“Murdered? How?” asked Antonius.
“The bastard Domitian! Titus Flavius blood-sucking Domitian accused Commodus of treason during his reign of terror, inciting the students against him. As if we were any threat!”
Gaius wiped at his eyes, and choked a bit, then continued. “He taught us how to live like men, and he taught us how to die like men. The Praetorian Guards burst in while he was lecturing his students. They charged him with sedition and treason... the standard charge then. Who knows where it came from, or if it came from anybody at all.” Gaius sighed, “Commodus listened to their charges, then dressed them down like errant cadets. Their swords were dull and nicked, not held properly, armor not properly secured. Commodus could find something wrong with Julius Caesar! They didn’t know what to make of that! He made sure that there were no charges against his students and dismissed them all home, with a big blonde German that he had captured in battle to escort them.” He paused, swallowing hard to choke his tears to a halt. “And... he... went upstairs... and drew his bath... and read his Plato... about the death of Socrates.... and opened his veins!”
There was no other way to deal with an accusation of treason during the Emperor Domitian’s reign of terror. To be accused was to be found guilty, and Commodus had fought too many fights on the Empire’s frontiers to be found guilty and executed in disgrace. No, better to open the veins in the bath, and not have all of one’s estate forfeit to the Emperor.
Antonius patted his shoulder, and Gaius returned the helm to the campaign chest. “His faith was well-placed, sir. Yer’ve done him proud.”
Gaius secured the lid and shoved the chest beneath the lower bunk. He wiped at his eyes and stood up. “Sorry, Antonius, didn’t mean to let my emotions rise up like that. But if I had lost that gear... it means a lot to me.”
“I understand, sir. Whyn’t yer take the lower bunk, an’ I’ll take the upper?” He slid his own campaign chest under the lower bunk as well.
The ship’s carpenters’ hammered and sawed, replacing the damaged fittings and railings. Gaius returned, for lack of anything else to do, to assisting the navigators, engaged in a long argument over their position. They knew their latitude from the sun and Polaris, but they did not know whether the storm had carried them east or west, or how far. The precise mathematics provided Gaius an escape from the decisions that he faced but couldn’t make.
Later that afternoon, after tossing a log over side with a knotted rope, and counting the knots against a water clock to determine speed, he took a break to lean against the rail and take in the beauty of the blue sea which stretched unbroken to the horizon, unimpeded by haze. The ship was under full sail, leaning to port by perhaps twenty degrees. Occasionally a bevy of green flying fish would break from the crest of their bow wave, their fin-wings working furiously, buzzing like locusts while they spanned the fifty or hundred feet to the next wave, till they dropped into a glide to disappear into the water with a plop. Gaius had never seen such creatures before, and he watched, trying to anticipate when next they would emerge, when Ibrahim came to stand by him.
“Ah, today, the sea is so still and beautiful, it is hard to believe that only two days ago, we were fighting for our lives against her, Gaius. The sea can make all men brothers, even Romans and Arabs.”
“But can she can make brothers of the lawful and the lawless?” asked Gaius, spitting.
“One must ask then whose law... the law of man, the law of Rome, or the law of God?” Ibrahim was sparring with him again.
“The law that says you don’t take what doesn’t belong to you.”
“Perhaps you can explain to me how the Romans came to such power without taking from others. But I didn’t come here to bait the good Gaius Lucullus, but to admire the open sea with him. And actually, I admire Rome.” Ibrahim leaned forward, his elbows on the railing.
“So tell me, Ibrahim bin Yusuf, how did a desert Bedouin come to be a man of the sea?”
“Well, in our culture, all advantage goes to the first-born son. And I, as the fifth, was far removed from that. My father was a sheep-herder, and we traveled as nomads through the desert, not unlike traveling at sea. You learn the weather and the stars, and you learn to plan your next move carefully, for neither the sea nor the sand will forgive a mistake.
