by Ken Farmer
Placing themselves between the prone body and their sudden foe, the two crewmen took the onslaught of what almost seemed to be a mob with confused fury. In numbers, the match was ten or eleven to the pair of sailors, but had the fortune to be still standing in some shadow while the oncoming men were still fire-blind from the torches to some extent.
The men were foolish. Had they assembled both their thoughts and actions, a count of ten men or more can easily take the better of any two fighters in existence, but in their rage and the flailing attempts of vengeance, they were cut down as they approached a foe that was mere shadows in the flicker of dying torches. Finally, one, with either less fortitude in his makeup, or mayhap more grasp of the embroilment, turned to run for the door, giving call to any that might hear.
Neither Ngozi nor Melglos had escaped unscathed. In the flailing iron some made contact on limbs and body, but without either strong impetus or goodly aim. Cuts they received, but none to be mortal or disabling.
As the Thracian finished off the last man, Ngozi stooped to examine the man that was the reason for the battle. Turning his head, he called, "He still breathes."
Melglos was pivoting on his feet, looking around the huge building for any other threats, then called, "Take him, and with haste! Yon escaped slag will call down the furies of the city on us."
The black did not have to be told. He could hear the faint shouting of a man in the street, calling for succor from any who could be found. If any other band of their enemies could be found with any haste, they would soon be trapped in a building with no exit for escape. He quickly pulled the old man from the ground, to drape him over a shoulder, causing some measure of groan to be emitted by his burden. No doubt the act did little to give either comfort or repair to the old man, but unless they could disappear into the night, his existence would be ended quickly in any case.
Quickly, they gained the street, now seeing a mass of torches in the distance - either the town watch or mayhap more of the men of the evil magistrate. Or both. As there was little chance of carrying their burden through the streets and back to the Petrel, they both came to the realization of need of a small craft. Meglos was looking down the street at the gathering mob in the distance, then said quietly but with emphasis. "Go! Follow the harbor edge and find a skiff or flatboat. I will lead yon rabble on a coney chase away from you."
Chapter 24
The bare gleam of the next morning was not yet showing over the city and the laborers of the day had yet to stir. Densus appeared through the waist scuttle, walking to stand before the Capitaneus as a shadow in the starlight and dim flickering flame from the torches at the beginning of the wharf. Without preamble, the rotund cook said, "He still lives, although as to how I can not give reason."
Julius looked back at the opening in the deck, then muttered, "The metal of the old man is made with more temper than any of us." Nodding to the sleeping black man at the mast, he asked, "What of Ngozi?"
Densus shook his head. "Nay. His hurts are trivial by comparison. We need only watch that the red demons not begin their feasts on his cuts. The leg will be bothersome for a half month, but I see nothing that will give him halt in time." A pause, then, "I would be among the men who give regard to the putrid scum that gave proof to their manhood by beating a harmless oldster."
Julius nodded, then replied with some grimness. "Aye, but you may have some wangle with the others should you hinder their own desires for recompense." The usual jovial camaraderie of the ship had departed in the night, the rage of all only apparent in the total absence of any display of feeling. All were accoutered with weapons - they had slept with belts close at hand - silently giving plea to the gods for only a slight glance of any who might be held to account. He had even heard Pontika, in the darkness of the night, giving man-curses from the shore.
For himself, the vehemence was as fiery, but was only a smoldering spark as compared to the self-loathing of himself. The Sage was laying at the threshold of Hades because of the error - nay, stupidity, of his Captain in sending an old man, alone, on a mission into a city known to harbor enemies of all on the ships.
At least he knew that their nemesis was indeed the merchant and guild leader, Dionysophanes. Ngozi, in his tale, had given that the man who had issued orders in the warehouse was with the name of that merchant.
The black man had ended his tale by telling of his stumbling, with his burden, along the harbor shoreline - away from the Petrel - until he reached an area where fishermen gained the shore after the daily catch. Among the crumbling docks and stinking flaying sheds and drying platforms, he selected a boat for use. It was not a fisher, being too small for even that use, but was just a skiff for puttering around the water for whatever reason. The leaky craft did not even have an oar for use, requiring Ngozi to rip a small plank from a rotting wharf as means of moving. But, with his strength fading from considerable loss of his red life-fluid, he had managed to paddle, scull, and push the small craft across the waters to the Petrel.
And still in the wonderment and worry of the Captain was the absence of the big Thracian. Melglos had gained the attention of the mob in the streets, allowing his friend to carry the Sage to safety, but surely he did not attempt to engage all in the night. It was the hope of Julius that his crewman was safely ensconced in some building, or even across the wall into the woods and waiting for daylight to make his way back to the ship. Otherwise...
There was a period of thought in waiting for the sun, then he called for Flavius. "Tell the Capitanei to board for a meeting. And send word to Kaeso and Centurion Drusus to attend." As the Carpenter strode away, he walked to where Densus was standing. "Make a meal for five, yonder at the mast."
