Insurgent of Rome

by Ken Farmer

  The Sage quickly shook his head. "Nay. I have no knowledge of schemes, but I need no great intuition to guess the gentle plots of a noble woman who desires to speak to a man in private." He paused, then, "But... I had many hours of converse with the goodsome woman on our return from the island, as I am sure you well know. She is intelligent, questing and without the usual frivolousness of many females. If I may offer an opinion, she would be a superior mate for any man, and especially one who values the learning of knowledge."

  "Aye," replied Julius. "That is easily seen, and I give admit to considerable yearning for such as she. But how would such a mating be sensible? In my usual absences a son could be born and weaned and almost be measured for the man-toga by my return." Patroclus did not speak for the moment, merely looking at his Captain as if waiting for self-cognizance to form. Finally, the younger Roman said, "Speak your mind. There has never been any manner of secrets between us and no words will cause such a bond to bend even slightly."

  The Sage waited for a moment, then said with careful selection of words, "You are searching mightily for reasons to avoid the matter. Your extended absences are not from need, but the desire of yourself - and all in the crew - to move their feet to new places. Except for Kaeso, with his mate, none of us have any binding reason to return to Capua. But, is not the Petrel the fastest vessel on the waters, other than the tiny message boats? Did we not make the crossing from Cyrene on the southern shores to the straits of Messina in the span of three days?"

  Julius gave a wry frown. "Aye, with the wind howling as the putrid breath of Neptune."

  The Sage waved his hands in dismissal of the objection. "But, there is no reason that we could not put into Capua each month, or even more often should our mission be on the northern shores of Latium or Gaul. Indeed, I have thought that such touching at our home port might be considerably more efficacious than standing into one harbor after another, searching for some directive that might be months old by the time of delivery."

  Julius nodded slowly. "Aye, there is some goodness to your ideas. I will add them to my churning thoughts this night as I attempt to gain some rest."

  The oldster stood. "And I will go below and start my rest now. Even my poor attempts at wenching are draining for these old bones." He walked to the rear scuttle, then turned and said, "Your speaking of no secrets between our beings was not with full veraciousness. I know well that the matter of the ink jug and my newly received scrolls from Athens was as a result of the desperate battle between two young soldiers at play - despite their vigorous denials to both myself and the Dominus." He waved. "I give you a goodly night."

  As Julius watched the old man descend into the hold, his look of surprise changed to a wide grin. In all the years since their boyhood, both himself and Aulius had given self-acclaim to each other at their successful concealment of their 'crime' from the adults of the household. He remembered the play with the wooden swords, as they moved through the back of the house, clacking their weapons together, until they reached the scribery of Patroclus, he being their tutor at that time of their lives - and fortunately absent for the day. A mis-swing by one or the other hit the large holding jug of black ink on the shelf above the table, with predictable results. Not only were some newly arrived scrolls completely blackened, but also the boy-tunics and aye, even the skin of the wearers. Their efforts in the river to clean themselves almost removed skin as well as ink, and a quick foray to the house of a friend got them borrowed tunics that allowed them to saunter back to their home with feigned calm. There, they entered the front door, chattering of the day spent at watch of the puppets in the Forum, two innocents on whom no blame could fall for any mishap in the house that day.

  Julius still smiled as he remembered their vehement denials - nay, pure falsehoods given to both Father and scribe. And now he knew, in all the years hence, he and his brother had fooled only themselves about their cleverness.

  He heard the chatter of men on the shore, knowing that it was the rest of the crew in return from their day of wine and women. Without waiting for them to board, he descended to his tiny cabin and began to write a script, which he wrapped around a spindle. It finished, he began another and shorter missive, given wrap of it own. Calling to the deck for any to hear, he gave command for an oil lamp to be ignited and brought. Now, scrabbling around in his chest, he found two items that had had little use even since he had taken to the sea.

  "The lamp, Capitaneus."

  Julius saw Pontika standing in the doorway holding the small flame. "Aye. Call a man from the deck." Finally locating his needs, at the bottom of his chest, he dropped a small piece of red wax from a frozen lump into a small bronze cup, then melted it over the tiny flame. He poured the thick liquid into a gobbet onto the smaller spindle where the end of the papyrus was showing, then pushed his small seal into the hardening wax to make the impression. Both wax cup and seal he had not used in enough years to even have a memory of such - few messages among the enterprise of the family were of such secrecy that a guarantee of security was needed. And this one was not such either, but only a matter of privacy.

  As Judoc descended in question of the call, Julius said, "Take this to the speculatoria of Capitaneus Amulius."

  With that, he prepared for an early sleep.

  Chapter 20

  The north wind was still directly off the beam on the return to Syrna and the four ships made the passage in goodsome time. Of course, their pace was not as on the voyage to Rhodes - they now had the family merchant in follow, and while it was vastly more nimble than the clumsy tubs that they had led to the island, it could not match the Petrel and the pair of speculatoria in movement across the water.

