Hostage to Fortuna

by R. W. Peake

  “In order to raise the ransom that Cogidubnus demanded, Septimus was forced to put up the villa owned by my great-grandfather in Arelate. It’s,” I had to pause for a moment to consider how to describe it, “more than our family home, Bronwen. It’s a…symbol of all that my great-grandfather achieved, because he was born very poor, in Hispania, in our lowest class that we call the Head Count, but because of all that he achieved, he was elevated to our Equestrian Order. So,” I shook my head, “I couldn’t live with the shame of being the cause of losing that.”

  I could see she understood this, but then she asked curiously, “What is an Equestrian?”

  This was when I realized something; there was so much for her to learn about Rome and its ways, but I just smiled at her and said, “We’ll talk about that later, if that’s all right?”

  She nodded, then I turned to Alex.

  “Now we need to talk about how we get to Alexandria. And,” I finished glumly, “how we can afford it.”

  “Actually,” he replied, “I have some good news about that.” Rather than explain, he took a glance around, which I found odd because everyone else had gone down onto the main deck as he said, “But I think it’s better that we go down below to talk about it.”

  As soon as we entered the cabin, I understood Alex’s cause for being secretive, because he walked to the chest containing my armor and clothing, in which was a smaller chest with a lock on it that is part of a Centurion’s assigned baggage. Opening it with his key, he gestured to us to come closer, and when I did, I looked down to see two leather sacks, bulging to the point where it was easy to see they were stuffed with coins. This was certainly a welcome sight, but then he opened both of them up, and I cannot say who gasped more loudly, me or Bronwen at the sight of dully gleaming gold coins.

  “Pluto’s cock,” I gasped, looking at Alex in astonishment. Then, the fuller implication of this hit me, and while I knew it was a foolish thing, I felt a stab of irritation. “You took the risk of stealing this much from my ransom? What if they’d weighed it?”

  “I knew they wouldn’t,” Alex replied calmly.

  “How? You didn’t know that until Ivomagus told you onboard when he examined the gold!”

  “You’re right,” he agreed, but then he grinned. “But you’re assuming that was the first time he told me.” Rather than enlighten me, it only deepened the mystery, although it made me feel better to see that Bronwen appeared to be as confused. I suppose Alex took pity on us; more likely, he took pity on Bronwen, and I am certain that if it had just been the two of us, he would have loved to torment me for a bit longer. He explained, “It was during the feast. I asked him what the process was for determining that the weight was correct. That’s when he told me that they didn’t have anything that could weigh that much weight at Petuar, and the only scale large enough was in their capital.”

  “And he forgot?” I frowned, not so much because I doubted Alex. “That doesn’t sound like Ivomagus.”

  “Maybe something happened a short time later that made him forget everything else,” Alex replied dryly.

  “Oh, yes. That.” It was all I could think to say, feeling a bit sheepish. Then I thought about it for another heartbeat, prompting me to hold up a hand. “Wait. How could you know that Ivomagus would forget? I mean, even after I…did what I did?”

  “I didn’t,” Alex answered with a matter-of-fact tone, then modified his answer slightly. “Not with any certainty. But, given how I felt about it, I thought it was worth the risk, because the gods know it was difficult for me to recall anything that happened before you…did what you did.”

  I glared at him, but it was because of the manner in which he repeated my words, and while I cannot say it no longer rankled me, I also realized that it did not matter; we were at sea, with two bags of aurei that solved at least one part of the problem.

  Signaling that I was ready to move on, I asked Alex, “Did you say anything to Squillus about taking us to Alexandria?”

  “No. I didn’t see much point,” he replied, but while I agreed with that decision, it did not address the larger question.

  “What’s the best way to get to Alexandria?”

  By the manner in which he did not hesitate, I knew Alex had already considered my question, because he answered immediately, “We take the same route I did to get to Arelate, but we go to Narbo. And then,” he shrugged, and pointed down at the sacks, “we use as much of that as we need to convince a master who’s willing to make the voyage to Alexandria at this time of year.”

