by Paul Howard
115 shook his aching head and moved down the steps. The Briton turned to me. “That is the second fight I have broken up today,” he said. “Much more of this and we will have a mutiny on our hands!” I nodded my agreement with him. He drew his sword and gave it to me.
“Take this,” he said, “Do not move around without it! From now on, the officers had better carry arms at all times!” I took it reluctantly.
“Do you think it has really come to this?” I asked. He smiled, gruffly.
“It does not pay to take any chances,” he replied. “I will go below and bring up some other weapons for the others, just in case.”
I took the helm and he went below to the cargo hold. Two men stood guard at the door. He lit a lamp and ordered them to open it for him. He moved inside. For a few moments, his eyes could see nothing in the darkness. Then, he caught the glimpse of a familiar row of curved lines along the wall. He smiled when he saw them and reached for one of the lines. Picking it up, he was very pleased to see what it was: a longbow!
Not just any longbow but, best of all, a British longbow of the finest Ewe. “You little beauty!” he declared, pulling the string up taught with all his strength and lacing over the end. He plucked it. The air snapped with its recoil. He smiled with approval. For a British fighter nothing could be a more welcome sight.
He moved down the steps to count the bows when his foot landed in water up to his calf. He shined the light in to see the floor of the hold. It was full of water! That was when he noticed the faint, dripping sound to his right. Water was coming in slowly from between the planking of the hull. Antonia was leaking.
He quickly came up top and a baling detail was put to work at once. We hastily checked the other hold and the compartments below. The leak was only in one of them and we were able to get the water out within two hours. One other discovery was made in our search. The gold was gone!
After we had secured the compartment and drained the water, the shipwright from Tyros set about making a temporary repair to the leak. I called for another meeting in my cabin. As we gathered around the table, I placed a soggy piece of caulking in the middle of it.
“Somebody pried this out.” I said. It was obvious to me. The Nubian picked it up and studied it closely.
“This is pitch mixed with toe,” he said, “Is it not possible it could have fallen out in the colder weather?”
“It could,” I said, “But there were also marks where it was pried out.” The Briton nodded his head, he had seen it too.
“Then it is sabotage,” the Nubian said, “What about the women?”
“They have not left the forecastle,” the Briton said, “I have had it watched. You were right about them. It has to be somebody else.”
“But who?” the Greek asked. “The hold has been under twenty-four hour guard!”
“Obviously,” the Briton said, “The same one who took the gold.”
“How could the gold just disappear?” 93 asked. “Why would anyone go to all the trouble and just throw it overboard?”
The Nubian stood up and shook his head, “They did not toss it overboard,” he answered, “We would have heard it!” he moved to the cabinet and pulled out some charts. “There must be a plan of the ship here somewhere,” he said, “There has got to be something we overlooked!”
No sooner had he said this, when a knock came at the cabin door. It opened and the aged shipwright entered. “The seam has been caulked, sir,” he said, “It should hold till we make landfall.” I nodded my approval and thanked him, expecting he would leave, but he did not. He stared at me for a moment and looked at the others in the room, each in turn. He pushed the door closed behind him and moved in closer.
“Perhaps it is not my place to speak, sir…” We assured him he was welcome to do so.
“Very well,” he answered, “I am sure you all know by now, that we have a rat aboard this ship. First the water, and now this!” I offered him a seat but he refused it
“Can you tell us anything about it?” I asked him.
“I do not know who it is,” he said. “But I know how he is doing it! I have been working on every type of galley there is for over forty years. That includes warships. You all know that ships have crawl spaces but large warships have also been known to have secret passages and hidden rooms. Sometimes they are used for escape. Some are used to hide important passengers or valuable cargo. Only the master and a handful of the crew know where these are.”
“Do know where they are on this ship?” I asked.
“Not all of them,” he answered, “But one runs just behind this bulkhead.” he said, pointing at the aft wall of the cabin. “Another runs just above the gallery toward the bow.”
“How do you know this?” the Briton asked.
The old man smiled, “You can learn a lot by just tapping on the walls,” he said, “When one sounds hollow where it shouldn’t be it is fairly easy to guess what is behind it.” We all looked at each other as this sank in. It should have occurred to me but it did not.
“Is there anything else you want to tell us?” I asked.
“No, sir,” he said, “I just thought you ought to know.”
He bowed and I thanked him. Then he left. None of us said anything for a few minutes, each one turning the ramifications over in our heads. The Briton was the first to speak.
“We should tear this ship apart,” he suggested, “We have to find this rat.” The others looked at him concerned but said nothing.
“No,” I finally answered, “That is what he wants us to do. It would panic the men and expose the gold.”
“We cannot afford to let him run loose,” the Nubian snapped back. “He could scuttle us.”
“If this ship goes down,” I said, “He goes down with it, along with the gold.”
I drew my sword and placed it on the table in front of me. “This rat is best dealt with on dry land.” I said. The Nubian looked deep into my eyes.
