explore the ideas of the woman.