by Ken Farmer
Julius just nodded, turning to call to Valens, walking across the plank even as he adjusted his belt for comfort. "Have Caius fill a bag with traveling rations for a day."
"Nay." came the interjection from the messenger. "He is in camp only beyond the hills, yon."
Surprised, Julius looked at the man for the moment, then nodded. "Then lead us. Densus! We go to conference with Mel... Spartacus. Maintain the ships here in my absence."
Indeed, the walk was short, only thirty stadia or so and they entered a cabin after only an hour or so. The big Thracian turned as they entered, walking to give greetings again, but not with the ebullience of the last time. "Greetings, Capitaneus." To the other handful of men in the room, he said, "Return to your units until I call. And do not let your men stray from their posts." He waved Julius and his companion to chairs beside a crude table made of planed logs, then sat himself. "I give my gratitude for coming to converse with a man even now in pillage of your land. Such friendship is rare, indeed."
"Had it not been for a bastardus of my land, you would even now be wenching with the crew in some far harbor. I do not condemn a man for what he must do for his own being. But... why have you not long made the march to Brundisinum? The land should have long seen the backside of yourself and you're followers."
Melglos gave a wry smile. "Aye. And such was my plan, but alas, such did not fit in with the thoughts of the Dux, Crassus. His skills are considerably more than the asini that strove against us before. He has driven us back to the Medima river, even now."
Julius shook his head. "I have little knowledge of the internal lands..."
"About a hundred and fifty leagues from here."
That was about five hundred stadia. Only the walk of a few days at the most. "You are in battle now?"
"Nay. The Legions did indeed drive my men back, but not without being punished with some severity. Crassus is encamped for whatever reason these last ten days and without making foray to our lines."
Now Julius said, "Whatever your plans are to be to leave this land, I would counsel haste. I have received word of eight more Legions in march to join Crassus. No doubt Tyros, but still many men." This was from the scroll that his brother had given Densus to deliver in Rheginum.
"Aye. You have touched the problem with a needle. Thus my reason to ask your presence - besides my pleasure of seeing yourself again. I would ask you to deliver a message to Apollodoros, asking that he bring his ships here, to Rheginum, to take us away." He pointed to two small chests against the wall. "Those are payment for the added bother of our request, and to give haste to his movements." Another pointing. "That one is for your wage."
Julius shook his head. "I need no chest for such work. Indeed, I would pay as much to be able to sail away to some far port again. But where is this worthy to be found?"
"In Hydruntum. Know you of it."
"Aye. We have ported there many times. The family has a minor agency there."
"The river of Medima is a the narrowest part of this projection of land - only about eight leagues from sea to sea. We are building a line to stop any incursion by Crassus until the ships arrive."
"How many in your band now?" asked Julius.
"Mayhap fifty thousand. Many have fallen, others have just taken foot on their own, the life of a soldier not to their liking."
"That is a lot of bodies to move by ship, my friend. Even loaded as if dried fish. I hope you are not thinking that such could be done between dark and daylight."
Melglos gave another wry expression. "Aye. But the warm season is over, and the rains almost upon us. And is well known, the Roman Legions do not care for battle in such. I assume they will make winter quarters, giving comfort that they have the despicable revolters trapped and waiting for destruction. Thus, we will have the entirety of winter for our move."
Chapter 50
"It would seem that this Apollodoros is quite filled with himself, Sos." This was Densus, as they stood on the afterdeck of the Petrel, looking into the harbor of Hydruntum. "He does not even attempt to disguise his ship."
The vessel that they were seeing - and seeking - was larger than their own, but gaudy beyond even the ceremonial barge of a noble. The upper beam planks were painted red, and from the top of the tall mast, a huge streamer - also red - flapped in the wind. Julius just nodded at the obvious statements, then pointed, "Put us at the closest open wharf to that ship. None to leave the ship and maintain readiness to stand out immediately."
He could see Pontika standing on the foredeck, watching in interest at another city that she had never seen. "And make certain that our passenger does not jump the side for a foray into the port, as is her want." The girl was wearing the worn tunic of a sailor, with her hair tied back with a string. She would never pass for a man, but at least she did not stand out as a fledged woman to the casual look.
The Petrel glided to a stop, fended off the lumber with poles, then quickly tied to the bollards. Julius turned and said, "Ngozi. With me." He had little worry of being accosted on yon ship, but with his black crewman at his back, his chances of withdrawing in need were far better.
The walk to the other wharf was short, and observed by men on the ship. Apparently, they too, were not in enjoyment of the city taburnae and brothels, but in wait... Without his even reaching the beam of the ship, a voice came from the deck. "You! Be you from Spartacus?"
