Pirate Legion

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Pirate Legion Page 12

by S. J. A. Turney


  A few feet away, Marcus was craning to see. He was a little taller than Callie, and the height clearly made a difference, for a smile crossed his face too. And Gallo. And Potens. What was happening?

  The enemy horsemen shuffled aside slightly a moment later, the archers lowering their bows and letting the strings go loose, Callie peered between the riders and her own face lit up. Numerous armoured men were coming up the slope, emerging from the bushes to either side. They wore the armour of legionaries and the insignia of the Twenty Second Legion, and at the head of them, sweating and weary, was Secundus.

  ‘I’m not late to the party, am I?’ the legionary officer smiled.

  Callie laughed. And as if the sight of the rest of their century moving to surround the Minoan’s men wasn’t enough, she could also see the governor’s cavalrymen now, staggering back up the slope, nursing their wounds and looking sheepish at their enthusiastic foolishness that had almost cost them the whole plan. Their officer wore a look of fuming irritation.

  The Minoan sat still on his horse and rapped his fingers rhythmically on the saddle.

  ‘Well now, I think you’ll still be letting me go, will you not?’

  ‘Why would we do that?’ Secundus asked.

  ‘Why, because I’ve not done anything, soldier.’

  Callie’s smile froze in place. She hadn’t thought of that.

  ‘You tried to take the governor’s statue by force,’ Marcus shouted from the wagon angrily.

  ‘Quiet, brat,’ the Minoan snarled. ‘I did no such thing. In fact, my friends and I were just taking the air on the hills behind Lebena when the governor’s men attacked us. There was no crime, and therefore no witnesses to a crime.’

  ‘If you think we’re letting you go because of that…’ barked Gallo, but Callie stepped forward.

  ‘I remember your words, Furius Maleficus,’ she said sharply. ‘When you had us at your mercy. And the men at the weapons in the next cart will remember, too. They’re the governor’s men, and so they will count as witnesses.’

  ‘Witnesses to what?’ snapped the silver-haired villain.

  One of the men at the scorpion stood straight and pointed at the Minoan. ‘“Open the wagon”, you said. “I want to see my prize.” That was exactly what you said. “My prize.”’

  ‘And there was only one thing in the wagon other than us,’ Marcus shouted triumphantly. ‘By your own words you claimed the governor’s sculpture as your prize. You are a thief and a pirate.’

  ‘Pah,’ the Minoan snorted. ‘My lawyers will see me out of this bother in moments.’

  ‘Not this time,’ Gallo said with a smile. ‘I do believe that the governor will make sure of that. And once the new emperor knows that you tried to steal a gift of his, I think any support you have back in Rome will just wither away. Your reign of terror is over, Furius Maleficus.’

  The Minoan narrowed his eyes and suddenly he turned, shouting ‘protect me’ to his men and kicking his horse’s sides to ride off. But the legionaries were there now, and Secundus grabbed the horse’s reins before it could move, then reached up with his other big, strong soldier’s hand and yanked the Minoan out of the saddle. The villain fell to the dusty road and landed hard, knocking the breath from him. Dog sauntered over from where he had been rustling in the undergrowth and took an experimental chomp on the Minoan’s arm, causing him to shriek and shake the canine off desperately before clutching the bite wound. The mutt ran his tongue over his teeth briefly, looked as though he didn’t like what he tasted – which, for an animal that ate dead rats, was impressive – and ambled off.

  ‘Tie him up,’ Secundus said to his men. Then he began to walk up the slope towards the wagons. As he passed the Minoan’s mercenaries, he paused. ‘I don’t remember seeing any of you here, and I don’t think my friends did either, as long as you disappear right now and I never lay eyes on you again.’

  The Minoan’s men looked at one another for a moment, then nodded and turned, riding off at high speed. As Secundus reached the carts, Gallo frowned.

  ‘Why did you let them go?’

  ‘They were only mercenaries – soldiers for hire – sir. It would be a lot of trouble trying to arrest them and transport them and put them through trials. And the governor won’t care about them, as long as he has their master. Besides, they might argue and support the Minoan’s case in court. This way there’s no one to speak for him but himself.’

