Insurgent of Rome

by Ken Farmer

  Pontika walked to embrace Camelia, both with broad smiles, and Julius grinned to his brother, then stooped to look at his son, almost two handspans in growth, it seemed, since his departure. Then, the greetings turned to a general uproar as all asked questions and gave their gratitude for his safe return.

  "Old friend," he exclaimed to the oldster that had guided his learning since early childhood - and later, his ship. "You must believe me that we would have traded much of the gold in our purses for yourself in our guide."

  Patroclus smiled with a bow. "If you will remember, young Master, it was your idea that I was in need of more rest before returning to the sea. But, I am certainly in desire to see the deck of the Petrel now, and a long voyage to guide."

  "Nay, Mother. Only a cup to settle the dust. We filled our bellies on the road." He hoped to stop the inevitable banquet that she would order - enough to feed the house and the crew of the Petrel without replenishment.

  As Virnius delivered the winecup himself, the Steward said, "I hope my son was of at least minimal value to your labors, Sos."

  Julius took a huge swallow, managing to clear some of the grit of the road from his mouth, then said loudly and with a smile. "Indeed he was. And I can tell you that our young Valens is now a famous soldier of the Legions of Crassus, promoted to Immunis Perpetuus by the Dux himself, and awarded the Torquis Aurea for his heroic actions on the Flamerian Via, the battle that ended the revolt of the slaves."

  That stunning news gained quiet from all, but open mouths and widened eyes from both Mother and Father of the young man. Then Camelia stepped forward and called to a maid, "Annia. A cup for our young hero, now giving honor to the house of Clavius."

  Valens himself was standing, frozen in place at the utterly unexpected tributes suddenly coming from all in the atrium, noble and common alike. He managed a smile and a few stuttered words, but little else. Then Camelia walked to embrace him as family. "But mostly for my gratitude in keeping my footloose husband safe to return to his son." That almost undid the young man completely. His tongue seemed to recede from use.

  Julius needed to tell his brother about the lading in the Petrel - ballast that would purchase a goodly part of Latium itself, but there was no chance of removing himself from the celebration for a while. He gave the tale of the march to the eastern regions of the land, and the battles that happened - culled to fit the ears of guests, of course - then their journey home interrupted by the storm and the long voyage after. Nothing was said about Batiatus, of course, except that his gaudy boat had been seen in Rheginum, "...and no doubt for his despicable search for men that he can turn into gladiators."

  Finally, it was his turn to ask questions about the long time that they had been almost lost at sea. "Crassus should have long returned, unless he intends to chase loose rebels with his battered Legions. What news of Pompey and Lucullus? All we knew when we left Rheginum, was that they had arrived..."

  He stopped, seeing that his words had given jerk to some reaction that he did not quite fathom. "Do not tell me that the remaining rebel bands have given defeat even to those veterans..."

  "Nay, Brother," said Aulius. "In fact, both Generalis are well along in cleansing the land. It is not so much of a tale of battles, but of capture and... extermination." The man looked around the room, measuring his words to give the news, but not with such vision as to give a pall over this celebrations. Finally, he said, "Crassus has declared a triumph for his victory, and in his celebration he has had many of the captured men crucified along the Appian way, from Capua to Rome."

  Julius sat for the moment, wondering the reason for such cruelty. "Is he not wasting the wealth of the men he was sent to protect? Despicable though it is, a slave is a considerable property of value. And why on the Via, rather than at the putrid pits? Such sights do not allow the meal of a traveler to settle well in the belly."

  "You fail to understand, Brother. The entire road between Rome and Capua is... decorated with crossbeams. To the number of six thousands."

  Now the jaw of Julius dropped and without doubt. He could see that Valens was also taken in stunment. "Six..." Beginning again, he tried to find words for the unbelievable statement. "That is ridic..." Failing, he stopped again in furious thought, then rose, saying to all. "My gratitude for the kind reception of myself in return - and that of my young crewman - but the months have been long and wearying. I would retire with my good wife and son and attempt to give defense to my long absence."

  With all raising cups and giving their felicitations, he and Camelia turned toward the stairs leading to the sleeping rooms above, a maid bringing the sleeping infantulus behind. As he passed his brother, he gave a sharp look, receiving a tiny nod in return.

  Chapter 59

  The day was clear, the wind from a good quarter, and finally warmer, and would become even more so as they moved south day by day. The Petrel had a strange man on the rudder, as seen by any ship that passed in closeness. Indeed, it might almost seem as the nimble vessel, leading a group of three others, might have a female as steersman. Of course, that was only a result of shadow and distance - no Master of a sea-going merchant would allow such.

  Beside Julius was the new First Mate, Maccalus - a man who had both shone goodly skill and resourcefulness in past actions. For himself, the cleanliness of the open waters was a balm for the last months, and such hopefully forgotten in the daily routine of the ship.

  Their voyage would take them over familiar waters, to the east and even into the port of Antioch, now with a family agent with expectations of living from year to year, unlike his unfortunate predecessors. The Petrel was leading a convoy of three, in guard from any pirates that might like to test their fortune.

  The concept of such multiple ships in voyage had been well tested in the winter by Kaeso and his over-armed ship, the Albatross. The grain trade of the family had waxed with the destruction of the fields by the uprising, and ships were dispatched as quickly as they could be built and purchased. On one memorable voyage to Alexandria, with four in his charge, had returned with five, the reavers that attempted to board one of the merchants no longer in need of their vessel, but rather requiring fee for the ferryman.

  Now the Petrel was guiding three for the same purpose, but with not with the hope of avoiding reavers, but that they would spot a certain vessel - one with red paintwork and flying a large red banner that gave notice of the impudence and bluster of one particular pirate leader. Julius had given oath to sacrifice the heart of the man that had betrayed his big Thracian crewman, even after accepting the ransom of a king in return.

