Caesar's Spies- The Complete Campaigns

by Peter Tonkin

  ‘We are not planning to sail directly to Alexandria, no,’ answered Artemidorus, matching User’s apparent openness. ‘Nor do we propose to follow your path back southward along the Greek coast and from island to island. We will go ashore at Dyrrhachium instead and take the Via Egnatia east from Dyrrhachium to Thessaloniki or Neapolis then get a ship from there. We plan to move swiftly and hire a vessel at the first suitable port. We hope to be in Alexandria by the end of Maius.’

  User gazed at Artemidorus for a moment, then at Puella for a heartbeat more. ‘It is a good plan,’ he said, making no mention of the obvious fact that it would only work if Artemidorus and his associates were planning to take with them passports of almost magical power – and enough gold to bribe a fleet-full of cowardly captains. ‘It will ensure you get to Egypt the quickest way possible. I will come with you.’

  v

  ‘Do you think he’s telling the truth?’ asked Quintus. ‘Can we trust him?’

  As Galene came within sight of land next morning, Artemidorus and Puella briefed the others, Quintus and Publius, on User’s story and suggestion over a scant jentaculum that consisted largely of leftovers from last night’s cena.

  ‘What he has said seems to be true enough,’ Artemidorus answered. ‘And he gave convincing details about Actium for us to send back to Antony. But, as for trusting him, it’s what he didn’t say that makes me a little uncertain.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Ferrata.

  ‘Our intelligence, such as it is, suggests the waters he says he has been sailing through are effectively controlled by the navies belonging to Brutus and Cassius. Their admirals Ahenobarbus and Murcus have their ships quartered in Rhodes, but they must have patrols out. Scout ships, liburnae. Not to mention the smaller fleets commanded by Parmensis, Spinther and Tillius Cimber. Did User not see them? Never come across them? It makes me wonder.’

  ‘Whatever the truth,’ added Quintus, ‘even if the Libertore navies missed him, there are still plenty of Cilician pirates, even after Pompey Magnus’ campaigns against them. They would only let one of their own pass safely. Yes. He may be a spy, or he may be a pirate. Each one seems equally likely. And, on balance I’d guess, rather more likely than that he’s merely an innocent merchant who just wants to be our friend.’

  ‘But what does that mean for us?’ asked Publius uneasily. ‘Will you take him with you or leave him in Dyrrhachium?’

  ‘Oh there was never any doubt about that,’ answered Artemidorus. ‘Whatever he really is, whatever he’s up to, User comes with us. If he’s an enemy I want him close-by, so I can keep an eye on him. If he’s a friend, he could prove to be invaluable – on the road, in whichever port we decide to leave from, and most of all in Alexandria itself when we get there.’

  *

  The atmosphere in Dyrrhachium was very different from Brundisium. And Artemidorus could see why. Dyrrhachium was an outpost in a hostile land. Cut off from Rome and her legions unless Aeolus and Poseidon, gods of wind and wave, were in a kindly mood; and even if they were, as long as generals Ahenobarbus and Murcus with their rebel fleets did not set up a blockade.

  Everything and everyone that disembarked from the four vessels through that long day, received a carefully cautious welcome. The leaders, Artemidorus – with Quintus and Puella – Publius, Severus and Gaius Licinius were welcomed and entertained to a formal cena. Before being billeted in the houses of the city’s leading families. For one night only. Those less recognised – Messala, Lucius, the mysterious stranger Artemidorus had seen aboard Aegeon and of course the shipwrecked User – were given a much less formal welcome, along with the rest of Artemidorus’ contubernium and were recommended to the better hospitiae. The marines and legionaries were left to their own devices – and probably had the warmest welcome of all in the tabernae and lupanarae of the dockside. But they and their slaves were officially housed in the legionary accommodation on the outskirts of the town while their animals were stabled nearby.