“You might be right,” he answered, “But there is one problem with that. What if his next move is murder?” I thought about this for a moment.
“That is why I am going to sleep with this at my side,” I said, “We double the watches from now on!” I looked back into the Nubian’s face. “You are sleeping here in this cabin tonight with me. Everybody return to your posts and look sharp! Our rat has done enough damage for one day!”
As the officers set about securing Antonia for the night, I began to search through the late Captain’s papers for a diagram of the ship’s secret holds and passages. I did not find one. As I searched, I came upon the Senatorial Orders again. This time I decided to look them over, hoping to find a clue to our rat. It is a felony to break the seal on such orders but those kinds of considerations did not matter to me anymore. I broke the seal and began to unfurl it when one spool of the scroll fell to the floor. I examined the sheet of scroll in my hand but it was empty! There was no Senatorial Order within.
I looked down at the spool on the floor in front of me. The sight that greeted my eyes was a scroll with an Imperial Seal. I recognized it at once. I picked it up and looked closer. It was a personal letter addressed to General Corbulo in the Emperor’s own handwriting. The Emperor had concealed a personal letter within a fake Senatorial Order. I had never heard of such a thing!
Opening such a letter is treason, but that was of no concern to a traitor like me. I broke the seal and unfurled the letter. What it contained, written in Nero’s childish scrawl, was so shocking that I had to read it over three times just to make sure I was actually reading what it said. I had never imagined anything so nefarious could be written with such cavalier self-indulgence. The more its meaning sank in, the more disturbed and confused I was, for it directly involved the Antonia and the rest of the Septimus ships in a plan so insane that it staggered the imagination!
What made it even worse was that it changed the whole nature of our rebellion into something I had never imagined. I could not see what course of action, if any, w
e should take. I knew that I would have to reveal its contents to my fellows and I knew, just as surely, that I would have to do it in a timely and careful way. If this got out at the wrong moment it could ruin everything.
I re-rolled the letter and put it away under lock and kept the key. I would have to consider this matter carefully, taking things one step at a time. Presently Number 53 joined me as ordered and made a hammock for himself in my cabin. He reported the ship secure, bade me a good night, and put out the light.
I lay in my bunk in the dark, listening to the gentle music of the sea outside. My mind kept turning the problem over and over, searching for a course of action. Normally I would have fallen straight to sleep under such circumstances, but sleep did not come to me all that night.
How does one sleep after just learning that a madman is going to destroy the world?
19
THE CAUSE
At best, I presided over an uneasy alliance of individuals governed by fear of the unknown and a common need for survival. At worst, we were a band of hopeless rabble one step ahead of the cross and ready to tear each other apart for no reason in particular. I seriously doubt that I would be here to tell the tale if we had not sighted land by the end of the next day. Such was the uneasiness aboard our ship. One comfort on that morning was the emergence of the Lady and her servant from the forecastle. Freed of suspicion they were able to move about the ship. I was grateful for that. I was really beginning to like her and could now enjoy her society without a cloud hanging over her.
By early afternoon we sighted the island of Donoussa. It was not exactly as the maps predicted but it was quite adequate. There was a flat, sandy natural port called Stavros by the locals and it was perfect for our purpose. It was a cold and gray day, and the sea was rough. As we sighted the beach my friend and first mate asked if we should send a boat in. I explained my plan to him: Antonia had a wide keel. We could run her in on high tide under oars and let her come to rest, briefly, upon the soft sands. Once we secured her there we could jack her up and keep her in shallow water until we were ready to put out to sea once more. The tide would take us back out. It was an old Belgican trick my father taught me. The hard part was to keep enough water under her keel to keep her from settling in. If she truly beached only a ramp, like that of a harbor-works, could get her out.
Two hours later at high tide we took her in as planned. Everything went according to expectations; the inlet was perfect for our need. There were no rocks for us to fear on approach and once we landed her in the shallows we sent a detail for the inland waters at once. Although much of the island was rocky there was good timber and trails. More than enough for our needs. Just setting their feet on land raised the men’s morale and the general mood was very good. Many of them played like children in the sand. It was like music to hear them laugh and relax once more.
There was far more serious business to be taken into account. We had a rat to sniff out. A thorough search of the ship would have to get underway as soon as we could muster it. But cautiously. Only a handful of us knew the problem at hand. A search would certainly raise questions. We were not yet a crew bound to a common purpose. The hardship of the past few days had to be dispersed. We needed to make the most of the new-found morale.
I decided not to place heavy guard on the holds and passages, suggesting that we let the men unwind first. As there was game on the island a hunting party was organized which proved successful. In only two hours they had slain a pig and several rabbits. This island was sparsely populated with a handful of farmers who made themselves scarce, although it was certain they knew of our presence at once. I instructed the parties to avoid contact and make no attempts to take any livestock they encountered. The wildlife at this tiny port would be scarce and it was obvious that we would have to rely on fish and salted meat from the ship’s stores. As it turned out the fishing in these waters was excellent and we could feast on fresh seafood every day. The Nubian suggested we build a fire and have ourselves a well-deserved feast. It was an excellent idea.
