“My family fled Jerusalem for Galilee before I was born, ahead of the war against Rome. I was born there, went to sea from Tyre. Were you there for that war…Antonius?”
“Before my time. I heard it was very hard on your people. I am sorry… war is horrible.”
“Thank you for the thought. I did not know Romans apologized for anything.”
“It helps, sometimes. I understand some Jews believe that touching a non-Jew makes them unclean, so I will ask your permission before I extend my hand to you, Shmuel. May I?
“You may. It is becoming harder and harder to be as observant as I once was.” Shmuel gave just the faintest of smiles, and held out his hand. The two shook firmly.
After few days, Antonius issued the men helmets, shields and wooden training swords. They mastered various lunges and parries, the use of the shield to throw the enemy off balance, how to merge left, sheltering the man on that side with your shield as well as yourself. Then on to various throws and hand-to-hand combat, how to disarm a man with a knife when unarmed, and other tricks of the trade. At the end of training, Antonius allowed the best five to beat him at hand-to-hand and lay him out on the deck, to howls of glee from their shipmates. Finally, they were issued the real swords, but only to put their names on them and learn how to sharpen and repair them. Their graduation exercise came right before sailing, with an on-deck parade and demonstration drill before Gaius Lucullus, the captains, and Hasdrubal.
“Well done, Antonius. You seem to have turned shark bait into sharks!” said Hasdrubal.
“They were easy to work with, and quick to learn. Hopefully we won’t need their skills, but if we do, we won’t find them wanting. I expect any batch of boarders would be pretty much like they were at the start, individual fighters that could be easily beaten and finished off.”
In the course of the training, Antonius had discovered nothing untoward about the crew. And the discomfort he had felt about Hasdrubal on his arrival had evaporated. Perhaps Hasdrubal truly had been ill with dysentery. Indeed, he had frequently come onto the deck where Antonius conducted his training, to watch their progress, praising their professional manner as the defending crew swept a mock assault from the decks.
Hasdrubal had also learned where the keys to the armories were kept.
CHAPTER 15: UNDERWAY AT LAST
The convoy began their sortie from Myos Hormos a little after midnight in late April. Antonius and Gaius stayed up all night to watch the evolution.
Their escorting triremes Nilus, Tigris and Euphrates slipped their moorings first, to clear the area and patrol the approaches to the harbor mouth. They paced north and south along the coast like nervous black watchdogs, their sweeps occasionally catching a glimmer of moonlight, kicking up phosphorescent sparkles in the water. Periodically, the flagship Nilus repeated the “all clear” signal, three sweeps of a torch. Well before dawn, satisfied no pirates lurked in the area, the three warships took station in a line abreast north of the harbor, blocking the downwind approach.
At dawn, the big sailing ships received their ‘clear to sortie’ signal, and they too slipped their moorings, beginning with the Europa with Gaius and Antonius aboard. Four longboats with twelve rowers each tugged the bow of the big ship out into the channel, away from dockside. When she was about a hundred yards out, Demetrios gave orders to deploy the artemon. The foresail luffed restlessly in the light morning breeze, slapping ineffectively, then filled with an explosive pop. Almost instantly, the head of the ship went down and she began to turn downwind. The skipper gave word for the big mainsail to be deployed from the yardarm until it too filled. The longboats cast off their towing lines, and the waters of the harbor began to gurgle overside as the ship picked up headway, making for the flickering torches that marked the harbor mouth.
Outside the harbor, the Europa sailed south about a half mile before heaving to, rocking restlessly in the ocean swell awaiting the Africa, followed by the Asia with Aulus and Hasdrubal.
With the sun low on the morning horizon, the Nilus hoisted signal flags directing them to proceed. As they made sail, the Tigris and Euphrates flashed by on either side like black centipedes scurrying across the water to take their station in the van of the convoy, white foam hissing across their rams. On each warship, above the ram, a bronze wolf figurehead was frozen in a perpetual leap, two feet above the water.
“I don’t think they’ll keep that pace up long in this heat!” noted Gaius to Antonius, listening to the rapid rhythmic beat of the timekeeper thumping below decks on the warships as they sliced through the water close abeam, their wakes breaking on the sheer sides of the Europa.
