Insurgent of Rome

by Ken Farmer

  For the nonce, the island was almost deserted, having only a handful of caretakers to keep and clean the palace for the formal arrival of the monarchs. "...aye, and when the court arrives, it will be as feast day in the Agora, and as crowded," advised Timotheus as he prepared to depart with the bulk of the retainers for Damascus - to return with the promenade of the royalty.

  Julius had dispatched a runner with a missive, ciphered as to mean nothing to any but Decimus, the Captain of the speculatoria. That small boat would touch briefly at the port of Persidium, and just after darkfall, allowing a man to run to a particular taverna to determine if a missive had arrived, to be held by the Caupo until retrieved. The taverna owner had been contracted - with a round of silver, and a promise of another with each delivered message - before the six had begun the march to Antioch. For this single dispatch, it contained nothing but notice to return for another in five days. That would allow the little boat to port in Salamis, rather than bob in the waves for endless days to no purpose.

  The men walked and slept fully armed, and always with one on watch in the night. They would have done so as a matter of course, but the days gave full proof that they were not in a land of friends...

  "Where are Melglos and Pontika?" It was a question from the Julius, but not with expectation of answer. In their opulent quarters, adjoining the palace, the evening meal was being placed and the sun less than the part of an hour from setting.

  "They wandered out after the noon meal," said Flavius. "I saw them standing at the statue of... the one on the road to the east bridge."

  Julius nodded. The huge white figure of Apollo was in a small circle that served as an intersection for five streets on the island, and was passed by any that were moving on that end of the island. But, it did not give clue to the whereabouts of the pair. He waved the other two men to take their meal, then moved down the hall to the entrance of the building. By walking into the courtyard, he could see in three directions, down the wide avenues to the extent of the island. Only the south view was blocked by the massive edifice of the palace. A few figures could be seen moving here and there between the buildings that occupied at the present - the cookery, slave and servant quarters, a warehouse or two apparently. But none were a large man and small girl in companionship. Vaguely, troubled, he was about to turn and reenter for his meal when he saw two men in a dead run - guardsmen - coming down the street to the north. As he watched, they reached the intersection in front of the palace, then turn to continue their pace toward the western bridge - the span over which the four men and girl had entered the island.

  Soldiers - or rather guardsmen attached to the Royal unit - were not an unusual sight in that western part of the compound - the main barracks was situated there, but these two had news to report, obviously, and such that would not brook delay. Even more troubled now, he looked in the direction that the pair had come, seeing nothing but a deserted street, leading to an equally empty section of the island. On an impulse, he began to run toward the housing of the soldiers, but turning aside that he might approach from a narrow alley, rather than the wide avenue. He had barely reached a crossing lane that allowed him to both see and hear into the compound of the barracks, when the assembly call was sounded.

  Quickly the grounds filled with the guardsmen, pouring from the buildings - about the equivalent of a half-century or so, most still fastening their kit around themselves as they hurried to formation. At the command to stance, an officer began to speak hurriedly, then motioning here and there, told off the men to form several units, each with a different destination.

  Julius did not wait to hear more, but now ran back to the quarters bursting into the common room, his entry throwing a serving man and his burden to the floor. Flavius and Maccalus jumped to their feet, knowing that their leader was not bringing words of honey and sweetness. "Leave us!" he barked to the several servants in the room. "And with haste!" As the retainers fled the room, he said in an urgent, but lowered voice. "Get our kit! And all of it! We must needs disappear, and this instant else we will be spitted like fowls over the fire of a hunter."

  Both men did not query the order, knocking and throwing chairs out of the way in the hurry to their sleeping quarters. In less time than the serving girl could have filled the cups, the three men were out the front entrance and moving rapidly down the road to the east. "We will cross at the southernmost bridge into the city."

  "What is our destination?" asked Flavius.

  "You will have to query the lord of Hades for that. For the nonce, we are trying to avoid using the ferry over the Styx." As the distance was only about a stadium, they reached the span quickly. "Maintain an aspect of men entering the city for pleasure as we cross. The guards cannot have received any orders about ourselves as yet." Indeed, they had not. As they entered the wooden span, Manilus loudly chatted some inanities to his companions - in the local tongue - about the hope that a certain trull might be available again this night. Both men just grinned and nodded as they passed the four men in guard, merely waving and being waved on in return.

  Turning a corner, now hidden from the guards at the span, their pace returned to a fast step, almost a lope. The night was falling rapidly, but he did not stop their route step until the southern end of the city was reached, finally turning into the gate of a devorsorium - although in this land, the inn would be called a pandocheío. He gave self-praise to himself for the impulse to allow their beards to grow. By now, they were indistinguishable from men in this land, rather than being clean shaven Romans, to stand out as apples in a bin of nuts.