  “I said,” I tried not to sound angry about it, “we’re not going to Arelate first. Besides,” I argued, “Narbo is to the west of Arelate, so we’ll be going back in this direction.”

  Alex did not reply at first, choosing to look at Bronwen, who, since she was looking at me, was unaware of his scrutiny. It was when he looked back at me that I understood, but I was too mulish to acknowledge his silent question.

  Sighing at my intransigence, Alex asked, “And what about Bronwen?”

  This startled her, and she looked over at him in surprise. “What about me?”

  Oh, I was angry at him, but I also knew that he was right, which meant that I made an effort to not let my irritation show as I explained, “Bronwen, the journey we’re making is going to be very hard. But,” I held up a hand to forestall her retort, seeing her eyes narrow, “that’s not my concern because I know that you traveled with your father. It’s just that,” I paused, trying to come up with the right words, “you’ve already experienced a great deal. And, we’re going to be crossing Our Sea after the sailing season. I,” I amended, indicating Alex, happy to throw him in the cac, “or I should say we don’t want to make you endure any more hardship when you’ve already been through so much.”

  She was not fooled in the slightest, saying flatly, “You think I will slow you down, that is your concern.”

  Of course she was correct, but only partially so, which was why I assured her, “You’re right, but that’s only partly it, Bronwen. I…I’d be worried about you every moment, and I don’t want anything to happen to you. I couldn’t live with myself if I not only lose my family’s villa, but I lost you.”

  Suddenly, Alex began looking everywhere but at us, and for a moment, I thought he was seriously considering diving through the cabin window and taking his chances in the water.

  This wrought a change in Bronwen, her expression softening, and she suddenly became shy, but while she was gentle, she was no less insistent, “I feel the same way, Gnaeus.” Taking a breath, she said, “The night of the feast, when you faced Berdic in the square, I have never been so frightened in my life. And,” she admitted, “at first, I thought my concern was only that I be free from Berdic. But that was not the truth, not the real truth.” Her green eyes suddenly began shining, making them look even more like sparkling emeralds, but her voice was strong and there was no hesitation as she declared, “I will not slow you down, and I will not leave your side, Gnaeus Pullus.” Before I could say anything, her face transformed yet again, and I saw the worry there. “If that is what you wish.”

  “More than anything.”

  The words were out before I had a conscious thought to form them, and now when we speak of it, this is the moment that Bronwen and I say our love began. And Alex still wishes that he had been anywhere but in this cabin.

  Naturally, this pleased her, and we both began laughing as she came into my arms, saying as she did so, “Besides, I have always wanted to see Alexandria. I have heard so much about it.”

  When we docked at Gesoriacum, we were prepared to disembark immediately, leaving the Salacia and Squillus behind, the master gloating over the small stack of gold coins in his hand. Marcellus and his men were with us, but I had yet to decide whether to ask Marcellus to accompany us. More accurately, while I intended to approach Marcellus, I was still unsure about the other three. Hemina was my second choice, but Celer and Trio had not impressed me as much. They had been reliable to th
is point, although they had not had much to do other than sit with the ransom, but whatever faced us in Alexandria was likely to be a different matter entirely. Alex led us directly to the same stable from which he had hired his animals to get to Arelate, so that within two parts of a watch after docking we were riding out of Gesoriacum. It was not much longer after that when I learned that Alex had not given up on the idea of going to Arelate, but this time, I heard him out.

  “I put Septimus on the job of finding out as much about Aviola the Elder from his son as he could,” he argued. “And while it hasn’t been that long, we should at least find out if he’s turned up anything.”

  It was, I acknowledged to myself, a valid point, yet I still was not ready to change my mind.

