Conn Iggulden - Emperor 02

by The Death of Kings

  Lucius felt the blood draining from his face as he listened. There was such an intensity in the man's slow movements that he almost took a step back into the arms of his soldiers. He had heard the story when he first arrived, but there was something chilling in listening to the calm voice describe such horrors.

  Mithridates looked at Lucius and his finger pointed at the younger man's chest.

  “Where you are standing is where I knelt, tied and battered, surrounded by a ring of legionaries. I thought they would kill me then, and I invited it. I had heard my family screaming, you see, and I wanted to go with them. It started to rain, I remember, and the ground was sodden. Some of my people say rain is the tears of gods, have you ever heard that? I understood it then.”

  “Please . . .” Lucius whispered, just wanting to ride away and not hear any more.

  Mithridates ignored him or didn't hear him through the memories. At times it seemed as if he had forgotten the Romans were there at all.

  “I saw Sulla arrive and dismount. He wore the whitest toga I have ever seen. You have to remember that everything else was covered in blood and mud and filth. He looked . . . untouched by it all and that . . .” He shook his head slightly. “That was the strangest thing to see. He told me the men who had killed my wife and daughters had been executed, did you know that? He didn't have to hang them, and I didn't understand what he could want from me until he offered me a choice. Live and not raise arms again while he lived, or die at that moment, by his sword. I think if he hadn't said that about the men who killed my girls, I would have chosen death, but I took the chance he gave me. It was the right choice. I was able to see my sons again, at least.”

  Mithridates turned to the two men with him and smiled at them. “Hoca here is the eldest, but Thassus looks more like his mother, I think.”

  Lucius did take a step back as he realized what Mithridates was saying.

  “No! Sulla didn't . . . you can't!” He broke off as men suddenly appeared from every direction. They came over the crest of every hill and walked from the woods where Mithridates had said the Roman archers had hidden. Horses thundered up to halt near the legionaries, who had all drawn their swords, waiting grimly and without panic for the end. Dozens of arrows pointed at them, waiting for the word.

  Lucius grabbed Mithridates' arm in fear.

  “That is past!” he shouted hopelessly. “Please!”

  Mithridates took him by the shoulders and held him fast. His face was twisted in rage.

  “I gave my word not to take arms while Cornelius Sulla lived. Now my wife and daughters are safely in the ground and I will have the blood owed to me!”

  With one hand, he reached behind himself and withdrew a dagger from where it had been concealed. He pressed it against Lucius's throat and pulled the edge across quickly.

  The legionaries died in seconds, impaled on shafts and unable even to return a blow.

  The youngest of his sons nudged Lucius's body with his foot, his face thoughtful.

  “That was a dangerous game, my king,” Thassus said to his father. Mithridates shrugged, wiping blood from his face.

  “There are spirits we love in this place. It was all I could do for them. Now give me a horse and a sword. Our people have been asleep for too long.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Julius sat in the shadows of the drinking house and curled his fingers around the first cup of wine he had seen in nearly a year. The street noise of the Roman port drifted in from outside, and the murmur of conversation all around brought a feeling of home to him, especially if he closed his eyes.

  Pelitas tipped his wine down his throat without ceremony, holding it high until he was sure every drop had come out before putting the vessel back on the wooden table. He sighed appreciatively.

  “I think if I was here on my own, I would sell my armor and drink till I went blind,” he said. “It's been a long time coming.”

  The others nodded, sipping or gulping at their own cups, bought with the last coins they had between them.

  The rest of their men, new and old, were miles away up the coast, well hidden from casual patrols. Only the five of them had come into the port to decide where to go from there. It had been strange to be met and challenged by legionaries as they approached the first warehouses, but for most of the five officers the main feeling had been relief. The months along the coast were made into a distant adventure by the first clear order in Latin to identify themselves. At least the story of being taken by pirates had not caused more than a raised eyebrow as the soldiers took in the clean armor and serviceable weapons they wore. For that alone, their pride made the officers thankful. It would have been unpleasant to arrive as beggars.

  “How long before the quaestor gets here?” Prax asked, looking at Gaditicus. As centurion, it was he who had spoken to the Roman officer in charge of the port, agreeing to meet later at the inn near the docks. It was a small point of tension that they all felt. The other officers had become so used to looking to Julius for the way forward that the reminder of their ranks sat awkwardly with them. Suetonius could barely keep himself from smiling.

  Gaditicus sipped at his wine, grimacing slightly as it stung a sore on his gums.

  “He said by the fourth hour, so we have a little time yet. He will have to send a report back to Rome that we are alive and well. No doubt he will offer us a berth on a merchant ship going that way.”

  He seemed lost in thought like the others, barely able to accept they had come back to civilization. Someone in the crowd brushed against him as he passed behind and Gaditicus stiffened. They had been away from the bustle of towns and ports for a long time.

  “You can take a ship home if you want,” Julius said quietly, looking around the table at the five men. “I'm going on, though.”

  For a moment, no one responded, then Prax spoke. “Including us, we have thirty-eight. How many of those have the skill and discipline to fight, Julius?”

