Bedrock of Empire

by Thomas M D Brooke

  I picked up Aulus’ discarded wooden gladius and asked Blasius, ‘How long did you serve in the legions then?’

  Blasius gave a smile. ‘I served six good years in the legions of Spain, before the goddess Fortuna looked favourably on me and I was reassigned to the Praetorians. I served a further full term of service with them, sixteen years in the Praetorians.’

  I passed him the wooden gladius. ‘When did you retire?’

  Blasius packed up the two gladii in a leather bag that the legionaries had brought to the deck. ‘Three years ago. My retirement gift gave me a large discharge bonus, five thousand denarii, which should have set me up for the rest of my life. Unfortunately, Fortuna didn’t smile on me so favourably in business, so I found myself in Rome with barely a denarius to my name. Good for me that Germanicus took me on to serve as a lictor.’

  I was astounded. ‘You lost five thousand denarii! Even my carefree-spending friend Horatius Rufa never racks up such amounts. How did you manage it?’

  Blasius laughed. ‘Let’s just say it was a case of slow chariots but faster women.’

  I gave a low chuckle. ‘Yes, I’ve met a few of those myself.’ I was beginning to like my roguish lictor. ‘You’re still a good swordsman. Your footwork is perfect.’

  Blasius inclined his head. ‘Well, I’m not as quick as I once was, but twenty-two years in the legions is good for something, so I’m grateful I can still make a living out of the strength of my arm.’

  I clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Well, we shouldn’t need it on this trip, but it’s good to have a steady man by my side.’

  We were interrupted by Bricius, who came over to me. ‘Your men will have to go below decks soon. The lookout says we are approaching the island of Corsica.’

  I put my hands on my hips. ‘Surely it’ll take us most of the day to reach it?’

  Bricius nodded. ‘Yes, but the currents are tricky near the Corsican straits. No hurry, but as soon as we get closer, I want all your men below decks. I can’t afford any distractions.’

  I agreed. ‘Alright, fair enough. Blasius, can you warn Marcus?’

  Blasius nodded and walked off to tell the others, whilst I asked Bricius, ‘Is it alright if I stay out on deck? I’ve heard a lot about the straits and would like to see them for myself.’

  In truth, I had no interest in either seeing the straits or not, but if they were as dangerous as I’d heard, I’d be dammed if any trierarchus was going to keep me locked below decks.

  Bricius grunted. ‘As long as you don’t get in our way. Your spindly friend can stay in his cabin. He’ll end up spooking the men with his timid manner.’

  I took it that the spindly friend in question was Aulus. ‘You needn’t worry about him. I doubt he’ll be coming out of our cabin anytime soon.’

  He growled, ‘Good,’ before walking off and shouting at his sailors to look sharp and ready on the approach.

  We reached the Corsican straits more quickly than I’d expected, the strong currents of the region pulling us into the gap between the islands of Corsica and Sardinia. Once Marcus, Blasius and the other legionaries had gone below decks as ordered, I took my place near Bricius and the pilot controlling the large steering oar.

  The trierarchus had ordered his sailors to take the mainsail down, preferring to rely on the small foremost sail and the strength of his oarsmen as we made our passage through the straits, rather than the powerful but less predictable and harder to control square sail.

  I looked out at the two islands separated by a distance of approximately seven miles. ‘The gap between them looks reasonable enough?’ I asked Bricius.

  He gave a gruff snort. ‘Appearances can be deceptive. There are plenty of reefs along that strait. In truth, only a small channel is navigable.’ He tapped the pilot’s arm on the steering oar and motioned that he should adjust our line fractionally to the north. ‘But that alone wouldn’t make the straits difficult to traverse.’

  I looked around at the seemingly calm sea and warm afternoon sun. ‘So why are they treacherous?’

  He shrugged. ‘It’s the currents. Neptune pushes the sea in strange patterns around the islands, one that is difficult to predict. The weather looks fine today, and when the wind is coming from the south, as it is now, the sea god tends to be calm. Then the channel can be travelled by someone who knows the positions of the shoals and reefs. Fortunately for you, I’ve sailed these straits many times, so I know when I can travel them.’