  After their return from the long and wet voyage, with the ending of the war, a stream of guarded caravans was sent from Capua to Neopolis to rid the Petrel of its useful, but impractical ballast. As to the disposal of the looted treasure, that was the problem of his brother and the magistrates of the land. He wanted no more to do with it.

  As his ship was emptied and then hove onto the sand for some needed service, he spent the days at home with his son, giving gentle argument with Camelia about his need of learning the sea at an early age. Of course, the Mother was less than enthralled with the idea of a son leaving for a voyage when his milk was still served from her lap and his forays in the house limited to a few hesitant steps. With good grace, Julius relented to the laughter of both.

  Pontika had long talks with her wardress, and received no rebuke for her idea to return to Antioch. Camelia made a goodly point by saying, "You are a wealthy woman, and our family has again a secure agency in that port. There is no reason that you could not take a berth on one of the merchants from time to time, to give visit to old friends."

  Patroclus gave her much advice on wealth, giving that she would be wise to leave the bulk of her coin with the family accountants, then issuing a tablet to the agent in Antioch when more funds were needed. "...and as Master Julius has said, the survival of the Antiochus dynasty is unlikely, and during any such unpleasantness, the gold in one's vault can becom
e very insecure." Now he grinned. "And such as you, now with the body of a woman, can hardly return to earning coin by scraping the hulls of ships."

  Now they were on the voyage - to home for the femina but just another merchant voyage to her shipmates. She had asked to be allowed to serve watches as steersman... steerswoman, for the trip. "When else will I ever have the chance to do what I enjoy so greatly." The entirety of the crew had grinned, and whenever the femina walked to the afterdeck, was allowed to take the steering haft if wanted.

  The crew had two new youngsters, in test for use as crewmen in permanency, being shown the workings of the ship by Valens, himself feeling as an old sailor with much saltwater under his feet. Daily, Judoc would put the straw marks at the bow, giving warning to his mates that their converse might be more comfortable in a hold, or at least on the afterdeck, then watching the pair launch their ragged shafts the length of the ship. If more went overboard than in the straw, such was no matter. The Petrel carried a wagon load of the crude arrows just for such practice.

  Following the bow-work, Ngozi would gather the pair in the waist, to demonstrate the use of iron and shield. Of course, the gladii were cane sticks and the shields a straw basket, but the material sufficed.

  As Julius watched the black crewman demonstrate and thrust and parry, he realized that Ngozi would leave a massive hole in the roster of the Petrel when he departed in Antioch. Not only was he dependable sailor, but a man quite desirable to have at one's back in a tight place. And a goodly friend.

  He had barely managed his surprise when Pontika asked to speak to him in private, her attitude such as expecting wrath or disappointment from her friend. "...I have offered Ngozi the place of Steward for my household. At least until I have gained a mate that can give protection to my being. I do not wish to give strain to our friendship by... pilfering one of your men..."

  Julius had just stared for a moment, in some stunment at the statement, then said with a smile. "Our black friend is his own man, able to determine who he wishes to serve without my approval. A young femina... a Korí, could not find a protector of greater worth." It was a strange friendship - an orphanus living by hull-scraping in a port and a man from a southern land so far away that it had no known name. And once, also with a big Thracian capable of standing in battle with any man, but owing his life to the little female. "And, it is not as if we will never see each other again. I hope that myself will be welcome in your household, be it a grass hut or a marble tower."

  She gave a broad smile, obviously relieved that her news had not given fracture to their friendship. "You... and all in the crew will be honored guests. And, I will take it much amiss to find that the Petrel has stood into the port of Antioch without making call."

  Now he strode the deck, more in satisfaction of having returned to his vocation, than any need to inspect the ship. He looked back at the stern and the unusual sight of a female at helm, her thin tunic hiding nothing of her form. She had been a part of the ship for years - a member of the crew as valuable as any man - and he would not gladly see that end, but knew that such had to be. His steps brought him to the forepeak, and he looked across the endless waters ahead, wondering at the coming of the next years, and what ventures would fall to the Petrel.

  Goodsome or bad, they would be what they would be. But with the sea, he knew with certainty, that many challenges would appear in the years before his watch-standing post would finally become a chair on the veranda of the family household.

  Addendum

  The tale of Spartacus has been told many times, both in books and Hollywood. In this novel the saga is necessarily given from a distance. Any attempt to detail the entirety of the third Servile War would be a huge book in itself, thus I have attempted to keep the setting within the known facts of that long campaign, with enough detail to give the story, but without it becoming a long history lesson.

  The Generals in the book were real people, along with the Kings, Queens, Senators, Consuls and Praetors that are mentioned. Some have barely a paragraph in the history books and little is known of them, but they did exist.

  The tale of Gaius Julius Caesar, in the days before his ascent to a popular General (and darling of Hollywood, Shakespeare and the stage) is true. At least, we assume that it is. History tends to be rewritten and embellished to a degree dependent on the distance in time from the reader.

  Gnaeus Cornelius Lentulus Batiatus was the real Lanista (owner) of the largest gladatorium in the land. As to whether it was the one from which Spartacus escaped, is somewhat less certain - as is whether he was ever actually in a school for gladiators. Indeed, there are other tales that give his descent into slavery as reason of being a deserting soldier, a brigand, or a pirate. Or just a random soldier-of-fortune from nowhere.

  All cities mentioned in this story are real, or were at one time. A few are nothing but empty land now, but most are long submerged under modern metropolises.

  The lesser characters, nobles, Stewards, batmen, Captains, guards, merchants and, of course, the family of Clavius, are entirely imaginary.