by Peake, R. W.
Something about this did not sound right; I found it very unusual that a master would let one of his slaves have enough leisure time to hang about a market stall to talk to other slaves. Immediately after that thought hit me, I was forced to admit that the number of ways that slaves can wriggle out of work to steal some moments where they can act as if they are not slaves are too numerous to count, so I supposed it was not as unusual as it sounded.
“Do you know which merchant it was? Or the girl’s name?”
“I-i-iras,” Agis spoke up, saying the name with some difficulty, but the name was clearly recognizable enough that Scribonius and I exchanged a look.
That was an Egyptian name, which could mean nothing; somehow, I think we both sensed that it was not a coincidence. Diocles thought about it for a moment before coming up with the name of the merchant, Deukalos as I recall, and where his stall was located. I patted him on the shoulder, then went to sit with Scribonius and Balbus.
“It looks like we have a merchant to visit,” Scribonius said grimly.
Turning to Balbus I told him, “This is the time.”
He gave me a quizzical glance, not taking my meaning.
I had to fight back a grin as I told him what I meant. “This is the time when you get to make someone’s ball sac into a purse.”
The thought seemed to cheer him greatly while we made plans to go visit the merchant Deukalos.
After talking it over, we decided it was best that we not descend on Deukalos at his stall, since there would be too many witnesses and more importantly would likely tip anyone watching for Cleopatra that we were onto her. The first job was to follow the merchant to his home, go in at night, then snatch him, taking him someplace where we could question him. This had to be done without any chance of word leaking back to Antonius, meaning that the group involved was very, very small. We chose Gaius to be the man to tail Deukalos, since he was still sufficiently fresh-faced and unassuming, enabling him to wander about the market area in tunic and Legionary’s belt, appearing to just be a man on off duty time. Immediately upon locating the merchant’s home, he would come back, where we would be waiting for darkness to fall, for the team of men that were to snatch Deukalos. We would then be guided by Gaius to the house, whereupon we would slip in and take him. I split the men into two teams, one to get Deukalos, the other to search the slave quarters for the woman Iras, despite none of us expecting to find her, since after discussing it, we were sure that she was no more a slave than any of us were. Still, on the slight chance that she was, we would take her as well, if we found her.
I sent Balbus in search of an appropriate spot for us to conduct our questioning, and he returned shortly before dusk with the location of an abandoned building outside the city walls that had apparently been a farm and was relatively isolated. Shortly after Balbus’ return, Gaius arrived with his part of the mission complete, describing the house, which sounded as if it would pose no problems. As Centurions, we had the freedom to come and go out of the camp at any time of the day or night without requiring any pass from a superior officer, but the rankers in our party, consisting of Vellusius, Herennius and, over my initial objections, Gaius, would require a written pass. I occupied myself with writing these out while we waited for it to be time to set out. Ideally, we would have left during the third watch, since we would not be striking the house until we were sure the occupants were asleep for the night. However, the sight of men leaving the camp so late, even with signed passes or being of Centurion rank, would arouse suspicion.
Therefore, we left in two parties, starting with Gaius and his companions talking excitedly about the night on the town they were about to enjoy, joking with the guards on duty, who looked on enviously at their counterparts as they swaggered off. Scribonius, Balbus, and I were following not far behind, while I was carrying a sack in which were our swords, rope, and material for gags. Along with these were some implements that Balbus had in his possession that I had decided I did not want to know much about. All the weapons were wrapped in the sacks we would use for our kidnapped subjects so that the blades would not bump together and make that distinctive clinking sound that any military man would recognize. Naturally, the bag was heavy, which was why I was carrying it. Following the men, we all went to the apartment, where Miriam was still awake, her eyes reddened and puffy. Kaeso did a good job cleaning and there was no sign of Eumenis’ demise left, but her gaze seemed as if it were pinned to that spot as she sat at the table. She did not ask any questions, just watching as we took pieces of charcoal from the edge of the hearth with which to blacken our faces and exposed skin. I was sure she knew what we were about to do, but if she had any objections, she did not raise them then, or later. I think a part of her thirsted for vengeance, the need overcoming her fear and concern for me or the rest of the men.
We sat sipping watered wine while we waited, one of us popping our head out to judge the passing of time by the moon, which fortunately was only a quarter full that night. Taking Miriam into the bedchamber to bid her good night, she clung tightly to me, forcing me to pull gently away.
“Try to get some sleep,” I told her.
She sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at me, but shook her head. “I will not be able to sleep until you come home.”
“I might be gone all night,” I warned her.
“Then I will be up waiting for you.”
That did not make me feel better, but I also knew there was no point in arguing. Instead, I kissed her, then left the room. The men were ready and waiting; I took a moment to go over our plan one more time before we left the apartment, heading for Deukalos’ house.