  Giving the Caupo - again, the innkeeper being a panikofýlakas in the land of the Greeks - a tale of arriving from the south on a mission of trade, they purchased a room and a meal for the night. At a table in the corner, Julius waited until the fat inn-wife had delivered the platter of meats and the wine-wench the cups and departed. Then... "I could hear the officer give that a guardsman was found slain, with his weapons and mate apparently taken. He also said that the crime was committed by the large man that had arrived with three others and a boy."

  "Melglos slew a guard?" said Maccalus, with some incredulity. "Why would he do so?"

  Flavius set his cup down and gestured with both hands open. "Our big friend has an ire that is easily kindled, but I hesitate to think that he would allow his wrath to reach into slaying a guardsman, and while the femina was in companionship."

  "I believe he did not," said Julius. "I have little doubt that the guard... guards were the instigators of the strife. And at least one was so unwise as to match iron with the Thracian. Or, mayhap they came for Pontika, for whatever reason, and Melglos gave disagreement for the action."

  "Why did not the commander send an entire Contubernium, rather than two men?" asked Maccalus.

  Julius snorted. "Think you that I was at the command table of the Royal guards, to hear the orders as given? Mayhap all were away at the taverna and that pair was all that he could find." More seriously, he continued, "It could be that the Commander of the guards disliked not knowing the reason for five strangers come to Antioch, and apparently with the auspices of the King. Magistrates and Vigilis are seldom comfortable with the unknown, especially close at hand." Waving for the cup-wench, he waited for the jug to be poured, then said, "Nay. My thoughts are that someone - the guard Captain, his superior, anyone - wanted to know the reason for our being here, and for the learning to be kept from general knowledge. Had he sent a large unit, the task would have been babbled around the taverna before their cups were filled for the night. Thusly, a pair of men - no doubt trusted and reliable - were sent to either question or follow Melglos."

  "Could the King himself be the instigator?" asked Flavius.

  Julius shook his head. "Kings and Queens do not need deception to lop heads from any that give them worry. And, from my converse with the Sage, the dynasty of Antiochus has always been particularly inclined to shorten anyone thought to be the slightest threat."

  "I would say th
at the guards made stumble across our big shipmate, and words flew to heat the blood of all," said Flavius. "Melglos has done so ere now."

  "Nay, you miss the significance of the matter. The two who stumbled upon the crime, apparently in look for their mates, reported only that a guardsman was found slain and one in extremis. That is all they could know, since the miscreants were obviously gone." Both men slowly shook their heads, still without understanding of the meaning of their leader. "How did the guard officer know that our big Thracian was the culprit, unless he was in knowledge of the reason for men sent to either accost or apprehend our friend?"

  Flavius nodded. "By the gods. You are right." A pause, then, "But why did they not come for us?"

  "And why did they have need of accosting Melglos?" added Maccalus.

  Julius had more in his thoughts than discussing the unknowable. Was Melglos still alive - and Pontika? And if so, how would they join their mates when both pieces of his unit were in hiding? Indicating his need to empty his water, he wandered to the back door, then around the building, the layout of the inn barely discernible in the light of the single torch over the entry to the latrine. Finally, he returned to sit with his men. Quietly, he said, "This devorsorium is a coney trap, should the guards come to ask of strangers. We will make a presentation of retiring to our room, but we will bed down on the straw of the stables, behind this building. The night is clement and we will need no cover against rain or cold. I will take the last watch."

  The first light of day had not even begin, when Julius prodded his two crewmen awake. He had spent the entirety of his watch in thought and planning. "Take your kit. We must needs cross the Daphne bridge before sunup." He had only a vague idea where that span was, but as they were in the south of the city, it could only be a short distance to the west. Quickly, they gathered their bags, then quietly rounded the building into the street. Fortunately, the night was reasonably clear and gave primary directions. Quickly, they were at a street that fronted the river, but in the darkness little could be seen as yet. Taking assumption of their place, he set their course back north and was rewarded to see the faint outline of the bridge after only a few hundred paces. When the first glow began in the east, they were beyond the river and three stadia along the road - south.

  "...Melglos will make for Persidium." If the man and his young friend were still alive, came the unbidden thought. "He will know that Capitaneus Decimus will appear in the speculatoria in two days and that it is the only common place for our joining. Certainly, he will not move for the port of Antioch. With the size that the gods put on his stature, he will know that recognition by some cohort of Dionysophanes would be inevitable."

  Flavius nodded. "Aye, and there is the chance that Pontika would be remembered by some urchin, with her now garbed again in boy-disguise."

  "Might I ask, Capitaneus," said Maccalus, "what our next measures will be?"

  Julius gave a wry grimace. "A wise man would call for his ship and take the first winds away from this cursed place. But in truth, I have little thought to such as yet. Much will depend on the appearance of Melglos and Pontika. We cannot just depart without some measure of their being - or peril."

