by Ken Farmer
"But neither drew a weapon?" asked Julius.
"Nay! There were hands on hilts, although I have doubt that it would have descended into blood-work. But the soldier began a cajoling tale about the use of Greek women in their forays about that land, in obvious baitment of our man, and the blood of Melglos was in boil. Both gave decision to discuss the matter with fists, but both bands of men showed good sense to hold their fellows back. I immediately gave the order to return to the ships as to avoid any untoward actions that might have... unpleasant results."
Julius nodded. "Aye. It was a good order." He thought for a moment, then said, "As you give that Melglos was not the instigator, nothing more will be said. But, counsel him about future conduct ashore." The First nodded, leaving the Captain to his thoughts.
Kaeso was a good officer, and worthy of his own command. Julius made the decision to place his name for assignment to the Captaincy of a merchant when the Petrel returned to Capua. Or, mayhap a swift speculatoria, if such was desired by the man. But, that would be months in the future.
The voyage was swift, the wind gods giving goodly blow, and with little seen except for one incident...
"Sail to wind'ard!" came the call from Judoc, on the rudder. Julius and Patroclus looked up from their mapboard, and the crew kneeling in the shade of the sail in their game of knucklebones stood in gaze across the horizon. For the nonce, it was just a gray spot in the distance but within the hour it resolved into a ship of considerable size and obviously pointed to the small vessel ahead of the bow.
"A Triíris," said Kaeso. "Two masted with a scudding sail on the forepeak. Looks to be a Phoenician."
Julius just nodded, but Pontika, gladdened for a reason to stand from her practice navigating, asked, "It is a pirate, Capitaneus?"
The Sage snorted in reply to his student. "What else? In these waters, no Master will approach another without intent of offense. An honest merchant would have turned in haste at the sight of our ships and instantly."
Indeed, at a distance of a stadium or so, the other ship pointed its course to give follow to the other three. Directly upwind, the newcomer was given protection from being set upon by the Petrel or its mates, should they have desire of reaving of their own, and their position gave poise to swoop downwind and accost their quarry at desire. At least, that was their thought.
Without orders, the crew had accoutered themselves in anticipation of the assault, blades at belt and bows laying on the deck at their feet. The wooden partitions had not been raised as yet - no indication of bowmen could be seen on the other deck.
"They seem to be in some wonder as to which fruit will be picked," said Meglos.
"They could never catch Capitaneus Decimus in his missive boat, and they see the Petrel as the smallest plum for their grasp," gave Densus, "but the merchant would be a heavier basket to their eyes."
Julius grinned. "Aye. It would gladden my liver to see yon reavers shake that tree. As young pueruli, my brother and myself learned that ripe fruit is often accompanied by wasps that have little like of disturbance." Indeed, a ship of pirates standing close to board a merchant with twenty veteran Roman Legionaries in hiding-wait would be a sight to give sweetness to the eyes of any honest man.
"Mayhap a bit of discouragement with bows would give them either rage or flight," said Flavius.
Julius shook his head. At that range, he or Judoc could, no doubt, hit the ship, but even for them there would be no question of marking down individual men. "Nay. They will decide soon - either to make the attempt or move to find an easier task."
"We can point to the edge of the wind and trim the distance," said Kaeso. "Yon hulk could not match the Petrel within two handspans off the eye of the wind."
"I have a different thought. Have the men stand ready for some rapid use." Turning, he ordered, "Pontika, relieve Judoc on the pole. Densus, stand by the boy... girl." The man from Gaul was far too skilled an archer to waste in use of the rudder pole and the youngster, by now, had much experience in conning the ship. The cook would watch her movements, that the youthful excitement of the moment did not overcome the need for good pointing. And that she kept her head down should any arrows begin to fly.
To the new agent, standing by the mast, he called, "Heraklides. You would favor me if you stood below." Then to all, "Stand by to go about!"
To Densus, he ordered, "When I command, take us to the opposite tack but full to the wind." The man merely nodded his acknowledgement, turning to speak to the young rudderman... woman - no doubt, giving advice or warning of what was to come.
Looking around to see that all were ready, the Captain nodded to Kaeso. "Now! Take it about!"
"Hard to sinister!" the First shouted aft to the Korí. Then forward to the crew, "Let go the wind'ard lines!"
The Petrel spun as a dancer in the Forum, the sail weather-vaning as the eye of the wind moved from the sinister beam, across the bow, then to the forward quarter of dexter. "Haul and tie!" As the lines were pulled, the cloth popped and filled, the ship gaining way and in point to pass behind the vessel of the pirates, if indeed such was what they were.