  I nodded knowingly, not wanting to show my nerves as we approached the rocky coastline near the north island, Corsica. ‘And when is it least safe to make the journey?’

  Bricius scanned the sea and coastline. ‘If the wind is coming from the south-west, the weather can be unpredictable. You only risk the straits then if you’re in dire need. However, it is when the weather is coming from the north-east, down from the mountains of Cisalpine Gaul, that you never want to touch this small stretch of water. You don’t want the winds and currents blowing you into those reefs.’

  I looked to the north-east to see if I could see any clouds or weather. Nothing, just blue sky stretching to the horizon. ‘Have you ever tried it?’

  Bricius smiled. ‘If I had, you wouldn’t be talking to me now. I’d have already been taken into Neptune’s embrace.’

  I swallowed hard. ‘But what if the wind changes when we’re halfway through?’

  He looked at the pilot and they both smiled. ‘Then we’re all dead men.’

  I gritted my teeth in annoyance at their easy manner. ‘And there’s no way of knowing for sure?’

  Bricius shook his head. ‘Some of the sailors consult the augurs before they sail, but I’ve never put too much trust in what they say.’

  I grunted. ‘Me neither.’

  Bricius grinned at that. ‘Try not to worry. It’s extremely rare for the winds to come from the north-east. Generally, in these waters, the prevailing winds are either from the south or west.’ He looked up to the tutela, the wooden figurine that was mounted on the stern of the ship. ‘I’m sure Minerva will look over us now and see us through Neptune’s road.’

  Somehow, that wasn’t very comforting.

  Bricius slowed the Severitas down as we made our slow progress through the narrow straits. Most of the time he spent by the steering oar, checking that the pilot was moving the ship in accordance with his own line, which varied only subtly during the journey. We spotted other ships in the distance making the same treacherous journey. They were too far away for us to follow their lead, but I noticed that all were taking the journey slowly. This clearly wasn’t the place to rush through hoping for the best.

  Every so often, Bricius would shout over to his oarsmen and ask them to give a few beats of their oars to readjust our line, if an unexpectedly strong current took us off the direction he wished us to travel. At one point he even ran along the length of the ship to lean over the bulwarks near the prow of the ship to check our depth, or for an unexpected sandbank. My heart was in my mouth at this stage, but Bricius soon returned to his position by the steering oar and asked the oarsmen to pick up the pace ever so slightly.

  I didn’t dare ask him any questions at this point. As soon as we entered the straits I felt the sombre mood of the sailors on the ship. It was clear they all recognised the danger of making this journey. The evidence of many shipwrecks along the channel, washed up against the rocky shores, told you all you needed to know about how dangerous these waters were. Earlier, I’d hoped that Bricius and his pilot were exaggerating the dangers, to scare the new quaestor and have a laugh at my expense. But the many splintered bits of driftwood and broken hulls that dotted the channel soon put me right on that score. I looked up at the tutela of Minerva and started to pray that the winds wouldn’t change now – I think if I felt even a breath of wind coming from the north-east at that point, my heart would have stopped.

  Bricius kept a look of fierce concentration throughout the passage, revealing a strong determination, not wasting an
y energy on idle talk or jokes to break the tension. I was pleased to see it, as I knew my life, and those of Marcus, Blasius and Aulus, all depended on it.

  Finally, the straits opened up, revealing a large bay protected by some small islands to the far south-west of us. Bricius clapped his helmsman on the shoulder and shouted at the hortator to raise the pace of the oarsmen. ‘It looks like we live to sail another day after all. Neptune has been kind to us this day.’

  I let out a breath of relief. ‘Then we’re safe now? The danger has passed.’

  He shook his head. ‘You’re never fully out of danger on Neptune’s seas. Squalls and bad weather can come on you with no warning and take you to a watery grave.’ He looked around at the seas with satisfaction. ‘But as far as the channel goes, yes, we’re passed the worse now. Those islands over there are the Gorditanum Isles and they protect the sea port of Turris Libisonis on the north coast of Sardinia. We’ll stop off there for a night to give thanks for our safe travel through the straits.’