  “With the Accipiter officers, I would say no more than twenty. The rest are what we found, farmers with swords.”

  “Then it can't be done,” Pelitas said gloomily. “Even if we could find Celsus, and the gods know that won't be easy, we don't have enough men to be sure of beating him.”

  Julius snorted angrily. “After everything we have achieved, do you think I'm dropping it all now? Those are our men out in the woods, waiting for the word to start coming in. Do you think we should just leave them and take ship for Rome? No honor in that, Peli, none at all. You go home if you want. I'm not holding any of you here, but if you do go, I will share your ransoms out amongst them when we find and beat Celsus.”

  Pelitas chuckled at the angry words from the younger man. “You think we can do it? Honestly? You got us this far and I'd never have believed that if I hadn't been there to see you handle those settlements. If you say we go on, then I'll see it through.”

  “It can be done,” Julius said firmly. “We need to get on board a merchant ship and take it out to sea. Away from the coast, we'll try to make ourselves as tempting as possible. We know the pirates work this coast; they'll take our bait. At least our men look like Roman legionaries, even if some are poor quality. We can put the good fighters in the front and bluff it through.”

  “I'm staying to the end,” Prax said. “I need my ransom back to enjoy my retirement.”

  Gaditicus nodded in silence, lost in thought. Julius turned to the youngest of the officers and the one he had known the longest.

  “What about you, Suetonius? Are you for home?”

  Suetonius drummed his fingers on the wooden table. He had known this moment would come right from the start and had vowed then that he would take the first chance to go back. Of all of them, his family could easily stand the loss of his ransom, but the thought of returning in failure was a bitter draught. Rome had many young officers and the future did not look as bright as it had when he first stood on the decks of Accipiter. His father had expected quick promotion for his son, and when that hadn
't happened, the senator had simply stopped asking. Now to have him back in the family estate with nothing but defeat in his record would be hard on all of them.

  An idea formed in his mind as they watched him, and he struggled to keep any sign of it from showing. There was a way for him to return to the city in triumph if he was careful. Deliciously, it would involve the destruction of Julius, as well.

  “Suetonius?” Julius repeated.

  “I'm in,” he replied firmly, already planning.

  “Excellent. We need you, Tonius,” Julius replied.

  Suetonius kept his face still, though he seethed inwardly. None of them thought much of him, he knew, but his father would approve of what he was about to do, for the good of Rome.

  “To business, gentlemen,” Julius said, lowering his voice so that it wouldn't carry outside their small group. “One of us will have to go back to the men and tell them to come into the port. The soldiers here seemed to have no problem with the ransom story, so we will have them use that if they are questioned. We must be careful there. It will do us no good if a few are held for the quaestor to examine in the morning. I want to be at sea on the first dawn tide, with all of them on board.”

  “Can't we bring them in at night?” Pelitas asked.

  “We can get past the few legionary guards, but a large group of soldiers boarding a merchant ship will be reported to the pirates. I've no doubt they have spies in this place, reporting which ships are carrying gold and cargoes they want. It's what I would do, and Accipiter put in here before we were attacked. They have the wealth to pay a few bribes, after all. The problem is getting nearly forty men aboard without making the trap obvious. We'll be better off with small groups of two or three at a time, over the whole night.”

  “If you're right, they will have watchers at the docks who will see us,” Gaditicus said quietly.

  Julius thought for a moment. “Then we will split the men. Find out who can swim and have them reach the ship in the water, where we can bring them up on ropes. There is only a crescent moon tonight, so we should be able to do that without being spotted. The armor and swords will have to be carried on board like another package of goods to be sold. It has to be you, Pelitas. You swim like a fish. Can you bring them around the spit as soon as it gets dark?”

  “It's a long swim, but without armor, yes. These boys grew up on the coast, after all. They should be able to make it,” Pelitas replied.

  Julius reached into his belt pouch and withdrew two silver coins.

  “I thought you said the money was gone!” Prax said cheerfully. “I'll have another cup of the same, if you don't mind.”

  Julius shook his head, unsmiling. “Perhaps later. I kept these so a couple of you can come in here tonight and buy a few drinks. I want someone to play the part of a guard on his last night before sailing a valuable cargo—something that will be reported back to the pirates by their contacts. Whoever it is must not get drunk, or killed, so I need someone solid and dependable, perhaps with a few more years under his belt than most of us.”

  “All right, you don't have to beat the point to death,” Prax said, smiling. “I could enjoy a job like that. You up for it, Gadi?”

  The centurion shook his head slightly, looking at Julius. “Not this one. I want to stay with the men in case something goes wrong.”

  “I'll join you,” Suetonius said suddenly.

  Prax raised his eyebrows, then shrugged.

  “If there's no one else,” Suetonius continued, trying not to seem too eager. It would give him the chance he needed away from the others. Prax nodded reluctantly at him and Suetonius sat back, relaxing.

  “I saw you watching the ships as we came in,” Gaditicus prompted Julius. The younger man leaned closer and they all brought their heads forward to hear his words.

