by Ken Farmer
Syracusae was a well known port to the Petrel, the family having an agency in the city long before the birth of Julius and his brother. A ship of the family was a familiar sight by the harbor masters, sitting at wharf loading wine, olives and the oil of that fruit, onions and grown vegetables of all kinds. Even grain was beginning to become a major crop on the island, although most that was harvested thus far was sent to the armies of Rome in Hispania.
His greeting of the new passenger and entourage was interrupted at the boarding plank by Batiatus, coming to give ingratiating welcome as if he were the Master of the ship. Behind him were his two protectors, well garbed as would be servants of such a wealthy noble, but the resemblance to ordinary servants ended with their clothes. Both were large, not young but much less than middle age, and both with countenances that might cause young children to run screaming for their watch-maid. The swords with well-worn hilts gave their experience, as did the scars that decorated limbs and, in the case of one, a face.
Julius stood at the rail waiting for the small group to board, looking over the newly-come noble on the wharf with interest. That Crassus had seen about forty seasons, and mayhap a few more, he knew, but little else other than that was told to him by his brother. He was lean, dressed in a tunic of ordinary style, although obviously made of exquisite materials. Of course, only a fool would wear a toga in this warm climate, a designation fitting the fat Lanista well. His colored robes were both thick and probably valued at more than the annual wage paid to any of the crewmen on the Petrel.
The potential Dux had only a trio of men as companion, one his obvious body-servant and another apparently a scribe. The third was younger and well-garbed - mayhap a son?
The expression of the noble in the face of the effusive words of the Lanista was merely that of a man listening politely to another, patiently waiting for the speaker to run out of either words or breath, then nodded and walked up the boarding plank. At the deck, he gave a sight bow to Julius, then said, "Greetings, Capitaneus. I was not expecting your conveyance so soon. The winds were either good or your vessel is nimble, indeed."
Julius made the bow in return, saying with a smile, "Both are true, noble Crassus. There are few that can match this ship in either pace or pointing. Welcome to the Petrel. Your quarters are not that of a royal palace, but they are dry and comfortable below." Turning, he said to Densus. "Show our passengers to the mid-cabin and have their baggage taken below." Back to the noble, he said, "Unless your needs are otherwise, my orders are to deliver you to Rome with all haste."
"Aye, Capitaneus," said the man with a grin. "Then do not let me interfere with your setting sail."
Their time at dock had been the minute part of an hour, with the ship standing out even before noticement by the tax scribe, and quickly the Petrel was heeled to the wind on a northerly course. Of course, on a warm and sparkling day, the passengers would not sit in an airless hold, the nobles quickly finding the chairs arranged around the mast in the waist.
From his position on the afterdeck, Julius stood in watch next to Pontika, happily enjoying her watch at the rudder haft, as Batiatus continued in his pontifications with the noble Crassus - the latter apparently giving replies of polite response. The servants of the men were sitting on the beyond, using the double steps to the foredeck as seats. Densus and Flavius were roving the beam of the ship in inspection, pointing here and there and no doubt making lists for work on the next visit to the shipyard. Judoc and Maccalus were sitting in the bow, their feet dangling over the hillside. Patroclus had not come on the voyage, the navigation being as easy as finding the way across one's own courtyard.
Julius looked at his ship with some pleasure. This voyage was as if the troubles in the land had never come, and his wish was that soon his worries would be only for weather and the occasional reaver. As he gazed forward and over the sea, the ship's boy, Caius, although of enough years to be fairly beyond that designation, came up from below with cooled wine and ornate cups for the nobles, and a jug and wooden bowls for the servants. Ducking into the hold again, he quickly reappeared with a cup for Julius. As the Captain nodded, the young cook asked, "Do you wish the sand dish lit for the evening meal?"
"Nay. Cold meats will do for tonight. With this wind on the rise, there is no need to take risks of fire." He lowered his voice, saying, "And one of yon passengers would not suffer by missing a meal or two."
The cook grinned, turning to climb down the real scuttle, following Flavius as the first mate came to the stern. Densus came back to stand beside Julius and the girl, saying in a hushed voice, "One hopes our noble passenger does not cast himself into the deeps from complete ennui after listening to that blathering fool and his previsions of the future."
Julius suppressed a grin. "Mayhap our fat Lanista is giving tutor to the Dux as to the proper method of handling slaves." He tilted his head toward the waist, "Indeed, it appears that jug is already filled." Both watched as Crassus rose, giving the same minimum bow to his verbose companion, then turned to walk aft.
Stepping up to the afterdeck, the noble said, "My pardon, Capitaneus. Might I join you for the while, if your ship-duties are not in priority."
Densus immediately moved away, as Julius said with a broad smile, "Your presence is welcome, noble Crassus. On a straight course and a clear day, the only need of the Master of a ship is to stand and look majestic for the passengers and crew." He paused, then added, "Do I give your nomen as 'noble Dux,' now?"