  “I just don’t think I can face them, Alex,” I put it as plainly as I could. “I’m the cause of all of this, and…”

  “Oh, Juno’s cunnus,” he snapped, cutting me off. “Would you stop wallowing in your self-pity? It’s making me nauseous hearing you feel sorry for yourself!” If he had slapped me across the face, I could not have been more shocked, but he was not done. “Gnaeus, none of this is truly your fault. That storm wasn’t your fault; being blown off course so badly wasn’t your fault. The damage wasn’t your fault, and if you hadn’t kept the men under control, we would have ended up feeding the fish and monsters. And,” he finished emphatically, “the fact that you think your family blames you for being taken hostage is an insult to them!”

  It was a lot to take in, and I did not reply for a long span of time, choosing to stare between the ears of the horse I had selected. I have no idea how much distance we covered before I finally said, “I don’t think you’ve ever talked to me like that.”

  Whether it was the words or the rueful tone, it caused Alex to burst out laughing, but he replied, “I never had to before this.”

  “We can’t stay long,” I said, my only acknowledgement that he had convinced me.

  “We won’t,” he promised. Then he grinned at me and said, “Besides, don’t tell me that you don’t like the thought of showing what you brought back from Britannia.”

  “It might have crossed my mind,” I said, then our laughter prompted Bronwen, who had been riding behind us next to Marcellus, to ask us what we found so humorous.

  Another thing that Alex had suggested that we do to speed up our journey was to use Saloninus’ order, since it had worked for him both times.

  “But won’t the same men be working at the stations?” I asked, not convinced this would work, but as usual, he had thought about this, answering by holding up his coin purse, which was now full of aurei, shaking it as he grinned at me.

  “I think this might help them forget.”

  And, as he usually is, Alex was correct. Starting with the first station, the only problem we had was that some of the attendants were a bit greedier than others, but that was quickly remedied by me behaving like a Pilus Prior who did not like being questioned. Bronwen was good to her word; we never had to stop because of her, and in fact, I often got the sense that she was more impatient than I was to make progress. The weather was more of a challenge than the attendants; it began raining on the third day, and while Bronwen had a traveling cloak, I made her wear my fur-lined sagum, which made for something of a humorous sight since it was difficult to see her, swallowed up by it as she was. Fortunately, we were on the Via Agrippa, so mud was not an issue, and I took the time to get to know this person who I was just beginning to think of as my woman, which proved to be something of a challenge. It was not because she was not forthcoming; she readily answered my questions, but as I was also learning, she is extremely curious, which meant that for every question I asked, she would begin to provide an answer, then see something that intrigued her, whereupon she would stop to ask a question of her own. Frankly, while it was entertaining, it was also mildly exhausting trying to keep up with her turn of mind, and I loved every moment. We turned south at Duroctorum, and by the fifth day, the weather had cleared. It was still cool during the day, cold after dark, and while we tried to sleep under a roof every night, it was not always possible, but again, Bronwen made no complaints, and neither of us were cold during the night, which is all I will say about it.

  I suppose it was inevitable that the closer we got to Arelate, the more tension I began to feel, and despite my best intentions, I know that the others had to suffer for it. Although I had taken Alex’s words to heart, I could not deny the small voice inside my head whispering to me that my family had every right to resent me, but of all of them, I was most concerned with Miriam. During our short time together, I had come to love her, almost immediately understanding why she is the family favorite, and I was afraid that she would be most devastated because of Manius and Atia, and what losing everything would mean for them. She had assured me that her husband Servius provided for her and their children very well, yet it still worried me. I suppose that, when all was said and done, I found having a family to be quite exhausting in many ways. Whether it was because of my tension or because Bronwen was beginning to suffer from homesickness and the anxiety of meeting these strangers for whom I was risking not just my career, but possibly my life, her mood mirrored mine. Unlike me, she did not inflict that mood on the rest of us, just becoming quiet, although she still looked at everything around us, especially when we passed other travelers. However, when I tried to find out what was bothering her, she insisted that I was imagining things, but I think she knew I was not fooled.