  Chapter 28

  The three men looked as if of this land, wearing short beards and the course tunics of a commoner, but... Unfortunately, should they speak, the illusion would be shattered even to a dullard. Julius spoke the tongue well, but would never be taken for a native. Flavius could order his cup in a taverna, or find his way through the Agora, but his first gab would instantly reveal himself as a visitor to this land. As for Maccalus, his proficiency was limited to giving or nodding to the words, 'aye' and 'nay.' Thusly, Julius gave warning for both to contain their speaking until they were in their room, or settled at a table in the far corner of the cookerie.

  He had ascertained from the Caupo that no missive had been sought by an arriving boat, then guided his men to a decrepit taverna - one with tables outside of the dilapidated building that gave a measure of privacy. As the two crewmen sipped from their cups, Julius was deep in thought. In actuality, he was at some loss as to their next destination - or objective, in fact. Their mission had been to regain their place in the largest trading center on the eastern shore of the Great Sea, but it had somehow plunged them into a spat between Kings and usurpers. As he had said - and thought before - the wisest move might well be to abandon this domain until sufficient blood had been let to bring stability to the land.

  Indeed, had he not been missing a crewman, and his little female ward, he might well, even now, be on the voyage back to Capua. Finally, he said quietly to his men, "We are agents from Siracusa, on Sicilia, come to walk the land in search of goodsome trading agreements for our principal." Both nodded, well knowing that their lives might be easier - and longer - were they not immediately identified as being from the environs of Rome. Sicilia had been conquered by the Legions over a hundred and a half years ago, but still remained a mixed community of Romans, Greeks, Phoenicians and men from every other domain around the Great Sea. That such men could look Greek, and speak with a Latini accent would be easy to accept. With that warning, he left to walk the port, with interest if the two-masted ship was stood in - it was not - and to allow the fresh sea winds to give enhancement to his furious thoughts.

  Little happened while the men were in wait, the two crewmen spending their time between the taverna and the brothels - and in sleep. On the third day, Julius called both men to walk with him, down the southern road to gain some privacy in their speaking. "You are engaged by the family of Clavius as seamen, not to hazard your skin in games with Kings in a far domain, thus what I ask of you now is not an order, but a request. Know that you have no requirement to take the duty, and I will not give rebuke for a refusal..."

  The winds had been as usual during the days, an as expected, Captain Decimus and his speculatoria hove into port just after darkfall. The three men were in wait, and Julius quietly hailed the boat as it touched. "Nay, Capitaneus. We will stand out immediately." Turning to his two men, he put a hand on each shoulder, then said, "In your cups and wenching, keep an eye for your environs. I will be muchly angered if you fall afoul of some putrid ruffian and I must needs trouble myself with finding replacements for men who know mast from pole."

  With that he heaved himself aboard, and both men pushed the bow of the little ship back into the water. It was turned with poles against the shallow bottom, and quickly was standing out under full sail.

  The open sea with the fresh wind abeam was a balm for his being, after the dusty roads and stench of city-life. He settled into the forepeak and allowed his thoughts to wander through his tentative plans. He had no task on the boat other than passenger - indeed, Decimus would have taken insult if Julius - the actual owner of the vessel - were to breach convention and give orders to the three crewmen. Of course, unless the appointed Captain were in sore straits, Julius would never have given thought to such offense. Nay, any orders from himself would go through the Master of the boat.

  "A handsome wind - three hands off the north." Decimus had come to the forepeak to make converse with his leader. "We will touch in Salamis in the morning hours, if the wind does not back."

  Julius knew that the man had also come forward in hopes of news, but would not ask without prompting. He waved the Master to sit, then gave the tale as he knew it, but not his plans as yet - such were not firm, but merely a loose collection of possibilities. Firstly, he asked about the being of the oldster, receiving the satisfactory news of a climb from the near death, although many months would pass before Patroclus would be striding a deck with his own feet.

  The crossing was swift and the speculatoria was both expected and watched for. The officers of his little fleet were already waiting on the deck of the Petrel when he strode aboard with Captain Decimus. "Greeting Capitaneus," said Kaeso with a wide grin. "It is a gift from the gods to find that one's leader is still unshriven and not consorting with the dark Lord."

 
Julius did not return the expression as he replied, "The Dominus of Clavius will mayhap have a different opinion, of his brother giving loss of both trade position and crew." He turned to nod to Captain Fundanus and Centurion Drusus, then saw the mat laid on the deck with an oldster grinning in his direction. Striding to kneel beside the Sage, he said with obvious pleasure. "How are faring, my old friend."

  Still holding his wide grin, Patroclus replied, "I will take my place as Archigubernus of the Petrel before the moon waxes again."

  Knowing the total falsity of that statement, Julius put a hand on the old shoulder and said, "Aye, and that will not be soon enough for myself. Without your guidance, I fear that I have led our men down some unwise paths."