“When I was about twelve, my brother and I took some sheep into Jiddah to sell. Jiddah is one of the few seaports on that side of the Red Sea, with ships and boats of all kind there. Eve, the mother of all men, is buried there. And in the streets, so many different races of men, and so many languages. My brother kept yelling at me to pay attention, but all I could think of were those ships, their beautiful white sails full, leaving port. At last, I broke away and ran down to the waterfront, telling him to be sure to get his money’s worth for the sheep. I gave him the slip, and one of the small boats took me on as crew.”
“I knocked around the Red Sea for a while, then when I was fifteen we went up to Egypt. I went over to the Canopic Nile, and from there to Alexandria. There I fell in with the Mediterranean ships.”
Gaius smiled, “And you turned pirate at twenty.”
“That’s right.”
Another bevy of flying fish burst from the waves.
“May I ask you a favor?” continued Ibrahim.
“Certainly.”
“Could your good centurion resume training the crew in swordsmanship?”
Ibrahim had asked the question in all seriousness. Gaius stared dumb-founded, then laughed. “Surely you jest! Train them to do what? To take yet another prize on the sea? Are you trying to turn us into pirates?”
“Perhaps. But that later. Seriously, I shall be continuing the journey as planned. I have spoken with the navigators, and they have agreed to continue in order to complete their survey of these waters. And I bribed them with a toy.” Gaius pondered the remark, recalling the lodestone “pointing needle” that they had shown him just this morning. “We’ll be heading into unknown waters after we leave Taprobane. We ourselves will be prey to whomever lurks in those waters. Antonius has done a magnificent job of forging the crew into a first-rate fighting force. Had they been able to arm themselves, I could not have taken the ship.”
“Well, it seems then that they are sufficiently well-trained for your defensive purposes.”
“A knife unsharpened quickly loses its edge.” Ibrahim turned to leave. “Please consider my offer, and join me in my cabin for dinner tonight.” The Arab left, as silently as he had arrived, his white robes swirling in the stiff breeze.
Gaius returned to the rail to ponder the offer. What was the Arab’s motive in this bizarre request? How did he benefit from Antonius continuing to train his crew? Obviously, he gained a well-trained crew, but he ran the serious risk of the two Romans turning that well-trained crew against him. Ibrahim had made the point repeatedly that the crew was not involved, only the officers. They only follow those who lead, he had said. And if Antonius leads, then they can be made to follow. A mutiny could be launched, but then what? Neither Antonius nor Gaius could sail this ship, nor could the crew, who sailed the ship under orders of the officers they would have to overthrow. The problem was aggravatingly interlocked, an Oriental Gordian knot that defied Roman logic. So why did Ibrahim want Antonius to resume training the crew?
Gaius wandered forward, where he found Antonius in company with Galosga. Those two had become inseparable.
“An’ g’morn’, sir. It’s a beautiful day terday. Galosga! Say hello to Gaius fer me.”
The bronze-skinned man smiled shyly, and said softly, “Vale, dom’ne.”
“And vale tibi, Galosga! That’s very good. You’ll be giving speeches before the Senate itself if your teacher of rhetoric keeps on with you!” Gaius clapped the man on the shoulder. “Antonius, Ibrahim wants you to resume training the crew.”
“What the hell does he want ter do that fer? Is he invitin’ me ter stir up a mutiny fer him? I’d be glad ter oblige him!”
“That’s
what I thought. Why the hell...” Gaius stopped. “Of course! I think you just put yer finger very close to the problem!”
“I did? How’d I do that?”
“He is inviting us to stir up a mutiny against him. We are an unknown quantity to him right now, and he is giving us the opportunity for trouble, in an area that he can control closely. He probably will have several of his own trusted spies in the crew with you. And he will know the instant you even hint of action against him. Because right now, you and I wander the ship, and he doesn’t know with whom we meet or talk.”
“So he’s better off givin’ me the opportunity ter start trouble under his nose, an’ then it’s back in chains again for both of us.”
Gaius nodded. “Or worse.”
“So when do I start me mutiny, sir?” laughed Antonius, resting his big hairy arms along the rail.
“You don’t. Even if we could take this ship, we couldn’t sail it, and all of the officers are his men. No, let’s give him what he wants, which is a chance to observe. And you be extremely careful about what you say. Our necks are in the balance.”
