Insurgent of Rome

by Ken Farmer

  Julius sent Densus with the Petrel to the port of Rome with the recall, and in a few days, had six merchants ready for the voyage. He had a large tent erected at dockside, there being no inn left unburned and the rebuilding of the port city had barely begun. Under the canvas, he spent half a day giving instructions to all six Captains as to the plan for the collective engagement of any reavers that might appear, then talked with Kaeso for the remainder of the night, both giving and taking questions and answers of anything they could imagine to occur.

  To assuage the worries of the Captains and any crew with mates, he made offer to give hosting of the women in Capua during the time of the long voyage, until the chaotic situation in the land was resolved. Some took advantage of the offer, others did not.

  Much of his time, after the six hulls disappeared over the horizon, was to give assistance to the shipwright, Lartius, in restoring the yard to use. As there were few woodmen with laborers, most slaves having been taken or joined the rebels, the process was slowed at first. Finally, another ship of the family made port, the crew stunned at the view of the burned city and the tales being given by the few remaining citizens of the port. His brother provided an Emptor from the family offices, and the purchasing scribe put on the ship to buy lumber, wine, and food from the ports to the north. The jape of Julius, that a cup of wine could be traded for a silver coin in Neápolis, was less humor than truth. Several of the taburnae were being laboriously rebuilt by the merchants, but there was little to offer even when they were opened for vending. All wine and most foodstuffs other than fish had disappeared with the revolting slaves.

  Then came the time of Camelia. With himself and his brother - and male servants - banned from the upper floors in the household, they waited as the midwives... did whatever such do at times of woman-need. But, during the wait, Pontika came down the stairs to the brothers, both reclining in the main atrium and in talk of the current crisis. Both were about to rise in anticipation when the young femina waved them to stop. "Nay, her time is not yet..." She looked around the huge room, seeing none but a servant moving along the foyer of the house. "But, just before her pains began, a man came to the door of the Cocua with a scroll for myself." The eyes of both widened knowing of what she was about to say - or rather, who the missive was from. Any usual deliverer of a message for the family would not come to the backside of the house, knocking at the door of the cook. "Melglos did not give raid to the countryside. He moved far to the south after the fight with the simpleton Commander, Vilinius, or whatever was his name, and has not returned." She sat down at the low table, crosslegged, handing over a small spindle to Julius. "I knew he would not have aborted his promise to us in not pillaging the domain of Capua."

  Julius offered the spindle to his brother, still unrolled, but Aulius waved his hand in negation. "Nay. You read it first brother. He was your man and your sense of his purpose will be much better than mine."

  The length was considerable, but Julius scanned it quickly, then offered it to his brother. "It appears that one of his Locumtenentis, by the name of Crixus, has turned rogue and decided to not wait for the campaigning weather to arrive. It was his doing to ravage the region of Campania."

  "Melglos just wants to cross over the Appenines mountains and leave this domain forever," said Pontika, pointing at the scroll.

  "Aye..." said Aulius, nodding slowly with his eyes still in reading. "But it appears that one of his Commanders has formed ideas of his own, and in thought of becoming a great conqueror." He looked up at Julius, saying, "He gives that this Crixus has taken almost thirty thousand men with him." To the femina, he asked, "How did you receive this?"

  She looked a Julius for a moment, then said quietly, "Before I left his encampment, I made him give promise to tell me of his being on occasion, reminding him that we were shipmates once... in times of more happiness. That was delivered by an oldster - a freeman who had joined Melglos out of enthusiasm of a new life, but found that existence in a soldier encampment is for the young. As our arrangement, I gave the man an aureus for his service."

  Julius nodded. That was the usual practice. A messenger was paid by the recipient rather than the sender, else there was no assurance that an unprincipled courier would not just toss the scroll or tablet and vanish with his fee. "And do you have arrangements in return?"

  She nodded. "Aye. There is a taburna in Rheginum. A message can be given to a man there, who will return it to Melglos. And another in Paestum. I have the names of the taburnae and the man who will assign the messenger on a scroll in my room."

  "Have you done so?" asked Aulius.

  She shook her head. "Nay, not as yet, but I would greatly wish to give my greetings to our friend, if you have any ship that will touch in either of those ports."

  Chapter 45

  For a while, the joy of a new son entering the household of the Clavius family pushed away the dire news of the land, but as the weather began its inevitable warming, the forces in the land began to stir again. The citizens of Capua were cheered to see a preamble of Roman cavalry appear on the Appian Via from the north, followed by four Legions under the commands of Consuls Lucius Gellius and Gnaeus Lentulus. As the main body of the rebelling slaves was still far to the south, the Commanders set their path to the east, into the region of Apulia, ravaged during the winter by the forces with the Lieutenant of Melglos, Crixus.

  Almost the entirety of the family fleet was contracted to move supplies for the Legions around the peninsula of Latium to the port of Barnum - that large city still secure behind well-found walls. The Petrel guided the large convoys on the voyages twice, giving a huge stockpile of materials for the coming campaign.