Ephesus is a port city, the largest in the area as it is the provincial capital. Because of its location near the Hellespont and straits leading into the Euxine Sea, it is a city where people are up and about at all watches. As usual, this is a blade that cuts both ways. It allowed us to move freely without arousing too much suspicion, since we were not the only people out on the streets, yet it meant the chances of being seen carrying one, and possibly two bodies was that much greater. Gaius led the way, and as we got closer to the merchant’s house, the streets became almost deserted, there being no wineshops or whorehouses in this area, the usual nighttime attractions that brought people out. He stopped across from a well-built house, surrounded by a low wall that I could see over, although Scribonius was the only other man who could. Taking a good look about, I saw no movement in the yard, which was a substantial size. There was a low outbuilding with shuttered windows that I assumed were the slave quarters, with another directly across that, judging by the smell, was a stable. A wagon was hard against the stable, while barrels of various sizes lined the rest of the wall of the stable. All in all, it was a tidy yard, without any objects over which we might trip, though in the dim light it was impossible to say that with any certainty.
We took a moment to cover ourselves with the charcoal, then I quietly opened the sack to distribute the weapons. Inevitably, there was sound, which on a dark and quiet night sounded loud enough to wake the dead, despite knowing from experience that this was mostly in our minds. Scribonius was leading the team that would search the slave quarters for the woman named Iras, while I would lead Balbus and Gaius to find Deukalos. It was the one demand I made, that Gaius would be with me since this was his first such type of operation, working in the dark and outside the rules of the army, since what we were doing was highly illegal. I had not made any inquiry into whether Deukalos was a Roman citizen, partially because I did not want possibly to alert the Praetor of the province, where those records are kept. The other, and probably the more powerful reason was because I knew that if he were a citizen, this would make what we were doing an even higher crime and I did not want to knowingly endanger the men involved any more than I had to. Thin porridge for an excuse, I know, but it was all I had. One at a time, starting with me, we vaulted over the wall, each man landing with a soft thud, pausing for a moment to listen. The air was still,
the only sound that of the harsh breathing around me. After waiting a moment, I gave the signal to begin, both teams moving quietly towards their target.
Fortunately, the house was a Roman style villa. In fact, it was almost identical to the one belonging to Uncle Tiberius in Damascus, so I was fairly certain I knew where to go. There were no lamps lit, as of course some people do so that if they have to go to the privy at night, they do not trip and bash their head, and I had to bite my lip to keep from cursing. I was hoping that the occupants would be people like that, but evidently their fear of fire was greater than the fear of the dark, making me stop for a moment while closing my eyes, both to let my eyes adjust to the deeper gloom of the villa and to let my ears do the work. I heard a shuffling sound behind me, then I was bumped from behind. Putting my hand out, grabbing quickly to stop whoever it was that was advancing blindly, I gripped an arm, telling from the musculature that it was Gaius. Knowing what was coming, I moved my hand up to clamp it over his mouth before he could utter the whispered apology. I felt his mouth open under my hand, which I squeezed shut, reminding myself to talk to Gaius about this moment, then opened my eyes wide to peer into the darkness. I could just make out vague shapes that I assumed were couches and chairs arranged around the outer edge of the atrium, the opening in the center above the only real source of light. Taking a deep breath, I stepped from the atrium, carefully moving my foot ahead of me, wishing that I had remembered to wrap my boots in rags so the hobnails would not make any noise. Moving slowly, I felt Gaius’ hand grabbing onto the back of my belt while I made my way out of the atrium, moving down the short hallway that I hoped led into the sleeping chamber of the merchant. At the end of the hallway, I reached out, expecting a door, but my hand only waved open air. Confused, I took another step forward, squinting in the gloom to try and understand where I was. I could barely make out the arrangement of couches and low tables, then I realized we were in the triclinium, and I sucked in my breath. I had been wrong; while the house was laid out in the same manner as Uncle Tiberius’ villa, it was reversed, so that the bedroom was on the other side. Turning around slowly, I exhaled before leaning forward to whisper to Gaius that we needed to reverse our course. This was a bad business, since the likelihood of one of us tripping or bumping into one another and knocking us all off balance was extremely high.
Somehow, we managed to negotiate the change of direction and I squeezed past Gaius and Balbus, their breath rank with the high nerves of the moment. Moving back out into the atrium, I headed in the opposite direction. Since we had already passed through once I was able to move a bit more quickly, although Gaius still clutched at my belt. I knew time was growing short; I expected at any moment some sort of alarm or commotion to come from the slaves’ quarters, simply because there were more slaves and hence more people to control. I had considered sending Balbus with Scribonius to handle the larger numbers, but I was also somewhat expecting that Deukalos would have a guard somewhere in the house. Usually, these men are hired from the ranks of former gladiators, while sometimes they are former Legionaries, and this was the reason I kept Balbus with us. Making it through the atrium again, I began moving up the hallway that I could now see was to the bedroom, where the blackness was absolute, signaling that there was indeed a door blocking the light that would come from the windows in the bedroom. Holding onto one wall, I was moving my foot forward when two things happened, although I am not sure which occurred first, or if it was simultaneous. There was a shout from the direction of the slaves’ quarters, shattering the stillness, just as my foot struck something soft and yielding that immediately reacted to the touch with a jerk of movement and a muffled exclamation. I barely had a moment in which to react to the sudden disturbance of air, the movement that caused it more sensed than seen. However, the sudden slamming of a wildly aimed fist that landed squarely on my shoulder, numbing my entire left arm and sending stabs of pain shooting through my body was very real. I reeled backwards into Gaius, knocking him off balance and I heard him careen into Balbus, one of them letting out an explosive grunt that coincided with the same sound from my attacker as he followed up his punch by slamming his body into me. I could tell that he was smaller than I was, my size keeping me from keeling over backwards, though he was very strong. One hand groped for a purchase on what he thought would be a tunic but was instead my armor, while the other reached out, trying to claw me in the eyes. Not surprisingly, he misjudged my height, yet that was actually worse as his hand found my throat, vulnerable because I had not tucked my chin down quickly enough. While he was trying this, I reached down for my dagger, thinking to end this quickly with a thrust to his body. Somehow, he sensed my purpose because he released his grip on my armor, whipping his hand down to grab my forearm in a crushing grip, clearly intent on stopping me from pulling my weapon. All this took the span of a dozen heartbeats, while I could hear Gaius and Balbus struggling to their feet, telling me I was still on my own. We continued to wrestle, both of us endowed with the desperate courage that comes from the knowledge that the next few panting breaths could be our last.