Julius watched across the water, in some wonder at what the reaction of yon newcomer Captain would be - and thus far, it was nothing. Looking back, he could see that the merchant with the soldiers was still standing its course. Captain Fundanus would not do otherwise without orders, unless the situation gave need of action, and the Speculatoria would keep a goodly distance. The small boat of Captain Decimus with three men would be a mere cockleshell to be trampled in a fight with pirates.
In an exceedingly short time, the Petrel had reached upwind to the level of the intruding vessel, but necessarily in point away from such. That quickly changed as he gave the order to make the opposite tack, then stand down from the edge of the wind. Apparently, before the pirates realized what their quarry was attempting to accomplish, the smaller ship had gained a stance a stadium or so behind and windward of the larger, but with the distance closing rapidly. Now the Petrel had the advantage of position. With superior speed and handling, they could maintain any distance in follow - and to the ends of the sea, if desired, unless the eye of the wind suddenly moved to some far quarter.
"Bring us to a hundred strides to the windward beam," Julius said suddenly.
Kaeso relayed the order to the girl, "Let go a half handspan!" The ship moved off the wind a little more, reducing the distance that they would pass the pirate. Now, forward he called, "Do not show your wood until they give reason." Thus far, the unknown vessel had not yet given offense to the Petrel, or even threat, unless the action of deliberate closing could be considered as hostile. He walked the short distance to stand beside the rudder, saying quietly to the cook, "Raise the shields for the femina." The person at the tiller was the most important on the ship - any attempt to seize a vessel would always begin with efforts to slay the man at that post, that the quarry might become uncontrolled, and hopefully turn into the wind and halt any progress. The barriers on each side were hinged at the deck, giving a narrow and wooden valley in which the man could kneel, giving the rudderman complete protection from any wood that might be sent his way.
There were other such barriers around the deck, but none would be raised unless the other ship was determined to be hostile.
"There, Capitaneus," said Kaeso, pointing. "Archers." A pause, then, "Although I see no wood on the string."
Julius nodded, about to give the command for the wooden barriers to be raised, then halted in his call. The other ship had suddenly pulled its rudder hard over, turning the vessel to course almost directly downwind. Now the First gave another comment, "It would appear that they have decided to fish in other waters."
Aye. It was obvious that the situation was too uncertain for the Captain of yon ship to give assault. The dancing maneuvers of the Petrel gave notice that the ship was not crewed by plodding crewmen and a stolid Master, and that the vessel was not giving indication of dread at the appearance of the larger mar
auder. And the presence of the second larger ship gave hesitation. There was little doubt that it would come to the aid of its fellow, if needed.
"Point us back to course," ordered Julius. The other ship was now far downwind and of no danger to his ship, if indeed, it had actually been in plan of assault. Other than the close approach, no threatening action had been taken or posed by the other vessel. Now, all in the Petrel unstrung bows and dropped belts, setting all by the scuttles to be taken below, later.
Julius and Patroclus resumed their chairs and discussion over the map, allowing Kaeso to put their vessel back in lead of the other.
Book III
Chapter 21
"Your pardon, Capitaneus." Julius opened his eyes to darkness, the man standing in the opening to the tiny cabin barely even a shadow, but with a voice that identified itself as Flavius.
"Aye."
"The fire on the harbor tower of Antioch can be seen just on the horizon."
"What is the hour?"
"About the tenth. Two hours to first light. With this wind we will reach the entrance before sunrise."
Julius thought for a moment, then said, "Reef enough to slow our entry until then." As the shadow departed, he lay back on his mat. The voyage from Syrna, with the goodly wind had only taken a few days, and with little seen, other than the strange approach by the ship of the supposed reavers. It was what they would encounter in the city that was of concern. Even with a scroll in his cabin, marked with the royal seal of the monarch, Antiochus, such might not be considered by men whose livelihood was threatened, and with few scruples in maintaining such.
The Petrel was not unknown in the harbor, and especially by men who knew of its participation in certain recent... activities. Activities that had resulted in a number of men lying on the cobblestones. The first day would tell the tale.
Both larger ships tied to the wharf within an hour after sunrise, the speculatoria merely pulling itself to ground on the sand. The port-taxman that stepped onto the wharf was obviously surprised to see the passengers on the merchant. Julius knew that the word of a unit of the Roman army arriving would be known throughout the city before the first cups were emptied in the tavernas.
He would not have been surprised at a unit of the city watch arriving with some official writ of confiscation. Still, caution was the watchword for the day. "Keep the men on board until I give otherwise," he ordered Kaeso. "And with some readiness for unpleasantness. Should you perceive some oddness to any group in approach, push out without wait for myself." He walked to the big Thracian, giving some words until the Greek nodded and descended into the hold. Now, crossing the wharf to the merchant ship, where the Centurion was waiting for orders, he ordered, "Detail a Contubernium for my use, then stand in watch for the ships until I return."
