by Ken Farmer
"I have already sounded the bilge, Capitaneus. There is no water in entry. The dexter rails are broken for three strides at the fifth member, but I feel no sprung planks."
None returned to their mats, merely taking their ease on the deck until the first gleams of dawn-light began to show. Sunrise in this small city, shadowed by the massive mountain to the east, was always far later than would be normal only a few stadia either way along the coast, but soon the glow of morning gave goodly vision across the harbor.
Flavius could already be heard below, sawing limber to repair the damage done by the collision in the night - minor damage, mostly to the rails along the beam, but the Carpenter was known to be irate if the hull even gave scrape to a wharfside.
Densus was pointing and waving here and there toward the city. "The citizens are making ready to depart." Indeed, several carts and many asses were seen to be burdened with bundles and such. But...
Julius turned and called a command, "Ngozi, Judoc. Pull the anchor stone but balance it for immediate drop. Densus, pole us closer to the wharf." With Flavius called from below, and Judoc waiting in the bow to push the heavy stone into the water, all began to slowly push the Petrel toward the shoreline with the long lengths of cane. Even Caesar and his man, Rufus, lent a hand at the task.
Unless some adversary unit of bowmen appeared on the land, even ten strides of water would be sufficient for the safety of the ship. And at that distance, the crewman from Gaul pushed the anchor overboard.
Now, the truth of the situation was clear. The citizenry was not preparing to leave - the city was being looted. They watched in some disbelief for a while, then Maccalus said, "Capitaneus. You gave that the army in wait was with three thousand Legionaries. Are they still unaware in their tents?"
"Nay," replied Caesar. "The Praetor, Clodius, did not have a Legion - his men are merely imaginariae militiae - men from city watch units and enforcers for the Aedilis and Vigilis throughout the land. A veteran Legion from Hispania or such would carve a band of slaves as ragged meats for the dogs."
"I see no piles of dead," said Flavius. "Where are the people of the city?"
Now Julius answered, "I would give that the mass of torches from the night was the citizenry fleeing for their lives." He pointed. "And most probably to the city of Pompeii. It is only a few stadia down the coast."
"What of Neápolis?", asked Densus. "Should we not give warning of a band of brutal slaves now without control?"
"Nay. They will well know of it by now." Julius was continuing to gaze back and forth along the harbor front even as he spoke. "Many of these citizens will have gained that city and with their breathless tales giving alarm to all. Besides, Neápolis is a vastly more difficult mark than this little city, with walls and gates fully manned by now, without doubt."
Caesar now said, quietly, "You are in search of your message runner." It was not a question.
"Aye. I was with hope that he would appear, but..." He spread his hands in mock despair. "Nada knows of the place of my house. Mayhap he will appear there eventually."
The hours passed, then quickly the movement along the port road ceased, the asses and carts disappearing from the city. Obviously the band of raiders had gained their orders to march. Julius waited another hour, all watching for movement along the road, but saw very little. A man skulking here and another in run there, but little else.
Finally, he said, "I will swim ashore and climb the hill to ascertain if the city is indeed deserted. Densus, have the sling-rope ready if I appear in run for my life."
"Capitaneus, I will give accompany." This was Ngozi, unwilling to be a mere observer if his Master was moving into peril.
"Nay, my friend. The water is not deep, but it is over your head, and you swim with all the ability of a rock." He looked around at the crew, all wishing to move ashore with their Captain. "This is not a fighting intrusion, but as a mouse looking to see if the Matron has left her kitchen."
"Capitaneus." This was Caesar. "Let my man give accompaniment to watch your back." A smile and a wave at Rufus, then, "He can teach the fish their water work, and a Legionary the use of his iron."
Another pair of eyes would be a comfort, indeed. He measured the man, standing beside his noble master and with little apparent concern at the offer made on his part. "What do you say, Rufus. I suspect we will find nothing but spirits, but it mayhap we will pass close to the wharf of the ferryman."
The man grinned, then said, "I have made the close passage more than once and he has yet to take fee from myself."
Julius gave a smile back, then cinched his belt tighter, dropping the small blade, the pugio, to the deck. He would take only his gladius and wear only a tunic and sandals. As he had said, the water was deeper than a man for about five strides, but even so, the less metal that a swimming man carried the greater chance his head would arise from the water again.
The Petrel was about ten strides from the dock, the wind giving weather-vaning to point the stern at an angle toward the land. Nodding to Rufus, who had copied the Captain with his garb and lightened belt, he ran and jumped as far as possible. Spearing into the water, his feet hit bottom immediately, and with a lunge of bent knees, he propelled his body toward the shore and his head above water for a breathing moment. Quickly, both men were in the shallow rise to the shoreline and waded ashore.