  Marcus nodded his agreement.

  ‘Where did you come from, though?’ Scriptor asked, sheathing his sword. ‘Not that I’m not happy to see you. But I am surprised.’

  The century’s deputy commander grinned. ‘Funny thing. We were sat in the inn this morning down near the port having breakfast when a whole load of Roman sailors and marines arrived. They told us that they were here to help stop a villain getting off the island with the governor’s priceless artwork. As soon as I heard that I knew it would be you involved. We knew you’d be coming from Gortyn, so we just came up to the top of the hill on the Gortyn road and waited. As soon as I saw that motley lot waiting, I had a feeling they were villains and that you’d be along soon enough.’

  ‘Well this has been a whole series of complete surprises,’ Centurion Gallo said, stretching and sheathing his own sword. ‘First the ships, then the scorpions, and now you. A great relief, though. I thought we were done for there, for a while.’ He vaulted from the wagon and walked on down the gritty track until he reached the Minoan, who was kneeling between two legionaries, his hands tied with a leather strap.

  ‘And you? You’re going back to Gortyn so the governor can personally put you through the wringer.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Marcus and Callie smiled and leaned back against the wall of the hostel, watching the impressive warships of the Roman navy manoeuvring in preparation for leaving the harbour and putting out to sea. The morning was already bright and warm, and everything felt good again.

  Dog snapped his teeth a couple of times at a fly that kept trying to land on his nose, gave up and dozed off again on the warm stone.

  It had been four days now, and they had settled in to relax at Lebena. The governor’s cavalry soldiers, embarrassed by their failure, had been relieved to discover that where they had fought the enemy warriors and suffered several nasty injuries, they had been only five minutes’ walk from a sanctuary of Aesculapius, the healing god. They had been tended quickly and efficiently by the sanctuary’s staff and were now recovering slowly in taverns around the town. The Minoan had been bundled up in chains and taken by wagon back to Gortyn as fast as possible, under the guard of the few governor’s men who were unharmed, supported by Secundus and his legionaries and several marines from the Roman fleet. It seemed that the villain would never cause trouble again.

  Callie and Marcus had asked what they were doing next, but Centurion Gallo was happy to stay and relax for now in Lebena. Until they had confirmation of the Minoan’s fate to give to the prefect back in Egypt there was no point in heading home. Besides, there were years of rebuilding ahead in Alexandria to turn the city back into a fully inhabited place, and the legionaries of Gallo’s century were in no hurry to run home and cut stone blocks and mix concrete if they could lounge around in a Cretan bar and soak up the sun and the sea breeze, and it seemed the centurion shared their opinion.

  They had done enough to deserve a little time off, he said.

  And Callie was pleased at the delay. Because there was still one matter to clear up for her, and she was still waiting for news, though she hoped she wouldn’t have to wait much longer. The lookouts up on the Gortyn road, who had been posted there for days just in case the Minoan’s men decided to come back for a little revenge, had sent word that the governor’s carriage had been seen a few miles away in the hills. The governor was coming to Lebena to watch his prized statue disappear as a gift to the emperor.

  The old emperor Trajan had not been one for art and music, preferring to be at war on the borders of the empi
re when he could, but it was said that Hadrian was a great follower of the arts and had a special love for all things Greek, so the governor might find himself winning a great deal of imperial favour with that statue as a gift. A man could go far in Rome if he pleased his emperor.

  ‘Stand to,’ shouted a voice from around the corner, and the legionaries and officers lounging around on the patio and balcony outside the hostel and the attached inn suddenly shot to their feet at attention, ready to salute. Dog opened an eye, thought better about it, and closed it again.

  A man in a posh officer’s uniform turned the corner with several gleaming, impressive looking soldiers in his wake. Marcus caught Centurion Gallo’s expression for a moment before it became plain and respectful, and he tried not to grin. After the mess caused by the governor’s glittery cavalrymen, Gallo had to force himself not to sneer at these men too.