“Arrgh, Gaius, if’n yer don’t mind me getting’ personal an’ all, yer know I’m the very soul of discretion! An’ anyway, I hate ships!”
“Good. And continue calling me Gaius. Our stations in life count for nothing from here on. And be ready for dinner tonight. We’ve been invited to his cabin. Let’s do it up right, dress armor, and show him two Roman soldiers!”
Dinner came, and the centurion and legate were the spitting image of the vires militares, military men, decked out in their finest parade kit. The crew looked at them in a mixture of awe, fear and disgust as the two strode in step, head erect, eyes neither right nor left, to the master’s cabin. Antonius knocked at the door and announced in his finest Latin, “Gaius Lucullus, legatus of the Legio XII Fulminata! We send greetings from Trajan, Imperator Senatus Consulto, on business of the Senate and the People of Rome!” He did this in his best parade ground voice, so that every head on deck turned to watch. Ibrahim opened the door and admitted them. The late afternoon sun streamed through the cabin windows.
“Welcome,” he said, bowing and making a little motion with his hand from his face, to his lips and chest. “You make a good entry. Nothing like a uniform to make you formal. You’ll pardon my Greek, but my Latin is not up to your centurion’s high standards.” Still sparring.
The meal, one of the drowned goats and some figs and wine, was set on a low table on the floor, surrounded with pillows for seats. “Please join me in my humble fare. Though I left the desert forty-five years ago, I am a Bedouin at heart and still prefer to eat like one. We dined at table last night. Some wine?”
Tonight Antonius accepted the cup and sat cross-legged on the cushion. The wine was some of the captain’s stock, a good Judean vintage.
“Please dine. And to acquaint you with our customs, please wash, and use only the right hand. In our country, we place a high value on cleanliness. The left hand is unclean, and not to be used at dinner. It is our custom.” He dipped his hands in a water bowl and passed it with small hand towels to the two solders.
The goat was good, well-roasted. “We shall not be eating well by the end of the trip, I fear. And I make a point to never eat better than my men. They bear their hardships better when they know that they are shared.”
“So it is in the field,” answered Gaius. “The good leader cannot lead in luxury, while his troops suffer from cold, hunger and the weather.”
“So it is. You Romans, for all your faults, are great leaders, some of you. I wish all were half as good as the best, and you would rule the world.”
“Thank you. I will admit, however, that some of our leaders are the worst. Many of us long for the old republic, when our horizons were smaller but our people bigger.”
“Perhaps. I know only the Rome of today. But there is more to be admired there than despised. But on to our task at hand. You know, Gaius, from the navigators that we may be at sea for twenty-five days. Maybe longer. And we lost our goats. We will be very hungry before we make landfall.”
“Galosga may help there,” said Antonius.
“Galosga? Oh, yes, that strange fellow. Where is he from?”
“West somewhere, way west. I can’t make heads or tails of his language, but he has a little Aramaic. He has a way to smoke meat. It’s tough, the way he prepares it, but it will keep a long time. He’s got lots prepared already. Trouble is, everyone wants to eat all the goats now.”
Ibrahim stroked his beard. “I will talk to Demetrios about him. If he can prepare some meat and we ration it, and get lucky with some fish, we may make it to Taprobane. Water, well, we will have to pray for rain, and ration what we have carefully. I am afraid that we will be a hungry smelly lot when we make landfall. Now you wonder why I extended my offer to Antonius to resume training for the crew,” he said, abruptly changing the subject.
“I have some theories,” said Gaius, while he gently restrained Antonius’ left hand from reaching into the goat meat for a second serving. “I think you want to keep us under observation, so we don’t stir up a mutiny.”
“Or help put one down,” replied Ibrahim. “It doesn’t take much to stir up a crew on a long, dangerous journey. A mutiny at sea is a bloody thing, and on this trip would be fatal for everyone. The ship would almost certainly be lost, and the mutineers would die of hunger and thirst not long after they killed us. These men are strong and brave, and in their own way loyal, but if panic takes them, all will be lost.”