As the men assembled in the waist with the sun just began its rise, Densus set down a jug and a platter of cold meats and bread bought on the yesterday from one of the many food kiosks around the harbor. Even as the men began the break of fast, Julius said, "I am in need of ideas. Any that come to thought, do not hesitate to bring it forth. Here is our plight as I see it..." He gave all the story of the happenings of the last months, including some history of the area as he understood it. "...Antioch is a plum that will be taken by someone eventually, either Rome or Armenia. The port is too important to leave in chaos without leadership. For the nonce and by agreement between the Senate and King Tigranes, Antiochus, is in nominal kingship, although the Sage gives that his mother, Kleopátra Selene, is the real ruler, although how she intends to maintain control from faraway Damascus is beyond me."
The discussion went long into the morning, without any real plans coming to the fore that had any measure of possibility. "...do not wish to leave. There is the matter of our shipmate gone, and for the reason of protecting his mates from the storming mob. And, if we depart, then it will effectively end our use of this port - at least until the ownership of this domain is settled."
"Mayhap we allow the putrid Dinophanes... whatever the name of the cursed toad might be, to think that we are waiting for the massive fleet of Rome to arrive, bringing a Legion or so in assistance."
Julius shook his head at Kaeso, and with a wry grimace. "My shaking of the tree the last time brought down serpents, rather than fruit, and our Sage bore the pain of that folly. We would need a goodly plan for their reaction at receiving such news."
Drusus pursed his lips, apparently gathering his thoughts, then replied, "During my time with the men, in yon taburna, the men gave some chaffering with the locals. They were well-disposed toward the Legionaries, and much gab went back and forth - at least between those that had a common tongue - but... I can say that comments about the family of Anto... Antochus..."
"Antiochus," offered Kaeso.
"Antiochus... aye. The peoples of this city are not with gladness about the continuing rule of that family."
"Did they give the reasons?" asked Decimus.
"Nay. Not to my hearing, but they gave little doubt of their dislike."
"This would be a question for P
atroclus, were he at his station," replied Julius.
"How fares the oldster?" asked Kaeso.
"Densus gives that he is breathing, but little else."
The day passed without change in the condition of the old man, nor with any news of Melglos. Julius set a double watch on the ships during the night. The next morning, he was in furious thought about their next need of movement, again calling for the officers of the little fleet to join him in converse. The morning meal came and went, and the discussions continued until Pontika strode up and with some excitement. Julius turned at the call, "Capitaneus..."
There was a pause as the Roman waited for the need to be said, then seeing the eyes of the youngster quickly shift back and forth from the Captain to the assembled men, said, "Nay. All here are trusted. Speak of what you have."
Pontika pointed forward. "There is a boy, come to offer his blade for cleaning of our hull." Seeing the Captain about to dismiss the offer of an unneeded service, and with some pique at the interruption for a trivial matter, she hurried her words. "It is only a pretense, Capitaneus. He has brought a missive from Melglos!" As the men stared and began to rise, she continued in a panic. "Nay! The pretend must not be broken else he will be slain even as he leaves the ship!"
Julius understood instantly. There was no doubt that the ship was under observation by unseen eyes even at this instant, and no doubt by many. To the men, he said with some emphasis, "Maintain your bearings and without gaze away." He looked at the youngster standing on the deck, clad in only a rag and holding a tattered bag - no doubt it contained the crude pieces of metal that were used in scraping the green growths from hull planks. He knew that even were he to question the boy himself, the street-talk of the youngster would almost be as a foreign tongue. Pontika was by far the better crewman to give speaking to a street-rat of Antioch.
To Pontika he asked, "What has he said?"
The Korí shook her head. "Nothing as yet, but if we engage him for the use, I will give monitor of his work and take his missive without any on shore gaining any misdoubts."
"Do it!"
The two youngsters walked to the side to the hull and made discussion for a moment, Pontika pointing here and there along the line of the beam. Nodding, the urchin walked to pull a scraper from his bag, doffing his ragged loincloth before leaping over the side to disappear into the water. The Korí turned to say quietly to Julius, "There is a scrap of missive in his bag, Capitaneus." Then, she too, dropped from sight over the beam ends of the ship, although strangely to any that noticed, still garbed in a tunic.
Julius casually looked around the harbor, giving the aspect of a man waiting without current task. Then he absently paced back and forth, obviously in deep thought until his feet encountered the kit of the boy now in the water beside the hull. With an aspect of bothersome chaff at the disturbance, he stooped to grab both garment and the bag, throwing them forward to clear his path in his pacing. By chance, they fell through the forward scuttle into the hold below.
The conversation of the men had changed to useless guesswork, but also relief that the Thracian was still on the mortal side of the Styx. "Your young sailor is no asinus, Sos," remarked the Centurion, Drusus. "I have known few pueruli that can give such nimble thought. Should he care for admittance into the Legions, his acceptance as an Optio would be almost certain, when he gains his size."
