by Paul Howard
“The Septimus Fleet must die!”
20
NERO’S DREAM
It was now time for the thing to make itself clear. I would have to tell all that I knew. Sharing everything with the men, withholding nothing. If my cause was imprudent, I would know. If the gold would cause rebellion, it would happen. I had to risk all now in order for us to survive. If it was in vain time would not matter. The outcome would be the same today or tomorrow.
I knew what I had to do.
I returned to my cabin to get what I would need. I had no idea what I would say, but I was about to get help from the most unlikely quarter.
In the grotto Sarah made good on her promise. She treated Gracchus to pleasures he could not have wished for. Bringing him to plateaus of ecstasy, only to keep it in check. Allowing him to enjoy newer, greater thrills with each ebb and flow of passion. She plied every method she could. Each one intended to enflame his desire to new heights. Each time she took more and more from him. Until at last, his strength almost completely spent, she allowed him to bring his lust to its full climax.
Finally, after over an hour of such pleasure, he moved off of her. His limbs limp with fatigue and gasping for breath, he lay down beside her. That is when she sprang her trap. Grasping a large stone she had selected just for that purpose with both hands, she slammed it into the side of his head with a swift motion. Gracchus, surprised and stunned by this, hesitated for a moment, which allowed her to repeat the blows several times.
She sprang to her feet and rushed for the open space outside, grasping his sword as she went. She began to scream as loud as she could: “Here! He is in here!”
Gracchus, still spent and dizzy from the blows, rose weakly to his feet. His vision blurred and blood running down his face, he charged out of the grotto toward her voice. He was enraged by her trickery and resolved in his mind to kill her for it. Although he could not see her ahead, he followed the trail of the moving brush and grasses, still recoiling from her passing through them.
When he finally heard the rustle of her movements just ahead, he charged with all his strength to catch her. He was greeted by the mighty fist of the Briton, which broke his nose and knocked him on his back. 127 leapt upon the slave-master, furiously venting himself with punches to his body. Finally drawing his sword, he raised it to strike. Gracchus, hardly conscious, closed his eyes in anticipation of the end. But the Briton stopped himself. He looked at Gracchus prostrate on the ground and a new thought came into his mind.
“This would be too easy,” he snapped, “You have a lot to answer for! And, by the Gods, you will!”
He grasped Gracchus’ tunic and pulled him to his feet. Tying his hands and holding the rope so tightly it cut into him, he thrust Gracchus past the others, taking Sarah by the hand.
“Come,” he shouted, “We have another pig that needs roasting!”
It only took a few minutes for him to reach the beach with his captive. Long before they reached me, I could hear the sound of riot all around as the men set eyes upon their former slave-master. It was all that the Briton and his men could do to keep them from tearing him apart. They pushed their way through the crowd until at last, he brought Gracchus before me.
“I have caught our Rat, Captain,” he said, “Although all the credit goes to this lady!” Calpurnia set eyes upon Sarah and the two women rushed into an embrace of tears and welcome.
Gracchus, who had now recovered his senses, glared at me defiantly with that single, round eye. During my imprisonment on Antonia, I had spat a million curses upon him in my heart. Now that he stood before me I could think of none of them. Only an odd sense of satisfaction.
“What have you to say for yourself?” I asked.
“I should have killed you when I had the chance! Get it over with!” he demanded.
The Nubian moved forward with his sword. I had never seen him so angry. I held out my hand and he stopped.
“The men decide what is to be done, not I,” I replied, “You have failed, Gracchus!” He spat on my feet and laughed at this.
“I! Failed?” he chided. “I made you what you are! When you came aboard, you were just a spoiled kid. Now you are like a god to these men! You should thank me! I am the closest thing to a father you have got!”
I moved closer and looked directly into that one eye.
“You failed,” I said, “Because of you all of this has happened! It did not quite turn out the way you planned, did it? As for the rest. I already have a father and you are not fit to speak of him!”
Gracchus chuckled. “Really?” he sneered. “We will see about that!” He turned to the men and screamed aloud, “Has he told you about the gold? Or is he still holding out on you? Him and his tiny click of friends. They will use you to get away! Do you think they are planning to share it with you?”
This statement caused the result he desired among the men. Their expressions changed quite suddenly. Fortunately I anticipated this maneuver and spoke softly.
“I do thank you Gracchus, for saving me the trouble of having to tell them why you betrayed us to the pirates!” I smiled with genuine amusement.
“He wanted the gold for himself, so he arranged for the pirates to attack the ship. But something happened that he did not plan on: us!” The men erupted into mocking laughter, for our rebellion was the one thing he hadn’t figured on. I held up my hand again.
“Do you want to know how much gold there is?” I declared. “Enough to make you all rich men. Enough for you to go and do whatever you want! Ten thousand sesterces, in gold, for each of you!”
A cheer rose from the men, they began to hug and dance with each other. After I let them celebrate a little I raised my hand again. “You can take it now if you want,” I continued, “Or we can make for a port and split it among ourselves there. You can go with your fortunes and enjoy the few months that are left before the end comes!”