  When the city walls first came in sight, we actually stopped, and I reached out with my hand, which she took, but then she shook me to my core by asking anxiously, “Do you think your family will like me?”

  It was such an unexpected, and frankly, silly question in my view that I burst out laughing, which did not seem to please her, forcing me to explain, “I’m more worried that they’ll love you so much they’ll want to stab me for taking you to Alexandria.”

  “Really?” I could tell she was skeptical, but she was also pleased, and I assured her by telling her, “I swear on Jupiter’s black stone.”

  Which, of course, then engendered a conversation as she frowned and replied, “I know that Jupiter is one of your gods. But what is this black stone? And,” she asked in a more demanding tone, “what does it mean when you swear by it?”

  Oh, Gnaeus, you fool, I groaned, just managing to keep it silent. Aloud, I tried to explain about Jupiter Optimus Maximus, but then Alex interrupted, and only I saw the evil grin on his face as he said, “Remember Jupiter Sosimenes, Jupiter Capitolinus, Jupiter Laterius, Jupiter Terminalis, and Jupiter Stator, not just Jupiter Optimus Maximus. And those,” he assured Bronwen, “are just off the top of my head.”

  “There are more of these Jupiter gods?” she asked curiously, and he nodded as he assured her enthusiastically, “Oh, many more!”

  I shot him a sour look, muttering, “One at a time.”

  This did serve to occupy enough of the time so that, to my surprise at least, it brought us up hard to the northern gates of Arelate. While it was not as quickly as I would have liked, we had still made the journey in just under ten days from Gesoriacum, two days before the Kalends of November. It was not that surprising that our party was stopped, but it was a momentary delay, although I do not know whether it was me snapping at them as if they were raw tirones or Alex opening the wax tablet showing them Saloninus’ orders, of which they only recognized the title of Quartus Pilus Prior of the 1st Legion. Which I will confess, did not sit well with me. I trusted Saloninus implicitly, and I still do; most importantly, he showed himself to be worthy of that trust, but through no fault of his own, it reminded me of my own precarious status. What mattered, however, was that we were allowed inside the gates. Afterward, I talked to Alex, who told me that he had experienced the same sensation when he had entered the city. I was so preoccupied that I did not even glance around, but I did take slight consolation in how some of the city dwellers, who were going on about their business, sto
pped suddenly to gape at me, yet another reminder of how much a Pullus sticks out. We pulled up at the villa, and Alex rang the bell. Before a count of twenty, the little eyehole opened, and I saw an eye widen before there was the clatter of a bar being lifted. I did not recognize the servant, and Alex quietly explained that he was the husband of the cook, because there had been nobody to replace Chickpea, and even now, a bit more than a year later, I felt the stir of anger at the freedman’s fate, one that he did not deserve. Once we were within the walls, I pulled Marcellus aside.

  “I might have more work for you if you’re interested,” I told him, but it was the manner in which he shrugged his shoulders that told me he had been expecting it.

  “I’m available. But,” he jerked his head, “what about the others? Are you talking about them as well?”

  “I haven’t decided,” I told him, not in complete honesty. More to forestall the direction of the conversation, I asked, “Where can I find you?”

  “The same place Alex did,” he replied, giving me a grin that seemed equally divided between teeth and empty space.

  I offered my arm, which he took, and I called to Alex.

  “Give each of them another aurei above what you’ve already paid. Call it,” I added with a laugh, “an advance for future work.”

  Alex complied, naturally, although I could see he did not look happy about it, and I had to remind myself that he was worried about the future, and whether our supply of gold would be sufficient.

  Birgit had clearly heard the disturbance, because she appeared from out of the villa, wiping her hands on a cloth, reminding me that, despite the fact that there was no need for her to do so, she insisted on running the Pullus household. This time, however, she did not run to Alex, but to me, enveloping me in a hug as she laughed and cried at the same time.