A Contubernium - a tent unit of men - was a group of seven led by a sub-officer, a Decanus. He only wanted such as a show, not battle. In any case, even the third part of a Century of veteran Legionaries could not fight an entire city, and he had no intention to do so. Such would destroy his reason for the return to Antioch.
Preparing to depart, he called, "Ngozi! Heraklides! You are with me."
He had queried and tested the new agent, finding that he was not an accomplished skirmisher with his longknife, but neither was he a helpless venturer of the streets, being at least as adept as any cutpurse or miscreant of the lower quarters.
"Nay, Pontika. Stand down and do not ask." This was Densus, seeing that the Korí was about to give plea to follow, that even yet another adventure might be encountered. "Get back to your tablets and learning. The time for your action is not yet."
It was a short march to the huge building that was the offices of the ruling magistrates of the city - or at least the port. The actual city of Antioch was some stadia inland. At the gate, the guard Captain was properly impressed - nay, stunned would be the word, seeing a small unit of actual soldiers marching along the street to the gate of the magisterial building. The men were in full kit, helmets above leather torso armor, with the petal skirt - the petruges - hanging to the knees. Below the greaves, protecting the shins of the legs, were army sandals - strongly made with thick soles and broad straps to serve the wearer for thousands of stadia of march. All carried the rectangular scutum - the standard Legion shield in the sinister hand, leaving the other to hold the iron pilum, the iron throwing spear used to stave in the front ranks of closely packed foes. And, of course, at belt was the short sword, the gladius, now the standard blade of the Legions.
During the days of travel from the island of Syrna to Antioch, the Centurion had required all to buff their kit to an oiled shine on leather and a gleaming polish on metal and now, the soldiers from the merchant ship could have been used in march on a feast day in the Forum, giving salute to the watching Senators.
With widened eyes, almost unable to take his gaze from the unit now standing at order in front of the gate, the Captain was shown the Royal scroll, emblazoned with the seal of Antiochus in a huge gobbet of red wax. The Captain nodded and turned to call the command allowed entry that, pointing at some retainer to give escort to the office of the senior magistrate, the Dikastís.
In the courtyard, Julius turned to the sub-officer, the Decanus, ordered the small formation to halt. "Stand here in wait, and in sentinel formation." The man nodded, calling the command that caused the soldiers to stand at their ease, but turned outward from each other that all quarters around the unit might be under eyes.
Inside the building they traversed a long hall, finally coming to the entrance of a large room where they were bade to halt. With Ngozi and the agent in wait outside the doorway, he was announced to the overgarbed official. Such pomp in habiliments was not the exclusive attributes of the Greek lands. More than once, he had given wonder at the strength of a soft-sinewed Roman official, and of the ability of the man to hold himself erect under the weight of enough robes to clothe a Plebeian family for the winter.
Handing the still-sealed scroll to the official, he said, "Kapetánios Clavius, with a Writ of Mandamus to the Dikastís of Antioch."
The man was surprised, at the least. Julius was not garbed as an important man come with commands from a king, but rather as... what he was - a working Captain of a ship. There was a hesitation, then he accepted the scroll, looking intently at the seal before picking up a dull wax-blade and freeing the papyrus for reading. "Please sit... Kapetánios, whilst I give perusal to this..."
Julius nodded and sat, giving little worry to his backside with Ngozi on wait at the door. The official attempted to keep his expression blank, but the irregular twitch of his facial sinews gave away his surprisal at the content of the missive. Finally, he set the scroll on the table, still unrolled. "This is most unusual. Indeed, even irregular. It was our understanding that King Tigranes would be granted entitlement to Antioch and the environs, per the heirship of King Phillip." He paused, thinking out his words before continuing. The "Ypálliloi and the Astynomía will have much dislike for this declaration."
Julius had little idea of the exact substance of the words, other than describing various officials in the ruling body, but... "Romans have little liking nor knowledge of Kings, but even one as ignorant as myself knows that such Royal beings have little care about the opinions of minor officials." He pointed. "As you have read, this declaration is vouched by the Roman Senate, in agreement with both the Kings Antiochus and Tigranes. The new Senior Tribune Militum, Gaius Julius Caesar, has lent me his unit of veterans, to be used should the dislike, as you say, become overweening. And, there is Proconsul Cosconius, now resting in Illyria after conquering that land - he has four entire Legions that are now seeking other employment. Might I ask you to imagine the sight of ten times a thousand veteran Legionaries in ranks to quell some rebellious magistrates?"
His bluster of the soldiers was the truth, except for the lack of mention that neither Commander was likely to waste the thought of a single moment on subduing a city on the remote edge
of the Great Sea.