The smile was returned and with the reply, "Nay, not as yet. My baton of authority is still in the Senate-House, and mayhap those in choosing will come to their senses before I arrive." He turned to look at the female steering the ship, then said, "I had heard from our mutual friend Gaius, of your unconventional method of command, but I will give admit that this is the first helms...woman I have ever seen."
Pontika just grinned broadly as Julius replied, "This journey would have to stretch beyond the Pillars of Hercules and back to have time to give the story of our little crew-femina. But, nay, she is not now in the roster of the Petrel, but a ward of my wife, insisting on coming to enjoy a short voyage instead of spending her time in learning the deportments of a noble woman. As she should be," he added, with a mock frown in her direction.
More seriously, the noble said, "Gaius has told me his tale of the aborted voyage to Rhodes, and the efforts of yourself in obtaining his freedom. It was most impressive." Julius just gave an expression of blandness as the man continued, "He also gives that your advice is worth the blathering of a dozen learned advisors. And on that note, might I speak to you in private?"
Julius called across the deck, "Densus! Have two chairs put on the foredeck. Take the watch." Pontika was a competent sailor - and would have been better than most on many ships he had seen, had her strength been equal to that of a grown man, but he had not survived to this day by trusting the Petrel to the youngest crewman on board.
As Densus took his place beside the girl, Caius appeared from below again with two light wicker chairs, taking them to the raised forepeak. Julius guided the noble forward, then said to the cook, "A pair of cups." Both Judoc and Maccalus immediately knew to vacate the forepeak, walking back to find their rest elsewhere.
The two men sat, waiting until the crewman returned with the wine, then Crassus said, "I would ask you of your opinion of the troubles in the land. I know that you have seen some of the... activity at close quarters."
Julius sat in thought for a moment. This was leading into uncertain seas, and while he wished to give any assistance in ending the rebellion and destruction in the land, he would have to be exceedingly careful not to reveal certain... incredible facts in the genesis of the uprising. Finally, he replied, "Aye, whatever I can give to assist, but I give warning that you are asking a man born to the sea of matters pertaining to land."
"Aye. But common sense has no specific domain. I understand that the man in lead of the rebellion - a Spartecos - is it not - is one of some military abi
lity."
Julius nodded, giving correction to the name. "Spartacus. And, aye, he has shown much ability in both battle and defense, but I have to say that he has had great assistance by the men in lead of the Roman soldiers."
"How so?"
Rather than answer directly, Julius waved a hand vaguely around the ship. "The crew of the Petrel has never lost an engagement with pirates, and for a goodly reason. When a ship of reavers is coming close aboard, all give assumption that the brigands on yon vessel are as the spawn of Hades himself, skilled to the utmost and fortified with success in their raiding. Thus all in my crew approach the fight with the idea that any lessened effort on their part will have them giving obeisance to Neptune before the sun sets."
"And the Praetors and Consuls have not given their opponent any measure of competence." It was a statement, not a question from the noble.
"Aye. They approach their skirmishes with disparagement of mere slaves and barbarians, giving boast to all in hearing of the glorious victory ahead, and apparently without even attempt of scouting and survey of what they are about to attempt." Julius held up a hand to halt the reply as he continued, "But, after giving scrutiny to the aftermaths of the battles, then I can say that this Spartacus indeed has inborn skills in leading men, if not actual experience."
"And he has much success in enhancing his numbers, I have heard."
Julius nodded. "By inference, I would estimate that he has at least seventy thousand under arms. There were more, before one of his officers broke off to make his own efforts at reaving, gaining entrapment against the sea and being destroyed in total." He saw Caius appear, looking over his charges to see if any were in need of refills. Raising his cup, he nodded for the cook to come and fill both cups. Then he continued, "Not all of the men will be fierce in arms, but lack of skill for your men can be alleviated somewhat if your numbers are ten to your opponent's one."
The talk went on for two hours, until the sun began its descent into the western sea, and Caius made the signal for the evening meal. As they rose, Crassus said, "I would have you on my staff, if you will. Or at least as an advisor at strategy." He held up his hand. "Nay, do not give me your answer now. We have several days to discuss such matters. But, I ask that you think on it during the voyage." He hesitated, then said with a smile, "If this unpleasantness can be brought to an end, then an honest man with a ship may return to his enjoyment of duty without worry of what might transpire in his absence."
Chapter 46
On the last night before his brother was to leave for Rome, Aulius had a fête called in honor of the occasion, with every noble in the city of in attendance to celebrate a son of Capua being elevated to Tribunus Laticlavius, aide and advisor to the Dux and Consul, Marcus Licinius Crassus. In the two months since the Petrel had delivered the summoned noble to Rome, the noble had given his needs and requirements to the Senate, including the rejection of Commanding officers nominated to their posts for reasons of their family's standing, or the coin in the household vaults. With the fear in Rome growing with every victory of the rebel slaves, it was less of an assignment by the rulers than a bargaining session where Crassus held the supreme position.