Moving along the port road for a very short distance, they turned to walk up the sloping street to the level of the city, a distance of only about twenty strides. There, was the street that edged the shallow cliff overlooking the water. Both looked along the via, but saw nothing but discarded trash, no doubt the result of the looting during the morning. There were no bodies, which was of some puzzle to Julius. This was a particularly benign uprising to have no blood spilled in the action.
Unlike his impression from the ship, the city had not been burned - at least not as a general conflagration. The merchantries and houses on this street were still whole and not showing or smelling of smoke, although the street in its entire length looked as after an entire feast day in the Forum, with trash and debris covering the stones of the pave.
He turned the steps of the pair into the city, wanting to reach the point where the encampment of the Praetor was - or more likely, had been. Without realization, both men had gladii in hand and at the ready, and such almost gained blood at the first corner of the building they were passing. A man suddenly appeared from a doorway, giving surprise to all, even himself. Julius managed to pull his arm back that the man not be sliced by the blade that had instantly moved to become between the wielder and the sudden apparition.
Instantly, he saw that it was an oldster - a graybeard in fact. "By the gods, gaffer! You almost joined your ancestors and no mistake!"
"Your pardon, Sos. I did not hear your approach..."
"Who are you?" demanded Julius. "One of the city, or of the pillagers? Slave or freedman?" he added.
"Naevius, Sos. Porter to the Sutorius, Atilius." The man shook his head. "I am a citizen of Herculaneum, birthed and raised here and never a bondman, Sos."
A cobbler, then. Or rather, a servant for such. "Where is your master?"
"Fled in the night, Sos." He realized that Julius was waiting for more words, then continued, "I have little breath for long travel and I remained behind to give watch over the dwelling of the Sutorius."
"What happened in the night?"
"I know little, Sos. The men came to plunder, but the abode of Sutorius has no weapons and little food. They left without harm to myself and I remained in the back storeroom until now."
"Sos." This was Rufus. Julius looked along his pointing arm. Leaving the oldster, they walked along the street, carefully watching at every doorway and alley that was passed, until they came upon the two figures on the cobblestones.
Bodies they were, and made so violently. Finally, Julius said to his companion, "They appear to be part of the militia of Clodius, and cut down as they were fleeing." He did not have to po
int to the deep gashes - such that were only in the backside of the two men.
The next turn of the street gave them a view of the mountain, and the encampments at the beginning of the slope. Their feet brought both to a stop, without either realizing the sudden halt. After gazing across the fields for an unknown time, Rufus said, "That gives us what was in flames in the night."
Indeed, what had been almost a city of tents in the officers compound was now just a blackened field of ashes. Around both sides of the mountain they could see that the outlying camps of the soldiers were also nothing but wisps of smoke, the fires long burned to nothing. Julius nodded slowly, then said, "Aye, but that little matters to the men of the Praetor, now. They are beyond needing shelter. Come, there is little more to see here."
Again the two men moved along the deserted and debris strewn streets of Herculaneum, but now even while as watchful as before, their stride was long and quick. Soon they could see the Petrel in wait in the empty harbor, the crew lining the rails in watch for the two men. Even as they approached, Densus had the stone raised and the vessel poled to just touch the wharf. Both jumped on board, Julius calling the command, "Make sail for Neápolis."
Quickly, the ship was standing out of the harbor, taking the tack to gain distance from the land, then coming about to follow the coast the short distance to their destination. The vessel in trim, all gathered by the rudder to hear the finding of the two men.
"Your journey was short," said Caesar. "Not even the half part of an hour."
Julius nodded. "Aye, it took little time to see a vision of Hades, and no mistake." He paused, looking back at the city on the shore, making his own thoughts, but then continued, "The soldiers have been slaughtered, and without apparently with little notice of their impending doom. The sparks in the darkness were the tents in flame. It is obvious that the slaves on the mountain attacked in force, and with suddenness in the night."
"The taburna gab was that the rebels were trapped at the summit, and with only a single path to descend," objected Densus.
Julius shook his head with some force. "I would give that the slaves were not informed of their entrapment. The deed was not done by a line of thirsty men walking in file from the heights. Clodius was hit from both sides and fiercely."
"How do you know such?" asked Caesar.
"Because the bodies were in piles in the area of the command encampment. The two units of soldiers were obviously pushed back and all met in the middle, where they were slain between two attacking groups. That is the only explanation that fits the sight that we saw." He looked at Rufus, who nodded in agreement. "This was not a battle with desperate men trying to escape entrapment. It was an attack, planned and executed as if led by some shade of Cincinnatus, himself and without the soldiers even knowing of their doom until it was on them. What Commander of any veteran Legion has such faith in the ability of his men to stage a coordinated attack on a night of no moon and in total silence?"