  As the leading ship of the family was far more nimble than the loaded store-ships, the Petrel put into both ports of Rheginum and Paestum, leaving duplicated messages to be taken - hopefully - to Melglos. The messages were two - one each from Julius and Pontika.

  The results and news were finally goodsome. There was much celebration in Capua, and no doubt Rome and other cities, at the news of success by the Consuls. Splitting their forces in twain, they trapped the rebellious slaves of the rogue Lieutenant of Melglos on the mountain of Garganus. Unlike the success of the rebels on Vesuvius in repelling down a supposedly precipitate slope, for this battlefield, there was only the prospect of battle or the sea for the defenders. The Legions were not veteran, but apparently well trained in the winter months, and in fierce fighting, destroyed the army of Crixus, even to the Commander himself.

  The news was soon tempered by reports by the mounted scouts that Spartacus had moved from his winter quarters in the south, appearing between Capua and the armies of Gellius and Lentulus, still recovering from their battles to the east. Frantic missives from Rome were channeled through Capua to cross the Peninsula to the encampment of the Consuls. The slave army seemed not to be in any haste, merely moving at pace toward the mountains in the north, Julius assuming that the crossing to be the reason for the march - something given several times by Melglos as his desire.

  Unfortunately, for the Romans in pursuit, the belief was that their quarry was no more of goodly military skill than the brazen Lieutenant they had destroyed in the winter. Rather than assuming a standard infantry formation for battle, the Consul Lentulus gave assumption that he could surround the foe and force their surrender. Without waiting for his co-Consul to arrive to bolster his forces, he struck from two sides.

  The location of Melglos and his slave army was well known by the scouts, roaming the countryside during the entirety of the late winter, but... What had not become apparent was the size of the army that had been gathered during that time of wait. The two Legions of Lentulus, about five thousand strong, were as droplets of water flung onto the hot baking stone of a breadmaker. Melglos now had almost a hundred thousand in his ranks, and if not all were young men of fighting age and ability, the bulk were at least partially trained and with goodly spirit. In their attempt to surround, the Romans were encircled themse
lves, collapsing under numbers that were fifteen and twenty to one.

  Worse for the cause of Rome, the destruction of Lentulus was with such suddenness that no hint galloped down the road to give warning to the oncoming Consul Gellius. His men were caught strung out in marching order on the road and again, swamped as a rogue wave catching a sleeping ship by surprise.

  The grand strategy made in Rome was in tatters, but even worse was to come. The governor of Cisalpine Gaul, the northern-most region of the Roman domain, was one Caius Cassius, a man of some need of military adventure in his character, moved south to gain both slaves and glory by engaging the rebellious army from the unexpected direction of the mountains. In what was to be a maneuver in concert with his southern fellows, he marched south until touching the upper edge of the slave army, then formed into battle line. Once again, the lack of accurate knowledge of his foe was the undoing of an army.

  The units from that once-Gaulish land were not hardened veterans of battle, but had much experience in a hard land of both barbarians and brigands. The forward units of Cassius seemed to drive a wedge into the midst of the resolving slave army, but in fact was merely striding forward between the two halves of Spartacus without realization that his two allied armies to the south were already destroyed. Again, with only ten thousand men against ten times as many, the results were inevitable. Cassius barely escaped the enclosing circle of jubilant rebels, and with a fraction of his army, eluded death by fording the freezing-cold Aidge river, without arms or armor.

  Times of war bring not only evil, but prosperity to some. The Clavius family was as engaged in their merchant of shipping as Julius - or Aulius - had ever known, even to the extent that the younger brother had to think of more than the next voyage of the Petrel. The grain brought from Egypt during the winter not only saved the city and surroundings from hunger, but caused gold to flow into their coffers at a goodly rate. No longer did agents have to scour the ports of their individual parcels of territory to fill the holds of ships arriving to land their cargo. Now, the lading was mostly military supplies and even men, needed at haste here or there. Had they twice the number of ships, their needs would still not have been met. Even two of their fast speculatoriae had been leased out to the headquarters in Rome to run messages up and down the coast of Latium, or to carry high-placed official to some imminent need.

  The smaller and fast escort vessel, ordered at the start of winter had been delivered, but had yet to make a voyage for which it had been purchased - no ships of the family were touching at ports in the eastern reaches of the Great Sea where the pirates were becoming rampant, and probably would not until the unpleasantness in the land was ended. Rather, it became a fast transport for officials or military officers to some need.

  The activity around their merchantry was such that Julius seldom made his way to the Tabularium, having to gain any latest news from another, usually Aulius but often from Patroclus, his scribal friends in the city willingly passing on any nugget of information over cups. The activity at the port of Neápolis took much of his time for a while, with the need to restore the burned inn and shipyard, but with the supplies brought from up the coast, both were back in use. The yard was the most important, as ships in activity had need of upkeep and with the frantic pace of this year, even more than usual.