  A few moments later, the huge, portly governor, looking hotter and sweatier than ever, rounded the corner, lying on a cushioned litter that was being carried by four muscly slaves. What little hair he had wafted upwards like a fine curtain as he waved a small fan to keep himself cool. As they reached the front of the hostel and his attendants caught up with him, the governor motioned with his fan and the slaves carefully lowered the litter so their master could climb off and stand up.

  A man ran forward and helped him adjust the heavy toga that was combining with the hot sun to make the governor sweat so much despite the fan.

  ‘Centurion Gallo, it is very good to see you and your men again.’

  ‘Governor,’ the centurion said respectfully.

  ‘I felt it was important that I came to see my artwork go. It is sad to see it depart,’ he noted as he glanced at the harbour and watched the ships turning and back-watering, preparing to leave for Rome. ‘And it appears I only just arrived in time. Still, though I lose one of my favourite possessions, it will buy me favour with the new emperor, and that will pay dividends in time. Thank you all.’

  ‘What of the Minoan, sir?’ Gallo asked respectfully.

  ‘Oh, he is sitting in a very small dark room at the moment, watched by my men. His villa and all his businesses have been stripped from him, as well as his fortune. He is effectively a beggar now. I am in two minds whether to put him on trial or just call that punishment enough, since he will never be in a position to cause trouble again. I’ll decide in good time. But in place of my nice Laocoön sculpture I already have several lovely pieces impounded from the Minoan’s house in Gortyn. I think it might prove to be a good deal for myself and for the province.’

  The governor accepted a cup of watered wine from one of his attendants and took a sip, pulling a face at the poor quality and then handing it back and shaking his head.

  ‘Sadly, there is not much we can do right now about the pirates,’ he said. ‘All his ships have been signed over to the port authorities, but the pirates are still out there and will not just surrender. But without his support they have no base to go back to and sooner or later they will all be caught by the Alexandrian and Syrian fleets. In fact, I am going to write a letter to send back on your ship, asking the prefect if he would kindly let me keep the triremes from his fleet on loan for now, until we are pirate-free.’

  ‘I’m sure Prefect Turbo will quite happily do so,’ the centurion replied with a smile.

  There was a moment’s silence, and then the governor realised that Callie was looking up at him with a hopeful expression.

  ‘I have not forgotten about you and your brother, young lady. I owe you a debt of thanks as much as I do your friends here.’

  He snapped his fingers and one of his attendants ran across with a writing pad. The governor flicked it open and ran his finger down the words inside.

  ‘I have had my clerks run through every record we could find from the Minoan’s house and from his businesses. Fortunately for us, he keeps a very good account of his slave sales, as he does all his other goods. After all, you have to be very careful trading slaves. There are so many rules and regulations to abide by.’

  Marcus rose to stand next to his sister. His heart was pounding. Was this it? Three years of not knowing what had happened and would they now, finally, learn the fate of their parents?

  ‘It would appear,’ the governor said, ‘that four slaves noted as having come from Alexandria in June three years ago were sold on immediately. Their names are given as Apollonios and Aline, Horon and Apia.’

  Marcus’ face fell. ‘That’s not them.’

  ‘Those are slave names, young man, not their original ones,’ the governor replied. ‘The Minoan could hardly sell them with the names of Roman citizens. All the documentation has been kept, though, as it was a legitimate sale to a legitimate buyer. Somehow, the Minoan managed to acquire documents that confirm the slave status of those two men and two women who had been captured on the Argo. It is difficult to acquire high quality forgeries, and if I can track down those responsible, we might also begin to unravel an illegal slave trade network, which will be another feather in my helmet, as it were.’

  ‘You said there were full documents?’ prompted uncle Scriptor.

  Callie leaned forward, her face suddenly hungry. Marcus stepped forward too. Documents. Information. A lead?

  ‘Yes. Forgive my rambling,’ the governor smiled. ‘The slaves were all sold to a Phoenician slave trader by the name of Tanubda, who hails from Caesarea in Judea. They departed for his home town that same month.’

