Insurgent of Rome

by Ken Farmer

  Julius had spoken to the girl in private, giving his opinion that the throne of Antiochus was unlikely to survive for more than a few seasons at the most. With empires on two sides and a grasping Republic on another - any one of which was vastly larger and more powerful than the domain of Antiochus - it was just a matter of one power or another eventually turning their attention to this land.

  "I have no use for granary storage, your Majesty," said Pontika. "I am not a merchant and both age and gender would not allow me to become such." She waved a hand at Julius. "My friends will soon set sail and leave me as a mere Korí without place." The Queen Mother knew the girl was leading up to something long decided, and merely smiled and nodded for her to continue. "I have a friend in Capua, a woman of high birth, and who has offered me instruction, and a place when I have gained my years. Without rejecting my birth-city, I would take advantage of her generosity."

  "Nay, child. From the tales, you have done much for your friends, but also, for the family of Antiochus. We cannot just allow you to depart as if a discarded laborer, and without reward." She pursed her lips, then said, "The Throne will take possession of the warehouses of your Patéras, tendering you the value-price of the property. Thus, you will not be found as a penurious waif, in whatever domain you decide to settle."

  "You are most generous, your Majesty."

  Now Julius spoke. "As a Roman, I have little knowledge of either thrones or kings, as you may know..." The royal woman gave a wry smile at the obvious statement, but waited for his words. "As I believe, there is such a thing as... a patent of nobility, I believe it is called? A reward for goodsome service to the Throne? Aye, with such, a young femina would have a vastly superior chance of attainment in the domain of Latium. And even in Antioch, should she decide to return to her birthplace in future years."

  And so it was decreed, in full court and as one of the first actions of the returned King. The little shipmate of the Petrel became Pontika Minthe of the family, Echemmon, honored by the Throne and with all privileges of such elevation. At the ceremony, as Julius and Melglos looked on, he smiled to himself. In the Roman domains, such sudden ascension of a mere commoner's daughter might be considered an unearned contrivance, but... there was a distance of more than ten thousand stadia of water between Capua and Antioch. Far more than enough to prevent any tongues from wagging about the Korí. She would appear as what she was, an orphan from some Greek land to the east, but with the tale of a little port-rat with a hull-scraper buried in her memory - and those of her friends on the Petrel.

  Finally, a month after the disposing of Dionysophanes, the Petrel turned her forepeak to the west. As to the man himself, Julius never again laid eyes on the despicable merchant, nor did he hear any word of his fate.

  Nor did he care, in the slightest.

  The gods of the wind, the Venti, were kind and the ship hove into Neápolis before the Ides of the month. Already there was the big merchant with the two masts, careened on the sands with an army of laborers swarming over it. Kaeso had seen the Petrel arrive, and was waiting on the wharf as the dock lines were thrown to the bollards. "Greetings, Capitaneus," said the man, with a grin. "One hopes that the end of the mission was satisfactory."

  "If you mean that we left that misbegotten land with whole skins, aye," replied Julius with a mock frown. He pointed. "I see that the yardmaster has a low opinion of the seaworthiness of your vessel."

  Kaeso shook his head with a wry expression. "You know old Lartius, Sos, and his belief that the shipwrights of other lands are competent to build fishing smacks and little else. To him, a seam that leaks a cup of water in the hour is as if the hole were made by a ram-ship."

  Julius nodded. "I regret your delay in resuming your Captaincy, but you may console yourself that you will receive a hull without defects." He stopped, seeing the widened eyes looking beyond his shoulder and at the Petrel.

  "Is... Is that Pontika? By the gods, what transformation is this?"

  Grinning again, Julius said, "Ah. Aye, a noble passenger engaged us for the voyage." Before the new Captain could ask his inevitable questions, he continued, "Take the crew for cups - they will give you the story, but remember that it is for the ears of the Petrel only - and yourself."

  Rather than gaining steeds from the family stables, which Patroclus would be unable to mount, he called for a wagon. Soon they - and the Korí - were riding up the road to Capua.

  The arrival was as expected - turning into a festival by the family, with a feast that would have fed a fleet of ships. After the obligatory hour of talk with the Matrons of the house, he and his brother retired to the terrace, that the elder might have the tale of the mission. Finally, as the sun was setting, Aulius said, "Now... About the matter that you set upon myself in your missive." He grinned. "This would be proceedings for our good Pater, but in his absence, I find it my duty." Julius knew what was coming, but he just sat with a smile and waited. "The Dominus, Gnaeus Calvinus, has given consent to my request for your nuptials to the noble Camelia." Now his brother chuckled. "He was formal in the discussion, but I would give goodly wager that he was dancing in the atrium when I left his household."