  I wiped the sweat from above my brow. I was never much of a religious man, but I was certain that for once I’d be joining Bricius in giving an offering to the gods.

  It took us the rest of the day to reach the seaport of Turris Libisonis, and as promised we stopped over for one night in the rough seaport. Most of the sailors, and some of the oarsmen, were allowed to go ashore and get drunk in the many tavernas and more than likely frequent the even more plentiful brothels on offer. Marcus was adamant that none of his Praetorians should be offered the same opportunity. He knew that the presence of imperial Praetorians in such a rowdy port was bound to attract trouble. It was something the men grumbled over, but I think Centurion Iovis gave his grudging respect to Marcus for it. I went back on land, accompanied by Blasius and Aulus, and visited the temple to Neptune, built by the main docks, and gave an offering. I obviously had no bull to sacrifice for him, but I did have a Greek golden coin that I’d packed for the sea journey. It had a depiction of a bull on one side, and I used it as a piaculum to placate the brother of Jupiter, knowing that anything lower in value would have insulted the notoriously difficult-to-please god of the seas and waters.

  Aulus returned to the ship, but Blasius persuaded me to go for a drink in one of the busy tavernas that lined the main street adjacent to the port. Blasius had a prodigious capacity for drinking unwatered wine, and the night soon turned into a far livelier affair than I’d planned.

  I remembered little of the night afterwards, other than my lictor persuading a group of sailors to lay bets on an Egyptian arm-wrestle between me and one of their crewmen. They were from a trading cog that like us had made the passage through the straits and just like us had also imbibed far too much wine. In any event, it seemed to make little difference to the sailor’s ability to bend my arm backwards, as he soundly thrashed me. Blasius didn’t seem too put out. Maybe he’d bet on my opponent.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I woke up in the cabin I shared with Aulus with an extremely heavy head. It had been a while since I’d last suffered from a hangover, so the thumping in my head seemed that much more acute. I sat up and groaned, rubbing the top of my head whilst I removed an annoying sandal from under my thigh that I must have inadvertently slept on.

  ‘So, the great adventurer has risen. What a wonder to behold,’ remarked Aulus, who sat in the corner of our cabin. He had a few of his wooden sheaves in front of him and a pot of acacia gum ink and stylus in his hands, taking notes.

  I looked around in confusion. Strong sunlight was streaming through the canvas walls of our canvas and timber cabin, and the ship rocked gently up and down. ‘Have we already set off from port?’

  Aulus gave a slight chuckle. ‘We left at dawn, Cassius. It’s nearly noon now.’

  I rubbed my sore head again. ‘Oh! Really? It was Blasius’ fault. He led me astray.’

  Aulus looked askance at me. ‘He’s your lictor, Cassius. He follows your orders, not the other way around.’

  He had a point. I rubbed my arm, which was still hurting from the arm-wrestle. ‘At least I made it back to the ship, so no harm done.’

  Aulus gave a loud sniff. ‘Maybe not, but I don’t think your friend Marcus is happy with you.’

  I winced. This subject had caused a rift between us in the past. I got up and went to find him.

  As usual, he was overseeing a small group of legionaries, those whose turn it was to be on deck. As soon as I emerged from the cabin, he had a word with his centurion and then came over to me, face framed with disapproval. ‘So you’re up then. Good sleep?’

  I rubbed my sore eyes. ‘Yes, I suppose so. I must have slept for a good long time. Sorry if I got back late.’

  Marcus shook his head. ‘Normally I wouldn’t care less how late you stayed out. But I’m supposed to be the captain of your guard. How can I guard you if you won’t tell me where you’re going? Anything could have happened in that port. It was hardly the most civilised of towns.’

  I nodded. ‘Yes, I’m sorry. But I at least had my bodyguard Blasius to look after me.’

  Marcus laughed. ‘Much good he’d have been. I saw the state he came back in last night, falling down the ladder to the hold. He’s down there now, snoring soundly.’

  I gave a slight chuckle. ‘Sorry, it won’t happen again.’

  Marcus frowned. ‘It better not. If I’m to command your guard, you need to respect my position too.’