“So now you do want our help in your piracy!” Antonius exploded. “Didn’t I tell you, Gaius, that next he would be recruiting us into his efforts?”
Gaius was unmoved. “So how would we, two Roman soldiers, the two most hated people on the ship, help forestall a mutiny by two hundred sailors? I appreciate your high opinion of us, but even Roman authority has its limits.”
“As I said, they follow who leads. And it is most important, at times like this, to not allow the crew to be idle. You would be my eyes and ears, helping me to spot trouble.”
Gaius shrugged. “I do not want to risk Antonius’ life in this regard. If trouble comes, it may focus on him first as the hard taskmaster. They could overwhelm him by sheer numbers.”
“By not doing this, you may be risking his life more. We are going into unknown waters. Piracy is not confined to the Mediterranean and Red Seas. There I am protected, for I have a reputation. I have a rather formidable organization to defend me, and avenge me if necessary. There are very few competitors there that would continue an attack if I deployed my personal flag. Here, I am unknown, and the predator could easily become prey. This is a large ship, and large ships carry valuable cargo. But I have another reason, as well.”
“Let’s hear it,” grunted Antonius.
“You’ll get very bored over the next three weeks,” smiled Ibrahim.
Antonius laughed. “Well, that’s one of the better ones!”
Gaius’ position was unmoved. “Ibrahim, I appreciate your situation, but it is one of your own creation. I cannot allow my centurion to participate in this effort without involving myself in the perfidy you have committed against my cousin, and against the Emperor. This ship, itself a valuable treasure, and the gold and silver in the hold, is not a fortune belonging to some abstract Roman treasury. A large part of this was funded by my cousin, and if he lives, he will lose not only all of his personal fortune, but his personal dignitas, his reputation, as well. He and his family will be bankrupt, thrown into abject poverty and exiled. The rest is money provided by the Roman people. Thousands of people will be impoverished by this action. If I were to assist you, then not only would I help you bankrupt my cousin, but if I lived, I would be tried for treason and my life would be forfeit. I would prefer to die with honor, against your hypothetical mutiny, or even leading it. After all, I am mastering the navigation of this ship. India is pretty big, and between the North Star and your lodestone, I think I could f
ind it.”
“Always the proper Roman, Gaius Lucullus.”
“My ancestor was a powerful general in Caesar’s time. It runs in the family.”
“So what can I do to change your mind?”
Gaius leaned back and considered how to pitch this. “Well, it seems you have stolen more gold than you can swim with when you chose to keep the ship.” He paused to let this sink in, observing Ibrahim’s reaction. “You wanted out of the business, you said, and a chance to end your life doing simple things, like raising a family. Right?”
“That is my goal.”
“You can’t do that back west. If the Roman army and navy don’t hunt you down, your patrons will, for double-crossing them. And going east, this ship will become a millstone about your neck, as you try to defend it in increasingly unknown and unfriendly waters. A millstone that will eventually drag you down and drown you. Right?”
“I will, for the moment, accept your premise.”
“Now, as you know, we are traveling under Imperial orders to the land of the Hanae. And we have a letter, which I can’t read, from the Hanaen Emperor extending us protection in his waters and entry to his ports. Which I am sure you’re not aware of, unless you can read the peculiar Hanaean script. Marcus and Marcia can.”
Ibrahim sat up with interest as Gaius continued. “Now I cannot let you get away with the ship and its gold. I could be criticized severely for letting you get away, but there is really little I could do about it. But if this ship winds up at its destination, and some of the money sticks to your fingers as ransom, well… Rome understands ransom. I continue the mission, the gold goes to the Hanaean emperor, and the ship is impounded there till we leave. And you get off with enough gold to find that little wife in the land of the Han and raise a bunch of little almond-eyed Bedouins. You may only get a fraction of the whole amount, but you don’t have to split it with your patrons, either. And take Demetrios with you. He’s not taking the ship back, because out of my sight or yours, he’ll throw the bargain to the winds.”
The Eagle and the Dragon, a Novel of Rome and China Page 18