  “There was one loading supplies,” he muttered. “The Ventulus. Trireme and sail. A small crew we can take over without too much trouble.”

  “You realize,” Suetonius said, “that if we steal a ship from a Roman port, that makes us pirates as well?” Even as he spoke, he realized it was a mistake to warn them, but part of him couldn't resist the little barb. They would remember later and know who had saved them from Julius's wild schemes. The others froze slightly as they considered the words, and Julius glared at the young watch officer.

  “Only if we're seen. If it matters to you, then pay the captain for his losses out of your share,” he said.

  Gaditicus frowned. “No. He's right. I want it understood that none of the crew will be killed and the cargo will be left untouched. If we are successful, the captain must be paid for his time and lost profits.”

  He locked eyes with Julius and the rest of them could feel the tension between the two men making the silence uncomfortable. The issue of who commanded them had been ignored for so long that they had almost forgotten it, but it was still there and Gaditicus had ruled Accipiter with discipline once. Suetonius fought not to grin at the silent struggle he'd brought about.

  At last, Julius nodded and the tension vanished.

  “Right,” he said. “But one way or another, I want control of that ship by nightfall.”

  A new voice spoke suddenly over them, making them all lean back.

  “Who is the commanding officer here?” it said, unconsciously echoing much of their private thoughts. Julius examined his wine cup.

  “I was the captain of Accipiter,” Gaditicus said in reply, standing up to greet the newcomer. The man was a reminder of Rome even more than the legionaries that guarded the port. He wore a draped toga over bare skin, held by a silver brooch with an eagle etched in the metal. His hair was cut short and the hand he offered Gaditicus had a heavy gold ring on the fourth finger.

  “You look healthier than most of the ransom men we get in this port. My name is Pravitas, the quaestor here. I see your cups are empty and I'm dry myself.”

  He signaled to a serving slave, who came quickly and filled their cups again with a better wine than the first. Obviously, the quaestor was well known in the port town. Julius noticed he had arrived without guards, another sign that the laws of Rome held firm there. He did have a long dagger in his belt, however, which he shifted slightly to allow himself to sit down on the bench with them.

  When the wine was poured, the quaestor held up his cup for a toast. “To Rome, gentlemen.”

  They chorused the words and sipped the wine, unwilling to waste such quality in gulps without knowing if the man would order another.

  “How long were you held?” he said as the cups were brought down again.

  “Six months, we think, though it was hard to keep track of the time. What month is it now?” Gaditicus replied.

  Pravitas raised his eyebrows. “A long time to be held prisoner. It is just after the Kalends of October.”

  Gaditicus worked it out quickly. “We were held for six, but it has taken three months to reach this port.”

  “You must have been dropped far away,” Pravitas said with interest.

  Gaditicus realized that he didn't want to explain how long they had spent training new soldiers to fight and respond to orders, so he just shrugged. “Some of us were injured. We had to take it slowly.”

  “The swords and armor, though? I am surprised the pirates didn't take those,” Pravitas pressed.

  Gaditicus thought of lying, but the quaestor could easily have had the five men locked up if he thought they were hiding something. He appeared to be suspicious already, despite his light tone, so Gaditicus tried to stay close to the truth.

  “We picked these up at a Roman settlement, from an old armory. They made us work for them, but we needed to regain fitness, so it worked out well for us.”

  “Very generous. The swords alone must be worth a fair amount. Which settlement was it, do you know?”

  “Look, sir. The old soldier who let us have them was helping Romans who had fallen on hard times. You should leave it at that.”

  Pravitas leaned back, his face still curi
ous. It was a difficult situation and the five officers watched him closely. Although in theory all Roman citizens in the province were under his authority, he had limited power over soldiers. If he chose to have them arrested without evidence, the local legion commander would be furious.

  “Very well. I will leave you your mystery. Perhaps I should make you prove your right to equipment worth a year's pay, but I imagine you will not be staying here long enough to make me investigate thoroughly?”

  “We intend to take the first ship out,” Gaditicus replied.

  “Make sure you do, gentlemen. Do you need me to arrange passage, or did this ‘old soldier' also give you money for the trip?”

  “We will make our own arrangements, thank you,” Gaditicus said tensely, barely managing to hide his irritation any longer.

  “Then I will take your names for the report to Rome and leave you in peace,” Pravitas replied. They gave them quickly and he repeated each one to fix them in his memory. He stood and inclined his head stiffly.

  “Good luck on the return journey, gentlemen,” he said, before making his way out through the busy inn onto the streets.

  “Suspicious sod,” Pelitas muttered when he had gone. The others murmured agreement.

  “We have to move quickly now. I don't doubt the quaestor will have someone watching us until we are out of his province. It will be a little harder to make the plan work.”

  “Well, it was too easy before,” Prax said. “We needed another challenge.”

  Julius smiled with the others. No matter what happened, they had developed a friendship that would never have come about if they were still on Accipiter.

  “Go quickly back to the men, Peli. If you are followed, I expect you to lose them well before you get close. If you can't get clear, then have the men catch and tie the watchers until the night is over. It won't matter if they are missed tomorrow when we're gone.”