Looking to try to determine which man of the several handfuls had called, he replied, "Aye. And with instructions."
A man jumped from the rail onto the wharf. A young man, but with the massive structure of Melglos. And tall. An impressive figure for the Captain of a pirate vessel... fleet. He grinned, then said, "Do I have the honor of addressing the noble Clavius, Capitaneus of the merchant fleets of Capua?"
This was different voice, and one that had had some goodly education behind it. The slight accent was from the Greek lands, but the diction of Latini was without flaw. He replied, "Honor has little meaning from the planks of a ship, but aye, I am Julius of that family."
"Come to discuss our patron, Spartacus, without doubt. Were you expecting some dispute?" He pointed to the black companion beside Julius.
"Nay, but I have long learned not to walk the boards of a far port without eyes to the rear."
"Ah... A wise man, indeed." He pointed to his ship. "Shall we retire to my cabin to discuss... whatever has sent you here?"
Julius shook his head. "Nay. You will be my guest in yon taburna, where we may take a goodly cup in private. I will send my man away, if you wish."
"Nay. He may follow or leave at your wish. I have little fear of malfeasance from a man of your reputation. I am your servant." The man gestured toward the drinkery just across the port road.
The large silver Stater from Julius gave him a table in the rear, completely private and made so with the Caupo placing two servants in wait, that the closest tables might not be approached by others. Quickly, Julius gave his instructions, and the notice of the chests in the Petrel to give wage for the additional distance required for the voyages from Latium to... wherever.
And the reminder of the ten additional chests waiting for the successful completion of the mission.
Finally, the Captain of the pirates nodded. "Aye, such can be done. It will take only an extra pair of days for each voyage. Two chests are goodly wage for such minor addition to our chores. One assumes that the coin is to be paid now?"
Julius nodded. "Aye. Send your men to the ship to gather the chests. We will stand out to give word to Spartacus to gather his people."
Quickly that was done, the heavy boxes lifted from the hold by the crew of the Petrel and placed on the wharf for inspection by Apollodoros. He was satisfied, apparently. "Aye. The ransom of a King, and no doubt. My men may even stand out to establish our domain when this winter changes to the warm season."
"With yourself as regent, I assume?"
The comment of Julius was merely as a jape, rather than biting, and the Captain bellowed with laught
er. "Aye. King Apollodoros has a goodly sound. Would that my putrid Pater could hear it from his grave. His prediction of my future was far more dire when he sent me away without a bent copper for my use."
The voyage back to Rheginum was quick, and Julius gave the results to Melglos, and advice that little time should be lost in his use of the ships. Quickly, he gave farewell, and the three ships stood out and to the north. It would raise questions of some worry, should he stay in Rhegnium as the slaves and fugitives boarded ships in escape from Latium. Men in high places might wonder at the lack of messages, frantically sent, of the happening.
The speculatoria of Capitaneus Decimus had been sent back to Capua to obtain a goodly map of this part of Latium from Patroclus, and now Julius studied it with the information gained from Melglos. He found the river that marked the encampment of Crassus - indeed, more than that was apparent in study of the map. The long peninsula that was the southern half of the region known as Bruttium, was in shape as a long narrow bottle, and Crassus was the cork in the opening. Melglos had little choice but to escape by sea.
Hipponium was a real port in the vicinity of the encampment of Crassus, but Julius assumed that it would still be in the hands of the rebels, it being on the southern side of the river. The small shoreside city - village, actually - of Terina was about twenty or thirty stadia further along and would be the closest to the encampment of the Legions. He pointed his little fleet to that place.
"This is obviously the port, Sos," said Densus. All looked across the waters at the ships that were hove into the waters off the small village. Actually, port was a misnomer. The only vestige of a wharf had long since given in to the elements and was nothing but a pile of lumber on the shore. Two large merchant ships were anchored away from the land, obviously with too much draft to approach closer to the land. Neither were vessels of the family. There were a double handful of shallow drafted coasters pulled onto the sand and of course, the ubiquitous fishing smacks seen at any part of any almost any coast.
From behind him, Valens said, "What is that... vessel? It appears to be a festive river barge."
Julius could easily see the strange craft that his man was indicating - not strange as in form, but for such to be here on a coast in the open sea. Indeed, it looked much like the boats that plied between Rome and Ostia, on the Tiber - used by nobles in their travel, comfortable and with servants to give host during the trip. Colorfully painted, with awnings for protection from the sun, it was... "Nay," he said. "It is much too large for river work, and notice, there is a stub mast for a sail - again, useless for plying the Tiber. That has to be some plaything for a rich man, to putter around a harbor for his diversion."
Turning to Densus, he said, "Anchor us at the distance from shore of yon merchants. It is obvious that we would touch long before the sand was reached." The little speculatoria could just drive up onto the shore.