  The ships of Caesar were now at anchor in the southern cove, giving the arriving observers notice that the strife on the island was over - and had been found in favor of the Romans. Rather than moor in the deep center of the inlet, Julius led the four ships to slowly ground on the sand, only then tossing the anchor stones overboard. Such would allow them to leave and enter the ships without the bother of unshipping the skiffs.

  With orders for all to stay with him until they reached the encampment, all left the ships except for Densus - and three others on the merchant and the speculatorae - on watch. Julius had no desire for a wandering crewman from his vessels to be mistaken for a pirate, in skulk and hiding from the soldiers.

  Before they had strode the few stadia to the huts of the pirates, they could see the Roman encampment toward the center of the island. The tents were set up a considerable distance away from the hutments and the reason was soon seen. The men of the Petrel were not strangers to death and broken men - their missions around the sea were not taken because the affairs of the family in that part of the world were proceeding smoothly. But for the crew of the merchant ship, for whom violence was usually limited to some brawl in a taburna between overly-cupped patrons, the sight of the long line of poles planted into the ground was... dismaying, at the least.

  "As I have said before," muttered Kaeso. "The noble Caesar does not make threats of emptiness."

  Julius nodded without speaking. He had known of the assured certainty in the outcome of the expedition, but thought and actual vision were as the difference between the ant and the elephantus. He turned that their walk might avoid closer approach to the appalling sight of half a hundred men nailed to poles and crossbeams, and planted with the care that a conscientious farmer might place his seed. Thinking of the days that had passed since the Petrel had left the gathering soldiers on the shore, he knew that few, if any, of the condemned pirates would still be on the mortal side of the Styx, and soon this island would be a festering Hades of rotting flesh and swarming seabirds.

  Even on an island where the entire extent of the land could be seen, along with the approach and mooring of the ships easily watched, the discipline of the Roman Legion was not in abeyance. An officer of the guard, with his men behind him and at the ready, gave challenge to the group of sailors in approach.<
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  "Julius of the house of Clavius, to give call upon Gaius Julius Caesar."

  "Aye, Capitaneus. Pass and enter."

  The Captain turned to gesture at his men. "I would bespeak for my men, that they not be taken for skulking reavers by your soldiers."

  Before the officer could answer, a jovial call came from behind him. "Nay, Capitaneus. Unless your men make foray into Hades, they will see no living reavers. The entirety of the island has been scoured for such."

  The man stood to attention as Caesar appeared, striding forward to give greeting to Julius. "Come, let us take a cup and discuss our next moves." To his man, in his perpetual stance behind his master, he said, "Call upon the Quaestor to make a hot meal for our guests."

  Julius followed the noble to his huge and gaudy tent, then was waved to sit at the table in the center. The chairs were not such as would be used in a noble household. The Legions did not burden themselves with furniture while on march to battle. These had obviously been constructed from the leavings of the destroyed pirate encampment by the Lignarius of the unit. Indeed, even a portion of a Legion in campaign carried a Carpenter, as well as Smith and other skilled workmen in support of the men in the ranks.

  As their cups were filled, the noble pointed to a chest in a corner of the tent. "That is your silver brought for release of the Domitius family." Julius nodded, as the man continued. "I have taken the liberty of adding to the weight with a portion of the spoils that we found in the camp."

  "They gave you little trouble in the subduing, I assume, from the number of poles that we passed in our walk."

  Caesar shook his head. "Nay. Such scum can affright merchant seamen by their numbers, but their skill in battle is as a Matron flailing her stick at a rodent in the pantry. Most were with swollen heads from the wine of the night and merely ran from the sight of a rank of Legionaries in approach." He took a gulp then grinned. "Of course, on this mite of an island, any flight from peril is very limited. A few were cut down, but the greater number fell to knees to ask for quarter." Now he pointed, vaguely toward the pirate encampment. "I did discharge my oath as promised. Their despicable leader, Aniketos, is nailed to the side of his own longhouse. If you wish, I will show you his final place of command."

  Julius shook his head. "There is no need. I have seen dead men ere now. But what of you? We stand out for Antioch, as planned, but the Petrel can touch at Rhodes again, that you might begin your delayed instruction there."

  The noble shook his head. "That point of my life will be consigned to a strategy that is now without use. With the death of the dictator Sulla, I need not now sleep with blade in hand in fear of my life." He grinned. "I will return to Rome at the head of my successful men, to bask in the glow of my glorious victory." Julius knew from the tone that the man was speaking in jest - at least partly. "Before we took ship for this island, I procured an appointment as Senior Tribune Militum, in the Legion now forming for war in the eastern lands. With any success at in that post, in a pair of years I mayhap stand for election of Quaestor. With such in the bag of achievement for a man, who knows what level to which he might aspire?" He waved at the aide to fill the cups again, then leaned over and asked, "What of your task? Did the needed covenants arrive, with agreement by all parties?"