As the fires were being built, Calpurnia came to me and asked if there was anything she could do to help. “We could use a good cook.” I replied. She smiled softly at this request.
“I hope that is not all that you think women are good for!” she cooed.
“Not at all,” I said, “We have been galley slaves for months, and none of us has had a home cooked meal in all that time.” She assured me that both she and her servant were skilled in this area.
As they set to work, the aroma of the meat began to reach me. I had forgotten how great pork smells. The morale of the men rose as the heavenly perfume filled the air. As the last hours of daylight struck the sky with color, it was easy to forget where we were and what had brought us there. The Briton had struck a conversation with Sarah and it continued all through the preparations, as well as the meal. Both of them were smiling and enjoying each other. It was pleasing to see. I had really formed a high regard for him.
As our company gathered into groups around the fire there was plenty to eat and it was tasty. An amphora of wine was produced and soon the air was filled with song and laughter. It was as if none of our experiences had happened. I was amazed at the resilience of my fellows.
It was during this time that Number 93 told us of his journey from China. After his school was burned he returned to his village, but there was no work for him there.
“Except herding goats…” according to him. He joined a caravan to the west and took the Silk Road.
“Over every mountain,” he said, “There was another city. Every one of them was bigger than the last. All people would say to me is: ‘If you think this city is big, you should see Rome!’ I continued west, moving into Italy, until I finally came within sight of it.
“When I arrived I saw a city of scorched ruins. I had come to the Big Place at the Wrong Time. They took one look at me and I was in custody. People who looked suspicious, or did not seem to fit in, were detained and questioned.”
“How did you end up in the galleys?” the Greek asked him.
“I gave the wrong answers!” he said.
We all burst into laughter but it did not last long. Only a few seconds later the alarm was sounded by the guards.
Antonia was on fire!
We rushed onboard and formed hasty brigades. The flames were amidships on the main deck. Fortunately, we were able to put them out within a few minutes before the fire could get below decks.
It could have been much worse. The mainsail was burned, but the mast was undamaged. The roof of the castle was a loss but could be repaired. All in all, the fire proved minor. However, the situation was not. As the Nubian had feared, the rat had resorted to murder, as well as trying to burn the ship. Two of the men posted on guard had been slain. The evidence suggested a sneak attack from behind. Whoever it was used great strength. In our feast we had been caught unawares again.
We searched the holds and found the entrance to a crawlspace. It led to a hidden room behind the kitchen. There was the gold. Why had he deserted it? This question troubled my officers and me. We feared that he had another trick left to play.
He did.
Near the fire Sarah was clearing after the meal. She had just covered what was left of the meat when a large, muscular arm reached out of the darkness, and wrapped itself around her throat. Nobody saw it happen. The fire had been a ruse to draw us away. She disappeared into the darkness. One of her sandals came off of her feet. A drag trail led through the sand toward the southern dunes.
Moments later Calpurnia was the first to notice her absence. We searched for her and found the sandal and the trail. The Lady was not the kind of woman who was prone to tears, but the realization of what had happened to Sarah made her weep. It enraged the Briton. In spite of the dark he organized a search party and began to comb the beach for her. That night, Calpurnia would not leave my side, or my sight. I would not take the chance that she might share the same fate. Besides, she loved he
r servant and needed whatever comfort I could give. I wrapped her in a blanket and held her in my arms, suggesting that she try to get some sleep.
On the face of the southern cliff there was grotto. Surrounded by brush and low woods, it was well away from the beach. I had not spotted it from the ship as we came in. None of us did. Our rat had managed to find it, though. After setting the fire he had captured Sarah and spirited her away struggling and complaining.
She fought to get away from him without success. He struck her so hard that it knocked her unconscious. When she awakened she was lying on the ground in the back of the grotto. Her head pounding from the blow, she could make out the shape of her attacker against the lights from our fires.
He crouched at the entrance, a darkened shape. The blood of the scratches she had made on his arms glistened in the dim light. Regaining some of her strength she tried to sit up slowly. Her hands were bound and, when she tried to sit up, she lost her balance, making a shuffling sound. The shape of her captor turned toward her at last.
“So, you have come to,” he said, with a gruff snarl in his voice. “Make one sound, and I will knock you out again! You make a better hostage alive but I might have to kill you if you make trouble!” He moved closer and stood above her. Sarah looked up at the man she had only seen in silhouette. Her eyes adjusting to the dark, she could dimly make out his face with its unmistakable single round eye glaring down at her. It was Gracchus. In the confusion of battle he had managed to hide himself within the recesses of the ship.
“What good is a hostage going to do you?” she asked. “They will kill you, regardless of what you do to me!” Gracchus grinned and crouched down in front of her.
“I know a lot more than you do,” he declared. “It was me that arranged for the pirates to attack the ship. I am the one who made this situation possible.”
Sarah was puzzled by this statement. She could not quite believe him.