  In the following month, the women of both households were as the sprites of Olympus, happily planning and arranging, almost gamboling between the two households in their enthusiasm for the proposed joining. The priests had been consulted, and they gave that the gods were willing for the union, bringing a sardonic comment from Patroclus, now happily back in his cluttered map room and making a goodly recovery from his hurts. "It would take a brave priest to tell the noble Camilia that the nuptials were forbidden. I would wager that she would use her little blade to gut the man even on the floor of his own temple."

  For Julius, the wondrous effect of the announcement of nuptials, was that the continual flow of Matrons and unwed daughters into the household of Clavius was now ended.

  But, now the day had come, and the bride was in sight down the paved Via. And a goodly sight she was. Naturally, Camilia was garbed in traditional style, with a pure white muslin stola and a cingulum - a girdle - that was encircled by a belt with a single knot. Her hair was arranged in the classic cone shape, with its six ritual wedding locks, and her face was covered with the flammeum - the flame-colored wedding veil.

  To Julius, the ceremony went by with the pace of a vessel becalmed. The priests droned their ritual proclamations, the woman made the traditional pose of fear when her proposed mate approached, but finally the belt with the single knot was untied and the joining was completed. The celebrations went on, however, through the city as the couple walked back to their household, but even there, the day was not ended. The traditional wedding feast was ready, the guests filling the atrium to overflowing, with tables even in the conservatory and foyer.

  Guests paraded by with their cups, in offer of goodly hopes in the life of the new couple. Gnaeus and his wife, Titinia, of course - the parents of Camelia, with her brother, Marcus, and his mate. The city Aedilis, of unremembered name, led a long procession of city officials and Magistrates, all in desire of paying their complements to a member of the wealthy family. Intermixed with such were also various nobles from around the City, and young men that had once been center to the life of a growing boy, but now barely remembered.

  Then, "My felicitations, Master Clavius. Few men can pick such a flower as you have found for your garden." This was the Lanista, Gnaeus Batiatus, the owner of the greatest training facility in all Latium, supplying the various circuses and stadiums with gladiators. Of middle age, portly and with curled hair in the Greek fashion, he was overly scented with some juice of flower. His wife was also of the same roundness - apparently the table of his household was overly supplied with delectable viands, and in quantity.

  The noble was one of the wealthiest men in all of Latium.

  Julius had once toured the training school with his father as a young boy. The single visit was enough. He had left disgusted with the waste of men for the pleasure of
others. Alas, the conventions did not allow for honest expression of thought on such occasion as this day - rather, he took the compliment with a graciousness that he did not feel.

  As usual in such circumstances, the woman was enjoying the day and the felicitations of the guests and well-wishers, while the man was wondering at the progress of the sun, apparently almost halted in its movement of the day. His anticipation of the next seven days, in which neither man or mate would be seen to leave their quarters, was growing at the same haste that the day was slowing. The expression on his face had been held in constant smile, and now with the fear that the sinews in his jaws were mayhap frozen in that expression forever.

  But for one guest, the expression was real.

  "My congratulations, Capitaneus. And noble Matron."

  Both gave genuine smiles to the Kori... although, she was now to be called a femina. Pontika still had a considerable accent, of course, but her diction was usually correct - a result of the daily sessions with the Pedagogue in the house of the bride. The girl had been presented to the city as an orphanus, newly come from the Greek city of Antioch, and the only survivor of a noble merchant of that city. All such statements were truthsome - now. Her reason for being in Capua was told to be as a result of the gallant assistance that she had given the noble Camelia in some distant clime - also a true statement. She had received a considerable purse of gold from the Royal Family of Antioch, in the putative purchase of the warehouses of her Patéras, but far more as her share from the chests of the evil merchant.

  As the wealthy and attractive woman she would become in less than a handful of years, Julius had little doubt that the young nobles of the city would be clamoring for their Paters to approach and ask for her as mate.

  "You must needs stay with my family for the next seven days," said Camelia. "But, after, your place will be with us in the home of Clavius."

  The girl grinned, her expression as bright as ever. "I would rather take ship with the... with your Capitaneus as his ship's boy."

  Now Julius actually laughed. "And you must believe me when I say that, would the forms allow it, you would be there. And not as scullery boy, but as a valued member of the Petrel."

  Chapter 34

  The following year was far less eventful than the previous. As had been suggested by Patroclus, the Petrel did not wander around the Great Sea in a year-long voyage to one port after another. Rather, it would complete a mission, then use its considerable pace to return to Capua for rest and wait for another need.

  The gods had apparently smiled on the newly joined couple, allowing them to regain the time lost in their making of tardy nuptials. After the month of settling the pair into their new home and life, Julius had taken a voyage to Kyrēnē, on the southern coast of the Great Sea, returning to find his mate in extremis upon wakening each morning. Despite the seemingly undesirable malady, the Grand Domina, his Mother, was with considerable joy for the reason. "It is the goddess, Diana, giving purge to her body to make room for the new life within."