And no sooner had the warships taken station in the van, they shipped oars and deployed their diminutive blue square sails, set far forward, and now wallowed along gracelessly. The three merchant ships matched speed.
Gaius contemplated this climax of weeks of preparations - sea trials, fine-tuning the various riggings for tension and placement, followed by more sea trials. And after they were complete, endless supplies had been brought aboard, jugs of oil and wheat, spare timbers and lines. I read a book once, of a trip to the moon by sailing ship. The moon could not be more remote than our destination across the Indian Ocean, with no place in mid-ocean for replacements. There had to be a spare in the hold for everything they could not do without!
The ships had topped off the midships water tanks on the last day. Here Roman hydraulics ingenuity showed: the Myos Hormos port could water up to ten ships at once with only a few people. A cistern had been placed on an artificial hill about thirty feet above the dock, filled with water from an artesian well. From this, lead pipes ran to the dock, with wooden valves at each slip, fitted with leather hoses to be inserted into each ship’s tank.
Finally, just before sunset on the night prior to departure, the money wagons had rumbled down the pier under guard by soldiers of the Myos Hormos garrison. Each chest had been opened, inspected by Aulus, weighed, resealed, receipts signed, then divided among the three ships and sealed into special holds. Each ship was carrying several tons of gold and silver, with a total value of fifty million sesterces.
Aulus, an ordained auspex, had then donned an olive wreath and conducted the official ceremonies, killing a sheep to carefully examine the animal’s liver. Holding the liver aloft, he had declared the auspices good, and sacrificed it in the ceremonial fire. As he did, a flock of birds had flown overhead, heading south, a further good omen for the journey.
The first afternoon at sea was pleasant, the wind moderating the heat. Gaius joined Antonius, Marcus Lucius and his sister Marcia Lucia lining the starboard rails to watch the shoreline, stark barren red granite rock punctuated by an occasional outcropping of greyish-green shrubbery. The ship leaned gently with the wind, pressing its prow against the sea as it headed south. The water chuckled gently against the hull, brownish-green water breaking into silver foam, swirling aft in the wake, stretching for miles as a disturbed white trace in the water behind them, in which one of their escorts behind them rocked restlessly. The ever-present sun beamed down on the Red Sea, clearly highlighting details miles away on the coastline.
A pod of dolphins had chosen to entertain them, their smooth grey bodies sinuously weaving through the curling bow wave. The animals took turns broaching the surface in a smooth curling flow, barely disturbing the water. Occasionally one came close enough for them to hear their peculiar chit-chit-chit.
Marcia was quite taken with the graceful animals. “What sort of fish are those? They are so graceful!” It was the first time Gaius had heard her initiate a conversation.
“They call ‘em… er, those are called dolphins. They have a reputation for saving people who fall overboard or are wrecked at sea. They push them to shore, sometimes for miles.” Antonius answered her in formal Latin; the two had difficulty with his coarse soldier’s Latin.
“They’re beautiful. And it almost seems like they are looking at us when they surface.”
Gaiu
s smiled, as Antonius continued the conversation. “So how did you come to keep our language for more than a century?”
Marcus answered, “Our ancestors moved around quite a bit before they settled down to build a borderpost they called the Legion fort. The locals called it Liqian in Hanaean. The soldiers took local wives and raised families. Their boys were expected to grow up to be soldiers like their fathers, and needed Latin for that. They learned Hanaean from their mothers, to go to market and deal with the locals. Over time, the fort was replaced by a town, but kept the name.”
“How do the locals get along with you?” asked Antonius.
Marcia smiled. “Pretty good, now. I was told that originally they didn’t like us much. The only wives our ancestors could come by were prostitutes, or ugly or deformed girls, rejects that the community didn’t want. But those women found a home with in Liqian, families and children, and they were very happy. Now, we pretty much look and talk like our neighbors, and there is a lot of friendship between us. But we still keep ourselves a little bit separate.”
She paused a bit to watch the dolphins cavorting alongside the ship, then returned to the conversation. “The Emperor Trajan is a remarkable man.”