  ‘Judea,’ repeated Callie, her voice a mixture of sadness and hope.

  ‘Slaves in Judea,’ Marcus said angrily. ‘Our mum and dad.’

  ‘My brother and my sister-in-law,’ Scriptor growled.

  Centurion Gallo stepped across and grasped Scriptor’s arm. ‘We’ll do something, my friend. I don’t quite know what, but we’ll do something. Once we’ve reported back to Prefect Turbo, he might…’

  He tailed off. Once they were back in garrison in Alexandria with so much work to do for the legions, the chances of them being given leave to cross the sea and follow the trail were almost non-existent. The governor seemed to understand.

  ‘Perhaps I might be of assistance?’ he asked.

  Scriptor’s head snapped round and both children looked up eagerly.

  ‘Well, you have done me a very good turn here on the island. It would only be right of me to repay you for your help. And you have completed your mission for the prefect. Stay in Lebena for a few more days or weeks while my investigators follow the trail of the forged slave documents. Then, if the Minoan has been doing so much business in Caesarea and with the slavers there, I might need to work with the governor of Judea. Perhaps you would be kind enough to convey my letters to him?’

  Marcus and Callie looked at one another in surprise and delight, and then in hope at Centurion Gallo, who seemed unsure. ‘Prefect Turbo will be expecting us to return to the garrison, governor.’

  The big man chuckled. ‘I am certain that if Prefect Turbo can spare me some of his ships to combat piracy, then he will lend me a century of men to help me break an illegal slavery ring. After all, he has two legions and I have none. I can send the request along with my one for the ships. If, that is, you are happy to carry out a few little tasks for me?’

  Gallo shrugged and looked over at Scriptor. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I would be more than a little disappointed to get this close to a proper answer and go home without following up on a lead, sir.’

  The centurion nodded. ‘So would I.’ He turned to the children. ‘But if we are to follow these slavers to Judea, then I want to impose some rules. Marcus, you’re still too young to draw pay with the legion, but I shall grant you the rank of tiro – a trainee legionary. You will be expected to do your share of everything the legion does, mind. Think you can handle that?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Marcus grinned, snapping to attention.

  ‘And Callie? While I will always prize your initiative and mind that repeatedly wins us the victory. t
here are to be no more surprises and secrets, or at least not from me and your uncle. It all worked out this time, but family should not keep secrets, and you’re family to us. So will you promise to be clear and honest with us from now on if we go to Judea to look for your mum and dad? And to track down the slavers,’ he added, glancing apologetically across at the governor, who just smiled.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Callie said meekly, though Marcus noted a twinkle in her eye that led him to believe she was telling a little fib again right now. Still, he wasn’t going to pull her up on it and endanger their chances of going to Judea.

  Caesarea. Another great port city, like Alexandria.

  ‘Very well, sir,’ Centurion Gallo said, straightening and saluting the governor. ‘If you can square it all with Prefect Turbo then we’re at your disposal.’

  Marcus and Callie beamed broadly and hugged each other. This whole affair had come perilously close to failure, and yet here they were, about to head for a whole new province with a positive lead on the whereabouts of their parents.

  Sometimes the world worked in odd and interesting ways, and the goddess Fortuna was clearly watching over them. Marcus prayed that she would continue to do so.

  In Judea.

  THE END

  Scriptor’s Fun Facts

  Crete is an island that lies between Greece and Africa and is now part of Greece. In the time of the emperor Hadrian, it was combined with Cyrenaica, which is roughly the modern country of Libya in North Africa, to make one big province, but it was all ruled from a governor’s palace at Gortyn on Crete.

  Slaves were a common sight in ancient Roman times. At one point, over a third of the population of Italy were slaves. Some slaves were treated very badly, working hard in brutal mines and quarries and ploughing fields for their masters, but some were treated well and even given a little money. Some eventually bought their freedom and one slave in Rome was so successful that not only was he freed, he ended up owning a whole chain of bakeries.

 

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