  Unusually late, because of the routines of unloading, the formalities of welcome and the assignment to their welcoming accommodation, Artemidorus and Puella went to the baths. And as they relaxed in the steaming caldarium, they discovered they were not the only members of their group with this idea. The imposing ebony statue that was a naked User, fresh from cena and gossip at the hospitium he shared with the other commanders, stepped out of the shadows and into the water beside them.

  ‘So,’ he said to Artemidorus without any preamble. ‘You, Antony’s man, have been smuggling his proscribed enemies safely out of Italy. Most impressive. I am trying to assess whether such an action is immensely brave or incredibly foolhardy.’

  ‘Tell me when you’ve made your mind up,’ said Artemidorus. ‘I’m not too sure which one it is myself.’

  The Egyptian gave a shout of laughter. ‘I can see we shall be firm friends,’ he said. ‘As long as we do not fall out over this beautiful woman.’

  ‘Time will tell,’ said Artemidorus. ‘She will make up...’

  ‘I will make up my own mind as to that,’ said Puella.

  ‘Will you! More impressive still! If ever you wish to make a direct comparison between us...’ He lifted his hips just enough to bring his mutinium member into submarine view.

  As if she hadn’t observed it as he stepped languidly into the steaming bath, thought Artemidorus wryly.

  ‘If I do, you will be the second one to know,’ she said, apparently unimpressed. ‘But who told you about Messala and Lucius?’

  ‘They told me themselves as they prepared to leave.’

  ‘To leave?’ demanded Artemidorus, surprised.

  ‘They will have gone already. They and the friend they made aboard Aegeon. All riding eastward as though Ammit the Devourer of the Dead was after them.’

  ‘A friend?’ asked Artemidorus, remembering the glimpse he had caught of the man aboard Severus’ vessel.

  ‘A friend to them and to Marcus Junius Brutus, apparently,’ rumbled User. ‘A courier, held up for some time by contrary winds in Brundisium but riding eastwards now as fast as he can with the lady Porcia’s last letter and, so they tell me, the sad news of her death. And, of course,’ he continued, unconsciously expressing Artemidorus’ own thoughts, ‘with intelligence that the sea lanes are open and that Antony’s legionaries – if not yet his legions – are crossing into Macedonia.’

  VIII: Via

  i

  The Via Egnatia started and ended at the pharos in Dyrrhachium. That tall stone and concrete tower, whose light shone westwards in the darkness out over the harbour towards its opposite number 80-miles distant in Brundisium.

  Just as the town itself was different from Brundisium, the via was very different to the Via Appia, which Artemidorus and his contubernium had followed from Rome to the coast. Italy was calm for the moment and quietening as the proscriptions ran their course. The Appian Way travelled over vine-covered mountains, through groves of olive bushes, orange and lemon trees, beside rich farmland, past prosperous cities where the twelve tables of the law governed a largely quiescent population. And, ultimately, past legionary camps where entire armies waited peacefully for their orders.

  Macedonia was still border country and the nature of the Via Egnatia reflected that. There were tribes to the north of it in Illyria and Thrace who were always restless – sometimes bellicose. And there were the Libertores in the south and east, plotting the downfall of the Triumvirate, their friends and associates. The Thracians, and the barbarians to the east of them, had never really settled and the death of Divus Julius had made matters worse. The Scordisi were threatening to invade the rich domains the Romans held with a suddenly weakened grip. Tempted by the fruitful latifundi estates and the wealthy cities that clung to the sides of the via – like the fertile acreages, prosperous villages and bustling townships that had grown up along the banks of the Nile before the drought and the plague decimated them.

  Divus Julius had planned to conquer the Dacians who had cross
ed the Danube and were threatening to come south. Any one of these disparate groups could – and did – send raiding parties south to gather plunder, slaves and information in preparation for a proper invasion. Or, on the other hand, to scout the ground for the inevitable day when the Romans came at them in full battle-order once they had stopped slaughtering each other. Antony had recalled the legions – in spite of the Dacian threat – but he had done nothing to disturb the arrangements along the via. Knowing he, too, would need to bring his armies east one day.