This quieted the men. They could not see what I was driving at.
“The end,” I continued, “Of your lives, your fortune, your freedom, even the world that you know. The death of all your families, your friends and you! And it will surely come. For there is a card in the game that even Captain Urbano and Gracchus here knew nothing of!” I reached into my tunic and produced the Emperor’s letter for all to see.
“This letter is in Nero’s own hand,” I said. “You may read it for yourselves. It explains our presence here! Our mission and the existence of the Septimus Fleet itself. A secret known only to the Emperor, a few senators, and General Corbulo.
“You may know that Corbulo is in command of the legions engaged in the Armenian War. What you do not know is that his presence there is only a ruse to conceal his true relationship with the Emperor! Nero has a plan. It is not enough to command the Empire of Rome. Nor to collect tribute from the provinces. Nothing is enough for Nero.
“In this letter, he explains his intention to change Rome into the New Empire of Nero. He brags on how he has achieved the first step of his plan by burning the City of Rome to make way for The New City of Nero! When the time is right he will call upon his trusted Corbulo to lead his legions against the Roman world. To raid the provinces and burn away the Old Order with his new instrument: a fleet of sixteen thousand super warships. The Septimus Class!
“Even now, he watches and waits to see if the test fleet of seventeen will live up to the purpose for which they were designed. To repel any enemy, out-race any ship. An irresistible weapon to subjugate and destroy the world, so that he can rebuild it in his own image! The New World of Nero. You should read what he has to say about the Greeks, the Egyptians and his plans for them. It is very illuminating. No city is to be spared. No people are to be shown mercy. In his own words, he explains how the rivers and coastlines of the whole world are to be drenched in blood! The Old World will be reduced to ashes!
“So now you know what I mean when I speak of ‘the end’! Even now he is making plans to commission the construction of the new fleet. A fle
et of ships, like that one, that will destroy your homes and families. Now you know what the gold is for! A war to end all wars that will make Carthage look like child’s play. This is the Emperor’s Mad Plan: the death of the whole Roman World!”
I stopped speaking to let the men absorb the meaning of my words. Many simply stood with mouths agape. A few wept. I turned to my Nubian friend. He was shaking with anger. Calpurnia said nothing as the tears rolled down her cheeks.
A good fisherman knows when it is time to be patient. I had thrown out my net; now all I could do is wait for a bite. If it was there, it would come. If not, I would have to try something else. After all, what could three hundred do against the Empire? I was fishing for a plan and had nothing more to add. My words hung in the air like a sinister cloud. 121 Secundus spoke first.
“What can we do?” he asked. “We are condemned men, with only one ship! We are no match for Rome!”
Many others agreed with this sentiment. It was only natural.
88 said, “Give me the gold now! The hell with the World!” This provoked the Nubian to speak.
“And where would you go?” he asked. “If the countryside is on fire, you will burn with it, no matter how much money you have!”
“We are only three hundred,” the Briton said, “How can we stop the Emperor?”
Gracchus eyed me again and muttered: “You are a fool!” to me.
“The way to defeat the Emperor,” 17 said, over the growing objection, “Is to defeat his plan! You do not have to destroy the Roman Empire to do that, only the Septimus Fleet. If the fleet fails he will have to abandon his plan!” This quieted the men a little, but it was not long before 36 Secundus spoke up.
“Sixteen ships?” he sneered. “What can one do against sixteen…and the Agrippa?”
“Antonia is fastest of them all,” the shipwright replied, “And we have the new weapon that 93 showed us…”
The Briton spoke again, “What good is a little powder going to be against an entire fleet of sixteen? It does not make sense!” I nodded my agreement.
“I agree,” I answered, “That is why I bring the issue before you all. What should we do? Do we take the gold? Do we run away and hide? You shall have to decide this for yourselves. It will take us at least two weeks to repair the damage to the ship anyway. We do not have to decide this now. I will abide by whatever course you decide upon. I am open to any suggestions you may have. In the meantime, we will continue with our training.”
The Briton came forward and drew his sword. He pointed at Gracchus.
“What about him?” he asked. “What should we do?” This was immediately greeted by shouts and curses. The majority wanted to kill him. Gracchus straightened up and resumed his defiance.
“As I said,” he declared, “You are no better than you were as slaves! Kill me and get it over with!”
I looked him in the eye once more.
“You are not giving any more orders around here,” I said. “I am not going to kill you. I leave that decision to the one who deserves it.” I turned toward Sarah. My senses told me what he had done to her. It seemed only fair that he should answer to her for this violation. She stepped forward and stared at him coldly. After a moment, she spat in his face. This drew cheers from the men.
“Let him live!” she said, the men began to voice their objections. She raised her voice to out-shout them. “Let him live to see the defeat of his plans,” she said. “Let him live and watch you all go free with the gold he betrayed the Romans and all of us for. Bind him like a slave. Make him suffer as you all have!”
The Nubian nodded his head in agreement.
“So be it,” I said, “Chain him to the gallery floor and keep him watched!” I leaned in close to him and smiled.