“I never met him, of course. Way above my station in life! But those who have, speak well of him. How did you come to meet him?”
“The Emperor personally met with all of us and the Hanaean delegates in private, before the public ceremonies. He is quite different from the Hanaean emperor.”
“How so?”
“Well, just so much less formal. In the Hanaean court, there are ritual bowings, and specific times and ways to speak. We have only met Emperor He once, and were never in a position to do anything but listen. But when we arrived in Rome, we asked Trajan’s staff how to go in to meet him, and they said ‘Well, just go in, give a bit of a head nod, and if he extends his hand, give him a firm handshake. Look him straight in the eye.’ She laughed shyly, and her blue eyes twinkled. “We explained this to our leader Gan Ying who was … a bit shocked at the informality.”
Marcus interjected. “He adapted. He was a professional with experience in many countries. But he was uncomfortable through it all.”
Marcia picked up the thread. “Emperor Trajan then invited us to sit and made small talk with us, had drinks and trays of food brought in. He sat with us, asked about the Hanaean emperor, our homes and families, and swapped stories with us. I never felt so at ease with such a powerful man in all my life!”
“Well, don’t judge all our Emperors by his standards! He is one of the best, but we have had some bad ones,” said Antonius.
“How did you come to have Emperors? There is nothing in our tradition about them, just the elected magistrates and consuls,” asked Marcus.
“That came about around twenty years after your ancestors were separated from Rome.” Antonius gave them a quick sketch of the events that followed Crassus’ ignominious defeat, the civil wars that led to Caesar’s rise and assassination, and more civil wars until the installation of his nephew Octavian as Princeps Senatus, speaker of the Senate, and Imperator, commander in chief of all Roman legions.
“We created a monster when we did it, half hereditary king, half military dictator, and no easy way to get rid of a bad one. Three died hard, and a couple more died at the hand of their successor.” Antonius finished with a sigh. “And we have had some bad ones. Mostly, though, they only screwed with the upper crust, and left us on the bottom alone. How does your government work?”
“I guess hereditary king comes closest to describing it. The Hanae are the ruling clan, and have been for generations. Overall, they have been good. The emperor is the intermediary between man and the gods, and if he does well, the nation and the people prosper. If not… well, it can get turbulent… assassinations, maybe civil war to set things right. Like you, we have no orderly way to get rid of a bad emperor. For now, Emperor He is a kind and gentle man.”
“But his court is not,” said Marcia softly. Gaius thought he heard bitterness in her voice.
“So how did your expedition get to Rome? There surely were more in your party than just you six traveling with us,” asked Antonius.
Marcus answered, “We left the capital Luoyang with twenty delegates and military escorts, led by Gan Ying, plus ten of us translators, We went overland to Parthia through Da Yuan... I am sorry, I don’t know the Latin name of the place, between Ch’in and Parthia. When we got to the Parthian capital, they arranged shipping to take us south to Eudaemon Arabia. The ship abandoned us there, just left us stranded.”
“Arrgh, yer were had by those Parthian bastards!” Antonius said reverting to his soldier’s Latin.
“I am sorry, I didn’t understand,” said Marcia.
“It is I who am sorry. That brought my soldier’s talk out! The Parthians sent you thousands of miles out of your way. They didn’t want you to make it to Rome. Roman lines were only a few hundred miles from Ctesiphon. I know… I was on that line opposite them! You’re lucky they didn’t arrange for you to have an accident enroute.”
“So they played us for fools?” queried Marcus.
“Like a harp, lad, like a harp.”
“Hmm… that explains a lot, because the expedition began to fall apart in Eudaemon. The ship’s captain told us we were in Rome and sailed off. Gan Ying was about to turn back when we found a building with the Roman symbols, we thought it was the Roman Senate! When they found out who we were, they booked us passage to Rome, with a letter to Trajan.”
“So what happened afterwards to Gan Ying and the rest of the group?”
“They went overland to Parthia and back the way we had came. Trajan and Aulus Aemilius Galba persuaded them to leave five of us and Wang Ming, to get you to Luoyang. Ming is Marcia’s consort, but he decided to stay on Asia with the Senator;”
“So you are emissaries of Rome now?”