  With a feeling of goodness, but shaking his head over the unfamiliar being of a woman, he confined himself to the offices of his brother, looking over reports from the yardmaster in Neápolis as each of the family ships returned with lading. On occasion, he would ride to the port to spend the day and night to examine a vessel and converse with the Captain and the shipwright. Of course, if Lartius gave need of this repair or not, Julius merely nodded in acquiescence. The old yardmaster had been building and maintaining ships since long before either Julius or his brother came into the world, and even since their father, before them, had been in his youth.

  On infrequent occasions, a crewman from the Petrel would walk the distance to Capua, knowing that the family household had goodly quarters and better meals for their use. Melglos made the trip more than the others, and with Pontika and Patroclus would walk the streets of Capua together. The trio were from the same land, spoke the same mother-tongue and most importantly, were bound by blood, both taken and spilled. The femina was grateful for the men - and all in the Petrel - for rescuing her from a life at the bottom of a harbor-society - a life that would probably have been short and with much unpleasantness. The Sage knew of the blood spilled by both Ngozi and the Thracian in his deliverance from certain death by the toughs of Dionysophanes.

  As for Melglos, he had seen the incredible actions of a mere girl in situations that would have caused many men to flee for their lives, and more than once in assistance to himself in remaining alive. All in the crew of the Petrel would descend in wrath upon any man so unwise as to offer unpleasantness to the girl, but Julius knew that Melglos would probably carve any harasser to ragged meat for even a slanted word to his little friend. At the thought, he chuckled to himself at the idea of the future woman, nubile and ready for a mate, having the big Thracian as sentry against any young man desiring to hold court. Melglos would be more critical than a doting father.

  With the alliance of Rhodes with Rome, many years before the births of the Clavius brothers, the control of the sea fell to the fleets of Latium. Unfortunately, such flotillae did not exist - the land-bound Senators seeing little reason to spend gold on expensive warships. Piracy had begun to flourish in the eastern reaches of the Great Sea, and seemed to grow worse with every year. The ships of the family were well protected by crews skilled in both blade and bow, but even the greatest army can receive a defeat on occasion. For a vessel, it could be a period of becalmed wind in an area of oar-driven galleys, a shriven mast at the wrong moment of maneuver, or an overwhelming attack from all quarters.

  With Patroclus, he began to examine their merchant fleet, ship by ship. Those that were fastest, and large enough to hold a considerable crew were assigned to that eastern section of the Sea. The slower and smaller craft would work the routes south and west, to Hispania, the southern domains of the Great Sea, and the big islands of Corsica, Sardinia, Sicilia and such. Even so, twice in the year the family was required to ransom both ship and crew from marauders.

  "If Rome does not wish to take the matter in hand," commented the Sage, "then I give hope that the citizenry can learn to enjoy water-greens and roasted groundnuts for their meals. If the reavers decide to move south and take the grain ships in route from Egypt, this land will become hungry in a very short time." The oldster leaned back from the huge map they had been examining, giving stretch to limbs that were still stiff from his misuse. "Mayhap your friend by the same nomen can take a hand - Caesar. He has a proven antidote for pirates."

  Julius shook his head, replying, "Nay. I fear that while he has the mettle for such, and even the desire mayhap, his skills on the water are the equal of Aulius." Both smiled, knowing that the elder brother had, many times, demonstrated the inability to float a child's board-boat in the atrium fountain. "Of course, he might engage..."

  He stopped as a servant appeared in the doorway to the scribery. "Your pardon, Master Clavius. The Dominus requests your presence in his magistracy."

  Waving his acknowledgement, Julius nodded to his old friend, walking down the hallway to the far side of the homestead and into the room that served as a casual office away from the vastly larger building that held the family merchantry billets. It was late in the evening, and his brother would normally be home, but seldom brought any business for perusal out of the offices.

  Aulius looked up from a scroll, then waved his sibling to a chair, waiting until the seat was taken. "We have a request for lading, to be received in Tyre, and brought back to Capua." Julius spread his hands in question, but without words. He had never been involved in the day to day operations, knowing little of cartage fees and charges, contracts and agreements. "I ask you because of the need of security."

  "Security?" was the reply. Tyre was far to the east on the coast, and even beyond Alexandria. Indeed, the distance was as that to Antioch.

  "For a hundred and forty condemnavi from the copper mines of the Sinai."

  Convicts? The sinews in the jaws of the younge
r man hardened. "Slaves, you mean. And who is giving us the engagement? Batiatus?"

  "Aye." Now Aulius held his hand up to halt the oncoming explosion of wrath. "Nay, brother. I have not sold our principles for mere gold. This house has never dealt in slaves, nor will it while I am head. But... Batiatus is a powerful man, and far beyond his vaults of coin. He has his tentacles into many of the nobles house of Rome, and not a few in Capua, I would give oath. We may not agree with his life and dealings, but neither can we deliberately give offense to the man."