Julius was staring along the shoreline in his walk and feigned thought, but Kaeso gave answer. "Aye. And more than once he has acted as a fledged crewman in our service, even at risk of his hide." Then with a grin that puzzled the Centurion, he said, "But, I fear that his service in the Legion would not be approved by the high commanders."
Finally, the Captain walked aft to descend the rear scuttle - no doubt to enter his tiny cabin in the stern.
Densus was below, also, giving watch over the broken oldster, and Julius said to him, "When the boy in the water finishes his work, give his compense to the amount of ten staters, but with small coin." A pause, then, "And advice to keep his wealth to himself if he wishes to keep both life and metal." The service of this street-rat was worth gold, but such would only get his throat cut the instant he displayed it for vending.
Now, away from any unfriendly eyes on the shore, he quickly moved forward, crawling over the center beams that gave some separation of both forward and aft holds. Picking up the tattered bag of the boy, he pulled out a thick wad of scripting sheets, folded twicely to the size of a palm...
On deck again, Julius casually wandered back to the group, looking out over the harbor as if merely passing the time. But, once seated, he spoke and rapidly. "...Melglos is at the Palace with the party of Timotheus, the Conservator to King Antiochus."
"The Palace? Where is this Palace?" Of course, Kaeso never been to the city proper, as neither had any others on the three ships. Just as with Rome and Athens, Antioch was not situated on the shoreline of the Great Sea, but inland about twenty stadia. The community that he - and all sailors - called Antioch, was just the port, large in itself, but not the actual domain of that name.
Julius shook his head in ignorance. "Somewhere to the east and in the city is the extent of my knowing."
"Antiochus is here?" This was Captain Fundanus. "Then why has this rat, Dionysophanes, not been nailed to a crossbeam?"
Julius shook his head. "Nay. The King and his dam could be at the pillars of Hercules for the extent of my knowledge, but I muchly doubt he is in the city. There has been no word of a royal entry, and a monarch that is required to skulk in hiding from his citizens is not long to be a ruler." He looked up and around into the harbor again, then finished with, "My last knowing was that both were in their ruling city of Damascus, and that is almost three thousand stadia to the south."
Now, Julius waved the exclamations and questions to silence. "He sends word for us to stand out and with immediacy." He looked back into the port, then said, "There is much that Melglos has written - far too much for my understanding with haste, but his warning is specific." Now to the other two Captains, he asked, "Do either of you know of some seaport with the name of Persidium?"
Fundanus shook his head, but Decimus nodded. "Aye. It is a backwash of no importance..." He stopped to search a memory from some distance, then, "South, it lies. About a hundred stadia and ten more, mayhap."
"How many men are away from the ships?" This was a question to both Captains and Kaeso.
His first mate answered. "The usual off watch." Kaeso pointed. "There is Pullus, standing sentry outside the taburna." Julius knew that all the men were restricted to the closest wineshop, and that a man was always posted to give watch for the recall flag. "Shall I hoist the return streamer?"
Julius waved a hand in negation. "Nay. Make ready to set sail, but I will take the recall." As the men moved to the sudden duty, he walked down the boarding plank and across the road to the taverna. Like all around the port - and in fact, any harbor on the Great Sea - it was nothing but a large structure with rough-hewn tables and benches. This being early morning, the usual crowd was absent, but enough of the local idlers were inside for his use. As he walked to the tables of his men, one saw his approach and gave notice to his fellows. Immediately, all rose in wait for what they knew was probably the reason for their leader to appear. "Empty your cups, men. We are standing out for Latium within the hour."
As he hoped, a query came from one of the men - a sailor from the merchant ship. "Our task is completed here, Capitaneus?"
Julius shook his head, replying in a voice that would carry across the taburna. "Nay, but this putrid city is not worth the effort and coin to maintain a trading establishment. We will depart and allow those traders without good judgement and wit to make their transactions with the foul merchants and magistrates of Antioch." He turned and strode for the door, confident that the local patrons of the taburna would carry their tales to the full extent of the city - and quickly.
Soon, the three ships were in full sail to the west.
Cha
pter 25
Their westerly pointing lasted only until the port of Antioch disappeared below the eastern horizon, then the bows were turned south, to follow the eastern shore of the Great Sea. The winds were good and their destination was reached long before the end of the day. The small city - or village, rather - of Persidium was far too close to Antioch for the three ships to enter and dock. Julius had no doubt that word would reach the large city before the sunrise, giving total negation to the tale he had spouted loudly before the patrons of the taverna. As the Petrel and the merchant lay on the horizon with sails on deck, the swift speculatoria under Captain Decimus hove in to ascertain if the big Thracian was indeed in wait. Judoc had been sent with the swift vessel, as a man that Melglos would recognize as one of the small fleet.