“Yes, we are your translators.”
“Interesting. Will you be returning to Rome someday?”
“You have no idea what a long and arduous trip it is. We couldn’t possibly do it again.”
Turning to Marcia, Antonius asked, “Your – uh – consort, he is on Aulus’s ship?”
“Wang Ming is not my consort, I am his concubine,” she replied coolly.
“I am sorry, I think I intruded on your personal business.”
“No matter. We are free Roman citizens on our father’s side, but slaves of the Hanaean Court on our mother’s.” Her face clouded. Taking her brother by the arm, it was clear she wanted to leave and end the conversation. “We must go now.”
“I hope we can continue,” said Antonius, but they made no reply, and he turned back to the rail to stare at the coastline.
Gaius put his arm around Antonius’ broad shoulders and smiled. “Not a full day underway, and you already had a fight with our female translator!” laughed Gaius.
“Women!” Antonius spat over the rail. “Asked about her life and she went off in a huff! What did I do wrong, sir?”
“Women never were your strong point, Antonius,” said Gaius, still chuckling. “I think her life is none too pleasant. Her arrangement does not seem to be a good one, not one she wants to talk about, so just avoid that subject for now. We are going to have to get some details on court protocol from them eventually. Meanwhile, don’t worry about it, you didn’t say anything wrong. Remember those things the Germans used, sharp spears in a shallow pit with a matt over them, and a scattering of leaves? I think you just stepped on one!”
They talked about Egypt, and Gaius was surprised to learn that Antonius had read the Histories of Herodotus dealing with this ancient land, and had a scholar’s grasp of that book.
“It’s hard to imagine a common soldier reading Herodotus.”
Antonius flushed. “Beggin’ yer pardon, sir!” He stared off sullenly into the Red Sea.
“Antonius, please. I didn’t mean to insult you. I knew you came from a long line of Greek tutors. It’s just th
at you don’t... seem like one.”
“It does not pay, sir, to reveal all of one’s skills for all the world to see,” replied Antonius, in the formal Latin that he had been using with Marcus and Marcia. “I am indeed a common soldier, dependent on my messmates for my very life. And my most noble officers would not care to see a common soldier standing too far above the crowd. They would be... uneasy. Patricians from Rome’s most famous families have served as common soldiers, as the unfortunate Lucius Servilius did, and they, too, found it prudent to blend in with their cruder messmates. Lest they wind up as he did.” He spoke in perfect scholarly style, the accent and intonation perfect.
“I am truly sorry, Antonius. You have had my greatest respect since our first combat together along the Danube, so many years ago. And yet... this was a side of you I never saw.”
“Arrgh, sir. Methinks we should have taken a boat trip sooner,” Antonius said, lapsing back into the vulgar Latin. “... with nothin’ better ter do than exchange bullshit about the meanin’ of life... we never had time ter do this, remember? If we wasn’t killin’, we was tryin’ not ter get killed, trainin’ ter kill, or thankin’ our lucky stars we dint’ get kilt. No offense intended, sir, an’ none taken. But now yer got ter pay up... I want ter know more about yer. Where was yer born?”
“Fair’s fair, Antonius! My home town, alas, is no more. I was born and grew up in Pompeii. My father was a well-to-do merchant there. He, my mother, brother and sister died there twenty years ago when Vesuvius blew up. I would have died there, too, but I was in Ostia visiting my uncle, Quintus Lucullus Mercator. My cousin Livia, Aulus’ wife whom you met in Alexandria, is his daughter. When Vesuvius wiped out the town, he raised me as his own. So Livia Luculla Galba is more my little sister than my cousin.”
“I’m truly sorry, sir.”
“Well, many thousands of people died there. I guess the Fates had something in mind for me. I went back to Pompeii a few years ago. It’s awesome...it simply isn’t there anymore. The main road to town still has a mile marker for Pompeii, but then just disappears into a hill. The hill is all green, everything is grown back, but the town, my family, all my friends, are buried beneath it. Except for the road, you’d never know the town had ever been there. The forum, the theater, the baths, everything. Just... buried.”
The Eagle and the Dragon, a Novel of Rome and China Page 12