  The military nature of the road was further reflected in the army terms for the facilities that the soldiers staffed in anticipation of government messengers, military couriers, patrols, legions, cohorts or armies coming past. In place of hospitiae were stationes. Not to mention proper castra defensible army camps, way points and castra oppida security posts where passers-by had to produce the proper paperwork before being allowed to proceed. No doubt, thought Artemidorus, Messala and Lucius would stick very close indeed to the messenger hurrying towards Brutus. Who would have all the passes required to hasten his progress – and theirs into the bargain. One of the details they had suspiciously failed to mention during his interview with them the day before yesterday.

  Brutus and Cassius had also done nothing so far to close the road coming east from Dyrrhachium, for they and their legions were concentrating on Asia, Syria and perhaps even Egypt. But, just like Antony – and, indeed, the Scordisi and the Dacians – they would have sent out spies to assess the situation in case they did need to come westward. Spies who would have to gauge conditions and preparations along the one and only route Antony and young Caesar would have to follow when they brought their armies to the final, inevitable, battle.

  *

  After breakfast next morning, Artemidorus assembled the contubernium on the dockside in the space between the four unladen ships and the start of the via, where the soldiers and slaves of Publius’ command, guarded by the marines from Aegeon and Galene, filled the warehouses with horses, carts, mules and bustle. The clouds above the towering pharos were darkening. The wind was threatening to swing back into the east. The captains of all four vessels were looking nervous – keen to get back to Brundisium as soon as Aeolus and Poseidon permitted. It certainly looked like a better option than being stuck in Dyrrhachium.

  As usual, Artemidorus stood flanked by Quintus and Ferrata, but Puella stood by User, who had joined them for the planning briefing as he proposed to do for the journey to Alexandria. Artemidorus looked thoughtfully at the assembled faces: towering Hercules and quick-thinking Kyros: his friend and, perhaps lover, Nonus their scribe, and Furius their carnifex executioner – though they were all adept enough at killing. All of them except for Crinas, the physician. The only ones who seemed out of place to him under the new circumstances were the Senate secretary Adonis, with his fantastic memory, and his almost identical twin sister Venus, slaves of Divus Julius’ murderer Trebonius – who had been himself been tortured to death by Dolabella in Smyrna late last year and was the first of Divus Julius’ killers to die.

  Venus and Adonis were incalculably useful in Rome. It was Adonis, after all, who had recorded, remembered and explained Cicero’s fatal joke about Octavianus – that he should be ‘congratulated, elevated, exterminated’; that throwaway line in the midst of a speech to the Senate which alienated the young Caesar and proved to be the start of the old man’s downfall. Artemidorus recognised he had made an error in bringing them here. However it was one which he could turn to his advantage. ‘Adonis, Venus,’ he said. ‘While the rest of us prepare to leave, I want you to go with User. He will describe to you, in the greatest detail, everything of note about Actium. I want you to record every scrap of information he gives you and then take that information back to General Antony as speedily as you can. I will dictate to Notus a pass that should get you along the Appian Way swiftly and safely – with an escort from Legio VII if necessary – and confirmations that you have been formally manumitted and are now free Roman citizens. After briefing General Antony, I want you to report to Consul and Triumvir Marcus Aemilius Lepidus. Adonis, he will no doubt put you back to work keeping Senate records. And Venus, he will also find a place for you in his household. But remember, you still both work for me. That is your prime responsibility. There will be all sorts of information that, with a little intelligence, you can gather, either in the Consul’s household or on the Senate floor. We will talk when I return.’

  The brother and sister looked at each-other, frankly relieved to be taken out of the adventure at this early stage and return to the safety of Rome. They went to User, who cheerfully accompanied them to the villa they had slept in the night before, where they would record all the details he could remember about Actium.