  "Aye. It is an agreement between two kings and the Senate, and seemingly as viable as a ship made of stone, but in effect, while Rome is involved in the eastern war, and Tigranes with his on the far side of his land, Antiochus, will rule the city of his namesake and the several others in his domain."

  Caesar thought for a moment, then replied, "My knowledge gives that the Queen mother, Kleopátra Selene, is the power behind the man, and a woman of vast scheming."

  Julius shook his head. "You have the better of me with any cognizance of Kings and Queens. My knowledge of such ends at the tide mark, but in any case, such highness in rank will have little effect on my mission. I have the auspices of the royal scrolls to return to Antioch."

  The noble nodded. "Then you still wish my men in accompaniment?"

  "Aye," replied Julius. "What a scroll allows may not be given heedfulness by men who see their livelihood threatened." He looked out the tent flap at the soldiers relaxing in their way. "Have any given notice of interest in my offers?"

  Now Caesar snorted. "For the opportunity to gain another golden round, all would ship with you. But, I have selected twenty of my best, and a Pilus Posterior as their commander." He turned and called an order to the aide standing at the tent flap. "Call Centurion Drusus to wait on me."

  In a moment a large man, firm of body and straightness of form in the manner of an officer of the Roman Legions entered to stand and salute his reporting as ordered. Pointing to the Captain, Caesar said, "This is Capitaneus Clavius. He will be your Commander on this mission as of now."

  "Aye, Sos."

  Julius looked the man up and down, gaining a favorable impression - at least outwardly. "I will meet with you in a while, Centurion, to give some notice of what we are about. For now, have your men assemble at the merchant in the cove - the one showing the red streamer. We will depart within a pair of hours."

  He nodded, but before the man could acknowledge the order, Caesar pointed to the chest against the fabric wall of the tent, "Detail two men to take that silver to the vessel of the Capitaneus." The man saluted, turning to leave. Quickly, two men entered to take the chest, disappearing out the tent flap as quickly as they had come.

  Now Caesar asked, and not entirely in jest. "What of myself and my men in our return voyage to Rome? Are we to be given to the mercies of the man in my ship that has pretensions of having skills in navigation?"

  Julius smiled. "Nay. Capitaneus Amulius will guide you to Capua in his speculatoria. From there, I assume that even a pointing dolt as you describe can follow the coast a few stadia to Rome." He stood, saying, "We will stand out immediately to use the goodly north wind while it is still strong. I give compliment on your successful mission and wish you a steady return to your home."

  Caesar put a hand on the shoulder of the Captain, then said with some intensity. "You are a man of great ability, Capitaneus. Remember my offer of high office should I have rise in my vocation." He smiled. "The house of Clavius would have heightened gloss with the bust of an Admiralis of Rome in the atrium."

  Before Julius could answer, the tent flap opened and an officer strode in to stand before the Commander. "There has been a brawl between a man in the Contubernium of Rufrius, Sos, and one of the crew from yon merchants."

  Surprised, Caesar stood and looked at his guest, then back to the officer. "A brawl? Over what need?"

  "I am not completely privy to the reason, Sos, but it was not from the overuse of wine. Rather, there was some discussion of past events in some eastern barbarian land of which I have no knowledge."

  "They did not pull iron?"

  "Nay, Sos. According to the Decanus of the unit, such temper would have quickly been reached, but the comrades of both pulled them apart before blood could be spilled."

  Caesar looked at his guest, then asked, "Do you make sense of this?"

  Julius nodded. "Mayhap. There is a Thracian in my crew who has had some disagreeable encounters with Roman units in his land. I would guess that it is he." A pause, then, "It is our need to depart, and such will guarantee no repetition of the unpleasantness. I would not give harsh judgment to your man, Sos. I will wager yon chest of silver that the fault lies with mine."

  Caesar nodded. "Aye. Go with my gratitude for your imposing service to myself in my need. We will meet again in the near future, I have little doubt."

  Julius bowed, exiting the tent with the intention to gather his men from their wandering of the island. At a word with the guard Captain, he learned that the officer in charge of their group had ordered all back to the ship. Aye, Kaeso was no fool, and knew that the quickest way to assure no further unpleasantness was to put all back on board.

  Within the hour, the Petrel, the merchant and
the remaining speculatoria were in full sail to the east.

  As soon as the course was settled, he sent for Kaeso to conference in his cabin, to gain knowledge of the scrap between the soldier and the crewman. "...red-accoutered toad gave issue with the presence of a foul Greek on a Roman island," began the First Mate. Like most Romans on the green side of dotage, all in the crew were clean-shaven - as were the soldiers on the island. Melglos, however, still followed the tradition of the Greeks, and his short beard gave goodly indication of his genesis, as did the subtle differences between the working tunics of both lands, his being with shorter sleeves and a narrower opening at the neck. "Let me say that the Roman was the instigator of the contestation, even if Melglos gave some overly hostile reaction to the words."