"Mayhap you wish to put on your uniform, Sos," said Valens.
Julius nodded, realizing that he had forgotten the need to appear as a high officer in the Legions if he was to even begin to approach the Dux. By the time he was kitted to the satisfaction of his batman, the anchor had been heaved and the skiff lowered. "I should return by the second day," he said to Densus.
His appearance on the shore brought instant attention of a Centurion, calling for a guard to escort him to the headquarters of the Legions. That was quickly reached, his name being sent into the tent, and the Dux himself appearing in the flap of the opening. "By the hanging pouchstones of Donysus I had begun to wonder if you had sailed beyond the Pillars by now." He waved to enter, then to sit at the long table. "What have you found in... Rheginum, was it?"
Julius waved vaguely at the map. "Spartacus is pinned at the far end of the land, from here to here, as you will know. He is said to be building a line on this side of the river..." He tapped on the map. "...to prevent your forward movement. He has fifty thousand in his ranks, I am told."
"He is not the only man who can build. But what of his supplies? His men strip the land as of locusts wherever they trod."
Julius looked at the map, weighing his words, then, "My agents give that this part of Bruttium is not more than self-sufficient. Certainly not with produce that can feed an extra of that number of mouths."
"What of food by ship? He has certainly looted enough wealth to purchase the entire harvest from around the Great Sea."
Julius spread his hands. "That may be, but my ship and its cohort have sailed the shoreline from Tharii, through the straits, to here and no harbor has any such at port. Indeed, the uncertainty has all shipping merchants avoiding this end of Latium altogether. We saw old fishing sculls and such." He paused, then, "But I will have my speculatoriae patrol the shoreline looking for such, and to give report."
The Dux shook his head with some intensity. "Nay. I wish your ships to stop and seize any that are seen to port." At the widened eyes of Julius, he continued. "I am told that your vessels are even armed to such that a pirate will give them a wide berth." He sat down heavily, then waved for cups to be brought. Then, with a grim smile, "Caesar gives that it is the fortune of Rome that you yourself are not a pirate. His estimation is that you and your men would own the waters under the trading routes."
Julius frowned. "I will say that my men are quite capable of interceding with any reavers who wish a share of our shipping, but we are far..."
He paused as both looked to the tent flap as the officer of the guard entered. "Noble Gnaeus Batiatus, Sos. Requesting your leave to enter."
The Dux nodded as Julius said quietly. "Batiatus is here? For what?"
"He has gained a condicio from the Senate for the right of administration of any slaves that we recapture. In return for his guaranteeing supplies for the Legion while on our mission."
"Greetings noble Crassus," boomed the fat Lanista as he entered the tent flap. "I had heard of the return of the brave Tribune." To Julius he nodded and said, "I am gladdened to find you in goodly health, young Clavius."
"Aye, noble Batiatus. But my mission was merely one of finding, not battle."
Now the Dux said, "The Tribune has come with the news we expected. The rebels are apparently digging in for the winter."
"Your pardon, Sos, but the word rebels is an honorable term, as were Brutus and Tricipitinus, when they wrested the city of Rome from the despicable Tarquinius. These are wretched slaves - murderers and looters, all."
"As you say, Gnaeus. But words will not end this... uprising nor gain your gladiators back."
Now Julius asked, "Will you attack across the river, Sos?"
"Nay. We have them pinned to place, now. There is no escape other than the sea, and that is impossible for such a multitude." He pointed at the map, moving a finger back and forth across the narrow land between the seas. "We are in camp until the new Legions arrive, and digging a ditch to keep the slaves from attempting any move to the north."
In disbelief, Julius looked at the map, giving estimates of distance and... "You intend to dig a ditch almost two hundred and fifty stadia in length?"
The Dux laughed at the incredulity in the question. "Your rejection is the same as that of the Senate, but, nay, not so long. We will use the river for most of the barrier, adding the ditch at the shallow end and from there to the southern sea."
Again, the guard Captain appeared. "The officers are here for the morning brief, Sos."
"Aye. Send them in." He turned to Julius. "For you, Tribune, again I need only information that can be gathered, and interception of any ships intending to succor the reb...slaves. You may stay for this meeting, but unless you have interest in droning lists of needs of the Ingeniarii officers, I would recommend that your return to your ship." He shook his head with a wry expression. "Would that I could join you."
With a salute, Julius turned to leave, stepping aside as a stream of officers entered, then left the tent of the Commander. His steps, however, were halted by a call from behind. "Your pardon, Julius. Might I have
a word?" This was the Lanista, Batiatus. Behind him, as usual, were his two toughs, in guard of his person.