Behind my opponent, down the hallway and emanating from the bedchamber, I heard cries of alarm, so I knew that time was slipping away. If this Deukalos had his wits about him, he could very likely escape through the window. It was this idea that decided my next move, as I whipped my head forward, striking blindly at where I thought the other man’s head would be. I guessed correctly, stars exploding in my head with the impact, but I was rewarded with the crunching sound of gristle as the man’s nose was squashed flat against his face. His grip loosened as he let out a howl of pain, giving me all the opening I needed, jerking my arm from his grasp to draw the dagger and bringing it up in one motion, feeling it punch deep into his side. His breath left his body, washing me in the odor of garlic, wine, and garum as he fell to his knees. Surprisingly he did not let out a scream, emitting more of a low, despairing moan when I wrenched the blade free, feeling the warmth I knew was his blood spurt onto my hand. Without waiting, I moved past the inert body of the guard, reaching out to feel the door. The instant my hand touched the wood, I lowered my shoulder, smashing it open, the door swinging to slam into the wall, making the loudest sound to this moment, even causing me to jump in surprise. It took a heartbeat to make out the scene before me, but I quickly saw that the window shutters were open and I could make out a dark bulk trying to climb out of the window. Moving as swiftly as I could, I crossed the room in two or three strides, reaching out to grab hold of the fabric clothing the body of the person trying to escape. There was a surprised yelp when I yanked backwards to pull the person down out of the window frame, but there was only a ripping sound as the gown came away in my hand. Now that the person was naked, I could see that it was a man, an enormously fat man, whose legs were scrabbling for purchase on the wall as he continued trying desperately to get away. There was no way to get a good purchase on bare skin, so I pulled out my sword, pressing the point of it directly into the fat man’s rear end. Immediately the legs stopped working, his body sagging back into the room. I became aware that someone was standing next to me, their breathing harsh from the excitement and exertion.
“Deukalos the merchant?”
I now saw no point in keeping quiet, my voice rasping from the effects of a hand being on my windpipe just moments before. There was no immediate answer. Pressing the sword a little harder, I was rewarded by a whimper of pain.
Finally, a surprisingly high voice answered in Greek, “No, you have the wrong man!”
“Really?”
I sounded surprised, but said over my shoulder to Balbus and Gaius, “Kill everyone in the house.”
“No!”
As I expected, the threat to his family and slaves was more than enough, while I was just happy that I did not have to carry it out.
In a defeated voice, he said, “Yes, I am Deukalos. What do you want with me?”
“I think you know,” was my only answer.
I directe
d Balbus and Gaius to tie the fat merchant up before putting him in the sack, which was yet another problem. After he was trussed and a gag stuck in his mouth, Balbus and Gaius tried to stuff him in the sack, except that it became clear very quickly that it was not big enough. Cursing bitterly, I directed one of the others to light a lamp so that we could look around to find something suitable to use as a substitute.
A moment later, the lamp came guttering to life, its flickering light seeming bright as the sun after the total darkness in which we had just been immersed. That is when I became aware that there was another person present, and I looked over to the bed to see a smallish figure with the sheets pulled up to the chin, while Gaius stood gaping open-mouthed, sword in hand. I walked over, seeing the long, tousled black hair and a set of enormous eyes, the only part of her face visible, peering up as they darted from Gaius to me. Gently reaching down, I pulled the sheet away from her face, and there was a collective gasp from all of us in the room. The girl was a rare beauty, with the kind of face that made men stop and stare, and I was sorely tempted to pull the sheet down further to see if her figure matched the promises of the full lips. They were slightly parted and moist as she was shallowly panting in obvious fear. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I am not sure which, the thought of Miriam suddenly chose that moment to force its way to the front of my brain, so I refrained.
As if reading my thoughts, Gaius said helpfully, “We need that sheet to wrap him up. Should I take it?”
I glared at him. Even in the dim light from a single lamp, I could see his face redden, and he became defensive. “We need something to wrap his fat ass in,” he protested.