"The tents," said Caesar. "The burning canvas is what gave them the light to give battle in the night." He hesitated, then asked, "There was no sign of the slaves? They fought then fled... where?"
"Again, this was not a desperate battle, but a planned campaign. The dead were stripped of armor and weapons. The asses and carts and wagons were taken, no doubt filled with the kit of the soldiers. The city was not destroyed, nor fired, nor did we see any slain citizens. Indeed, we met an oldster who had been in his merchantry when the slaves came to search, and was left unharmed. It is obvious that the city was only entered to gain foodstuffs."
"Was there any sign of Clodius?" asked Caesar.
"I have little doubt that he is giving explanations to the dark lord even now. Without knowledge of such, I would guess that he was as surprised as any, then overwhelmed by the men fleeing from both directions, to meet in a crush of frantic soldiers without even room to swing a blade, even assuming that any had taken their swords in the sudden fright." He paused, then pursed his lips, saying, "We could have walked from the edge of the city to the slope of the mountain without setting sandal on other than bodies."
Neápolis was quickly reached, the distance only a sixty stadia or so. The city was in ferment, many of the younger citizens of Herculaneum having already made the distance by road, spreading their tales of disaster and defeat.
Julius led Caesar and his man up the road to Capua, their horses reaching it by mid-afternoon, and finding the same froth of rumor and unsubstantiated tales. Without entering the household, something that Julius knew would delay their reporting by an hour or more, they set foot immediately to the Tabularium. Their entry - a surprise - was as if the winged messenger Mercury had arrived. Julius had barely acknowledged his brother before the furious questions came at once and from all within, as a flood of water into a ruptured hull. Finally, the Burgimagister shouted all to silence, then waved Julius to give their tale.
Within the hour, a scroll - two, in actuality - were penned, giving the details of the disaster and the complete destruction of the force sent to give corral to the slave rebellion, then given to a mounted messenger with instructions to not stop until the Senate in Rome was reached. In the half of an hour, the copy was given to another, and sent on its way. Finally, the two brothers and Caesar and his man walked back to the Clavius household for rest and some food - and to face another furious round of questions from the women of the family.
In the evening relaxation, all reclining in the large atrium, Caesar said, "I will return to Rome on the morrow. It may be that my appointment to the Consul in Pontus may be delayed." He waved away a fill of his cup, then nodded to Julius. "I once offered you the post of Admiral, in my fantasy of becoming some major player in the realm of Rome in the future - and that is still in standing, but now I extend a real proposition." All in the room were now gazing with some anticipation at their guest. "Your gift of unease in approach of peril is real, and even such a dullard as myself can see that now. You see beyond your eyes, and make goodly use of thought where other men only give credence to their own opinions. Such a man would be more valuable than a maniple of veterans for a Commander. I believe that I can convince the Senate to bestow the rank of Tribunus Laticlavius to yourself. Your household would have a noble title indeed, for the family chronicles, and I would have a Second in command that I could trust." He looked at Camelia with a smile, saying, "Have no fear, my lady. Such as he would only see battle from afar - indeed, from a position more secure than the deck of a vessel coursing through pirate-infested waters."
She smiled in return. "I am grateful for the assurance, but I do not give plan to the future of my husband. He will be the one who gives determination of his own destiny."
"Mayhap you would become a Dux, after some desperate battle in far lands," said Aulius.
It was a jape, of course, and gained laughter from the family, but Julius could see that his mate was forcing her mirth. He spoke quickly to give assurance. "It would certainly be an honor for myself, and my household. And... I can think of few men that I would rather have as Commander than yourself..."
"But your life is the sea, and such a mistress is difficult to abandon, even when one has been given such a superior replacement." Caesar nodded at Camelia. "Be at ease, Capitaneus. I knew full well that such an offer would find little chance of detaching you from your beloved Petrel, but know that tender was genuine."
The evening passed pleasantly and on the morning, their guest and man were sent on their way with full bellies and a heavy bag of traveling rations. And an assurance of a goodsome shelter when again they came to Capua.
Chapter 39
The quarter month passed with no threat appearing from the wilderness. Scouts had given that the rebellious slaves had made encampment on the far side of the mountain called Vesuvius, but had not given menace to any major cities. The citizenry of Capua and the nearby villages were naturally more concerned by the peril of a roving band of raiders than Rome, a thousand stadia to the north. There, the city was ind
ignant that three thousand soldiers had been routed - nay, slaughtered - by mere slaves. The shade of the Praetor, Clodius Glaber, was roundly condemned for his lack of leadership. Another force was in the process of being assembled - two Legions under the command of the Praetor Publius Varinius.