After the battles that had crushed one Legion after another in the march of Spartacus to the Alpinus mountains, Julius had expected the vast band of rebels and escaped slaves to disappear into the wilds of the northlands, leaving Latium to rebuild the looted and despoiled lands over which that chaotic army had marched. But... For reasons unknown, Spartacus had paused before the passes, encamping for a month, then turning his forces to march back to the south, again pillaging and looting for food, horses, and weapons as they moved.
Julius and his brother had long discussion over the reason, and without any slightest understanding. Their suppositions were that Melglos was dead, and some Lieutenant had taken command, or that the passes were blocked by something - mayhap late snow or even some other army from the north that was no in wish of a band of rebels to cross their land. Or... In fact, without the slightest fact on which to make their guesses, their speculations were just that - mere guesswork.
"Melglos cannot be thinking of making conquer of Latium. He has to know that if the Legions in Hispania and the kingdom of Pontos are returned, all the slave armies in the entirety of the world would be chaff under their sandals." Julius had just shaken his head without comment. He had no slightest idea of the reason for the pause and return. Mayhap if the Thracian gave approach to Capua again, a meeting could be arranged once more.
But before such could even begin to happen, an ornate scroll was delivered to the Clavius household with the purple wax seal of the Roman Senate. To the surprise of all, it was the official appointment of Julius as a military Tribune under the newly appointed Dux of all the Legions in Latium. That no such forces existed now, other than ragged units that would have been tested to guard the entrance to a brothel, was not noted by the celebrations in the family.
In actual fact, Julius was already a Tribune, a title gained by most young male nobles in their year of obligatory training with the Legions. In fact, such an appellation was more in the realm of the ceremonial than the factual. Indeed, by Senate-law he could command a Maniple of Legionaries, although in reality, the army of Rome had not gained its successes by entrusting valuable soldiers to a Tyro officer, no matter the height of his nobility. But this preferment from Rome was real.
"My husband, the Tribune," was the softly humorous comment of his wife. "Is there no position to which he cannot gain attainment?"
Aulius grinned at the assembled family, replying, "Aye. Soon we will be bending knee to the new and illustrious Senator Julius Clavius."
Sextilia, the mother of both brothers, and Grand Domina to the household, was in more worry than celebration. "I dislike having a son who stands in the line of far-off battle. Far too many soldiers tend to leave their bones in the fields."
Camelia put a gentle hand on the arm of the old woman. "Nay, Mother. This is a position of far less peril than his usual cavorting among reavers on the sea. A Tribune on the staff of the Dux will be as far from the lines of battle as ourselves."
The atrium that night was filled with well-wishers, and not a few men of self-assumed military skills giving ridiculous advice as to the actions needed by the Legions. Even the women were in goodly moods, giving hope that this uncertainty in the land would soon be at an end. "...and you are giving accompany with Julius to Rome?"
"Aye," said Camelia to a childhood friend. "Pontika and I will use this opportunity to visit friends and make goodly tour of the city. Julius gives that the training of the new Legions will take the rest of the warm season, thus he will be there also - at least until the army marches."
On the early morning, the wagons were ready, with both women and Patroclus waiting for the new Tribune. Eventually, he appeared, in escort with his new batman, Valens, the youngest son of their Steward, Virnius, and as all young men, anxious to experience the glory and excitement of war. Julius felt as if he were on the acting boards of the Forum, with a part in a particularly ludicrous farce. His garb was a leather torso armor over a thick tunic, with petal skirt and high laced sandals. All were shined to a gleaming finish, but were pale indeed to the crimson and gold trimmed paludamentum - the military cloak of all soldiers, attached at the shoulders and hanging to the ankles behind. Of course, at belt was his faithful gladius and pugio, and under an arm the gleaming helmet with the white crest of a high officer. His garb was little different than the common soldier, except for being of a quality far beyond even that of a veteran Centurion.
They reached the city of Neápolis by mid-afternoon, their destination being the newly rebuilt inn of the family, where the women were dropped to make their rest and ablutions from the trip. Immediately walking the short distance to the wharves, he discovered that his display of new authority was not yet over. At the dock of the Petrel was not only the crew, but Captains Kaeso and Fundanus, their ships in port for the moment and wharfed o
nly strides from the Petrel. With a broad grin, Kaeso gave a salute, then said, "Welcome, Tribune. We were hoping that you would appear before our departures."
"Would that I were standing out with you," replied Julius with a jesting frown. "I feel as a baker of bread and cakes to be suddenly assigned as drover to a train of asses." He pointed to his companion, then said, "This is my Cacula, Valens, and giving thought of becoming the next Cincinnatus. The youngest of our Steward," he added.
"Welcome, young Valens," said Fundanus. "You could not have found a superior mentor for your climb to position."