  One advantage, and not taken with dislike by Julius, was that the lack of voyages meant that he was able to see his son survive the first critical months that often took newborns before they were even weaned. With the fortune of the gods, the infantulus would eventually see his seventh year and receive his name for life. It was with less enthusiasm that he attended meetings of the family Numerarii, Ratiocinatoris and Calculatoris - taking information from the scribes and giving orders for voyages, routes, supplies and usage of their busy hulls.

  Finally, he jumped at the chance of a mission that would take himself and the Petrel away from the mounds of tables and stacks of scrolls, if not for long. "...brother, I need to converse with you of an urgent matter," was the sudden summons from his brother one morning. In the household office, Aulius handed Julius a small spindle with the red wax seal of the Senate of Rome. "The missive boat of Decimus delivered this and it arrived by horse-messenger an hour ago." Now he waited until it was read by his brother.

  "Marcus Licinius Crassus? I give admit that I vaguely remember the name, but..."

  "He is the wealthiest man in Rome, mayhap all the world," replied his brother. "And a man with some military experience - he was the right-hand Commander under the dictator Sulla during the civil wars. Indeed, it is where he got the foundation for his rise to wealth." A pause, then, "And he is a goodly friend of your patron, Gaius Caesar. In fact, the tale is that only the intervention of Crassus kept the dictator from shortening your impulsive friend by a head."

  "So..." Julius looked at the scroll again, but thinking rather than reading. "We are to deliver this new Dux from Syracusae to Rome?"

  "Aye. Without harm and with haste."

  The news was gladsome to a man wishing for the sea and freedom from being imprisoned in a room of scribes and scrolls. What was not joyful, was the notice that the Lanista, Gnaeus Batiatus, had used his wealth and position to gain a berth on the voyage. "Aye," said Aulius, in the privacy of their house. "Without doubt he wishes to ingratiate himself with a man that will be the next Proconsul of Rome, if he is successful in reduction of our troubles."

  The protests of mother and wife were countered with the information that the mission would only take the short part of a month at the longest, and none of the voyage would entail an incursion into the realm of pirates. Naturally, Pontika wished to be taken along, and as they would be sailing in close and friendly waters, Julius had no objection. Although, in the quiet of the night, he said to Camelia, "Eventually, her gamboling to distant lands as if still a boy will have to end. I have much doubt of a husband that will abide a seagoing mate." There was no reply from the dark, although he knew that she was not asleep as yet. Finally, he asked, "Or mayhap your opinion is of some difference?"

  From the darkness came her quiet voice. "It is not her spirit that gives trouble to me. I myself would have thought myself in the Elysian Fields of the Greeks had I been able to have the experience of her short life." A pause, then, "Nay. It is the presence of the despicable Lanista that you will be carrying."

  "Batiatus?" he answered with some bemusement. "Do not worry. I will not carve the man as an offering to Neptune. At least not with any spectators in watch. Although, I give admittance that such has crossed my thoughts far more than once."

  There was a long silence again, then she said, "It is not yourself, Husband, that gives my worry, but 'Tika."

  Now he rose on one elbow. "What are you saying? That she will attempt to slay the man..." He stopped, examining the startling idea. Indeed, the femina knew that the outlawry of her friend Melglos was a direct consequence of the illegal acts of the putrid noble. Even Ngozi had given promise of retribution should he ever have chance. But... "Nay. There is certainly hatred within her for the Lanista, but she is barely beyond being a mere puella. And he is accompanied at all times by his pair of protectoris brutes."

  "Aye. But did not this mere puella, as you call her, swim in the black night of fire and death to succor Kaeso and men, then later toward a shore with angry men approaching us from all directions? And gain the life of Melglos by breaking a board across the pate of a disloyal guardsman in Antioch?"

  Hmmm. Indeed, Pontika was not the usual form of a daughter, unless one was speaking of the offspring of Mars and Nerio. He could well believe that the girl would firmly plant her little female dagger in heart of the Lanista, given the chance. "I will make sure that she has no opportunity during the voyage. And you should give her the understanding of the black disgrace for our family to have a paying patron slain on our vessel." He lay back, then said, "But, I have much agreement with our young Siren. I have sworn oath that the putrid scum will make payment for his acts that have brou
ght devastation to the land." And probable death to a crewman of the Petrel.

  It was as if the gods had turned back the seasons to the years before. The Petrel and crew were in full sail over a benign sea with goodly airs from the northwest. If the eye of the wind did not vary far from its position nor falter in its blow, they would be in Syracusae, on the island of Sicilia, in two days, and the voyage back to Rome only about four beyond those. The only flaw in their days was the presence of the fat Lanista, usually sitting in the waist, under the shade of the sail. It was with minor interest that the wife of the man had not come aboard, and in fact, Julius had not seen the woman in the last year. He assumed she was still in Rome, but had no interest in the matter and even less for asking to find the answer.