  As the three of them vanished towards the town itself, Artemidorus said, ‘Right. Now it’s time for the rest of us to get organised.’

  ii

  By mid-morning the contubernium was almost ready to depart. They were dressed for travelling through potentially hostile country and probably inclement weather. Their wagons were laden, mules in line between the traces. Ferrata and Furius, acting as quartermasters, had returned from Dyrrhachium’s markets with the last of the provisions they had purchased. The escort Publius had detailed to accompany them for the first part of the journey was mounted and ready, while the rest of the centurion’s command was still sorting themselves out – too well aware they would inevitably be travelling more slowly than Artemidorus and his people. Not least because that number of mounted soldiers would need to forage for food while the spy’s unit could carry most of their necessities with them. And in any case was a small enough group to make full use of the way-stations, towns and villages along the road.

  Artemidorus had dictated Venus’ and Adonis’ paperwork to Notus, talked to Publius, the two centurion marine commanders and the two captains, saying his goodbyes and making certain he was leaving everything in good order. Venus and Adonis had gone aboard Galene, under the wing of Gaius Licinius, ready for the return journey. Only Quintus and Puella were missing. The former because Artemidorus had detailed him to find User the kind of kit he would need to ride east with them. Puella because she thought a woman’s eye would make the process of dressing the mysterious merchant more effective. The three of them were therefore the last to appear. And, thought Artemidorus, whoever had made the final decisions had done a good job. The big Egyptian was now clad in a red legionary tunic, with a blood-red sagum cloak to match. His massive torso was covered in the overlapping hoops of armour laced down the front that Quintus had been so impressed to discover in the cellar of Suadela’s brothel. More overlapping bands sat on his shoulders, making them appear even larger. A red scarf stopped his neck from chafing. His forearms were protected by manicae metal arm guards and his shins by iron greaves. He wore a long, sharp cavalry spada on his left hip and a pugio on his right. They had even found some caligae big enough to accommodate feet that were almost as big as Hercules’. Only the white cotton headdress with its square top and wings falling to his armoured shoulders betrayed his origin as Egyptian. He carried, slung over one shoulder, a waterproof, hooded cloak of oiled wool – the only non-military part of his new wardrobe.

  ‘Transformed from a sailor to a soldier, as you see,’ he rumbled, approaching Artemidorus with a grin.

  ‘And from a legionary to a cavalryman,’ answered Artemidorus. ‘Do you ride?’ He nodded and Kyros led a tall stallion forward whose coat was as black as User’s skin.

  ‘As though I was born to it. Like a Greek Centaur.’ User crossed to the horse and stroked his nose, breathing gently into his nostrils, befriending the animal. ‘Shall I play the tutor centaur Cheiron to your Hercules – by which I mean you, not your huge friend?’ he asked mockingly.

  ‘As long as we don’t end up like the centaur Nessos and Hercules – killing each other because of a beautiful woman,’ said Artemidorus.

  User gave a laugh and vaulted into the saddle. Artemi
dorus did the same and at his signal they were off.

  *

  They rode three-abreast south out of Dyrrhachium on the road that led down towards Apollonia. This first section was the Via Egnatia, swinging eastwards after 35-miles or so, leaving a smaller road running down the last stretch to the city of Apollo itself. As soon as they were clear of the town, the road rose slightly, its 20-foot width sitting on a man-made causeway between the sand-dunes, the beach and the sea on their right and low, swampy ground on their left. Artemidorus rode in the middle with User on his right and Quintus on his left. Puella rode behind User and it seemed to Artemidorus he could feel her eagerness to come level with them once the via was wide enough. Ferrata as ever had his back and Furius followed in Quintus’ wake, while the others formed as tight a group as possible behind them. With the slaves and the supply carts behind them and Publius’ patrol bringing up the rear.

  Even though it was the end of Februarius, the ice on the swamps to the inland side of the via was beginning to melt and the driving rain brought by the easterlies over the last few days had made pools of swamp-water grow into lakes. ‘This is bad country,’ observed User. ‘In Egypt we have found pools of stagnant water like that breed miasmas which spread disease. There is one particular illness many fear. Once contracted, it never seems to go away. If you suffer from it, you have bouts of faintness, almost like the falling sickness. They come upon you without warning. Even the strongest constitution is hard-put to resist them.’