  I nodded again. Nothing like being told off by someone nearly ten years your junior to put you in your place. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking. Anyway, let’s see if a little exercise helps me work off this hangover.’

  Marcus smiled. ‘I’ll join you. What did you have in mind?’

  Marcus stripped off his tribune’s breastplate and armour and the two of us performed a variety of floor exercises on the rough wooden deck. It was hard with such a sore head and the slight roll of the deck, and Marcus showed me up in front of the men, being far more agile and limber than me this day. Afterwards, we tried some sparring with the wooden training gladii, circling round one another on the deck before striking back and forth in attack, parry and counterstrike. Both of us were good with the gladius, masters of our craft, and more than a few of the sailors and oarsmen looked over at us as we danced backwards and forwards.

  We both kept our defence tight, but eventually Marcus landed a heavy blow, a particularly painful one to my elbow. ‘Ouch! You got me there. I missed the parry.’

  Marcus grinned. ‘That should teach you to go out drinking all night. You deserved that one.’

  I rubbed the elbow and grinned. ‘I’m not done yet. Shall we go again?’

  He nodded, and I struck again, trying to find a weakness in his strong defence. Marcus was an excellent swordsman, probably even better than I was. Only once in my life had I surpassed his skill level, when I’d fought the German champion, Ewald. Pure need and necessity had given me the ability to wield my gladius in a manner that I’d never quite recaptured since, but the memory of it still gave me a rare ability. I forced Marcus backwards as I struck a succession of complex blows, each faster than the last, trying to let my instincts lead my sword arm.

  I’m pretty sure I would have had him then, but just as I was closing in for the final thrust, the ship lurched upwards and my concentration broke.

  Marcus didn’t miss the opportunity, and he struck a counterblow to my stomach. ‘Got you!’ he said in triumph.

  I was slightly winded, but I raised my hand to halt Marcus. ‘Never mind that now, the wind seems to be picking up. Look at these waves.’

  The ship was lurching up and down over a succession of breakers, each swell bringing our ship upwards before sending her straight down again. Marcus looked around. ‘It does appear to be getting rather choppy.’

  I felt the wind on my face. ‘Tell me, where do you think that wind is coming from?’

  Marcus stopped to consider for a moment. ‘The north, I think, or maybe the north-east. Why?’

&nbs
p; An uneasy feeling came over me. ‘I was worried you might say that. I don’t think this is good, Marcus.’

  Bricius came over to me. ‘You need to stop your games now. I need the deck. We need to take down the mainsail. Tell all your men to get below decks.’

  Marcus rushed off to comply, noting the urgency in the trierarchus’ voice.

  I stayed where I was. ‘I noted where the wind was coming from, blowing directly through the Corsican straights?’

  Bricius nodded as he looked up at the sail and as other sailors untied the ropes that were keeping it aloft. ‘Yes, many sailors will be passing into Neptune’s realm today. Let us hope he is merciful and we’re not amongst them.’

  I didn’t like the sound of that. ‘But we should be alright now. We’ve passed through the straits safely?’

  Bricius stopped what he was doing and turned to me. He pointed to the north-east. ‘See that shadow on the horizon?’ I nodded. It was hard to miss: a foreboding bank of dark clouds. ‘That’s a storm front, and a large one.’ He then pointed to the islands over to the west of us that sheltered the bay. ‘Those are the Gorditanum Isles. Normally they’re a blessing, as they shelter us from the strong south-westerlies that come through here. But this time, that wind is going to push us right into them.’ He looked me squarely in the eye. ‘If we don’t make it around the headland by the time the storm hits, and avoid those isles, we’ll be crushed against their rocks.’

  Damn Germanicus and his ships. He had far too much faith in this mode of transport. ‘I’ll let you get on with what you need to do. I’ll stay out of your way.’

  He nodded. No other words were needed.

  I went to stand outside my cabin on the stern as Bricius brought the mainsail down. Aulus came out of our cabin. ‘Is something going on? The water seems very rough. I have a good mind to speak to our trierarchus. You know about my delicate stomach. It can’t handle rough seas.’