“I hope you like being pissed on, Gracchus! Take him away!”
21
A NAVY OF ONE
I moved back to my cabin aboard the ship. I had said my piece and felt it was time to be silent. Although I spent many years learning my trade on my father’s boats, the best lessons were the ones I got from him when we were alone together. Many were the days he would take me out on a single dinghy and teach me the wisdom of his fisherman forefathers. One lesson I remember well: “Although the sea is filled with bounty,” he said, “It is always just below the surface, where you cannot see it. You can learn the signs, this means cod, or that means tuna. Still, you must cast your line and wait. Neptune will decide, as he does all things, whether you will bring it in. You cannot force the fish into your net, they must come by themselves. It takes more than skill to catch the fish. It takes patience. The fish must do his work before you can do yours!”
Now I had become a fisher of men. The bait was out there. I had only to wait and see what was really in their hearts. I allowed myself to think this thought as I returned to my cabin but I did not really believe it. My experience had taught me that men are greedy and frightened. This is the Gospel According to Rome. I kept a sword at my side. I imagined that it would not be long before the gold would weave its wicked spell among my fellows.
On the beach behind me, Number 17 and the Chinese sat quietly. I do not think they heard the sound of the drills or the calls of the Nubian. For such men can immerse themselves in thought completely. They sat thus for almost an hour before their eyes met. Each of them surprised to see the other and brimming with the urge to share what was in their thoughts. A conclave of the two of them began. Speaking in soft tones to each other, they walked along the beach and moved over the ridge. Into the gorge on the other side of it. What they discussed or how they came to their conclusions, nobody can say. We did not see them again until long after the sun went down.
In spite of the new prospect of wealth there was neither song nor revelry at the fire on that second evening. It seemed as if each man had become an island unto himself. Many had a look in their eyes that neither bore understanding nor inquiry, as if they were miles away. The Nubian and the Briton, my two most trusted advisors, watched the men with concern. They were as unsure of the meaning of this as I. The meal went without conversation. Only the crackle of the fire could be heard.
As I returned to my bunk that night there was an odd feeling all around me. Had I said enough, or had I said too much? Or was it something else entirely? Perhaps our voyage was at its end and Gracchus was right after all. I began to wonder if I would live out the night. The state of the men’s minds was a mystery.
I lay down in my bunk as these opposing ideas pulled upon me. The minutes seemed like hours. Soon, a knock came to my door. I sat up, expecting the worst. “It did not take long!” I thought, as I moved to the chair, placing the sword across the table in front of me.
“Come!” I demanded.
The door opened slowly, I was greeted by the faces of Numbers 17 and 93. The Greek and the Chinese. The Greek moved in first, his expression was very serious. He bowed politely and the Chinese followed him. He looked at the sword on the table in front of me as if unsure what to make of it. The Greek broke the silence.
“We have been discussing the problem, Captain,” he said, “We might have a solution.”
“Sit down.” I said, gesturing to the chairs across from me. They sat down and crossed their arms in front of them, staring at me expectantly. The Greek held a large scroll in his hands. The only thing I could formulate was another question. “What problem are you talking about?” I asked. They looked sidelong at each other and grinned.
“Our problem,” the Greek replied, “You left the issue hanging in the air out there!”
“Oh, that problem!” I exclaimed naively.
“We may have an answer,” 93 said, “You want to destroy the fleet!”
“The entire Septimus fleet?” I asked. “With only one ship?”
“One ship could be enough.” the Greek said with a twinkle in his eyes. “Up to now, ships have only been used in battle to deliver men against each other. There is a good reason for this. The weapons of naval warfare are crude an
d inaccurate. Catapults, ballisters and projectile weapons are unstable, have an unpredictable range and, at best, require an element of chance.”
“They are a little better than that!” I said.
“But not by much! The best way to use a ship in war is to deliver weapons of destruction upon the enemy,” the Greek replied, “Instead of using our ship as a vehicle to deliver men, we propose to use it as floating platform.”
“For what?” I asked. The concept was foreign to me. The Chinese spoke.
“In my country, we have weapons called ‘rockets’,” he said, “They are filled with black powder and fly through the air.”
I was flabbergasted. They were not thinking of rockets! I asked, “What kind of damage do they do?”
“No real damage,” he said, “They make a lot of noise and sparks designed to frighten the enemy.” I shook my head and sighed.
“It will not do any good to frighten the Romans,” I replied, “The only way to make any difference would be to sink them!”
“We want to do more than frighten them!” the Greek said. He unrolled the scroll on the table in front of me. It contained a drawing of a new design. It looked like a tube that was closed at one end. It was covered with numbers and figures I did not understand.
“The Chinese placed the propellant charge inside of the rocket,” the Greek explained, “All of the powder was used in flight. That is not efficient for war, where the objective must be to destroy the enemy’s ability to fight back. Our idea is to put the propellant in a fixed launcher, placing a powder charge in the projectile itself, which will explode on contact with the enemy ships.”
I looked at them incredulously. “You can build a thing like that?” I asked. They both nodded their heads seriously.
