by Paul Howard
“The new weapons we are carrying have never been tested or proven in an actual sea battle. There is the possibility that they would perform differently than we anticipate or not work at all on the open sea. In war, you must always assume that the worst can happen and probably will. We must be prepared for that possibility and its consequences. You all know what those are. We are slaves in rebellion and mutineers in the most flagrant manner possible. I can easily imagine these beams and yards decorated with our bodies from one end of this ship to the other. You should consider this too.
“The one thing any of us can never afford to do is forget just how dire the possibilities are if we attempt this undertaking. There is every probability that we will die if we try to fight the fleet. If you decide to go you do so knowing that you are dead men. Of course, the minute you accept this, you have a great advantage. Because the enemy still regards himself as alive and will be very surprised when you prove him wrong!
“We have come so far. We have achieved amazing things already. No one would think less of anybody who thinks that turning south is the best course for us. Any other brave men upon the sea would find reason in such a view. It is reasonable. Maybe our best hope in going west lies in the notion that what we are considering is so utterly insane that no one could possibly even think of doing it.
“It has been the greatest honor I will ever know to sail with all of you. Whatever choice you make will have my complete support. My regard for you is such that I could hardly do otherwise. Take as much time as you need to talk among yourselves. But we must decide this now and we must be certain of our choice with all of our hearts and minds.
“I now leave it to you. What is your answer?”
The ship was engulfed in complete silence. Just like those happier days when I would sail my small boat, there was no sound at all except the wind in my ears and the beating of my own heart. It seemed almost eternal. No man wanting to be the first to speak. They looked at each other wordlessly. Some were in tears. The old shipwright stood at the railing, looking out across the sea, his face more somber than I had ever seen it before. Just when it seemed that the silence would never end, 36 Secundus spoke.
“What have we come all this way for?” he asked.
“We have hardly begun” said 10 Primus.
“That is true,” 36 answered, “But we are condemned men. Our lives are behind us! If we must die, let us do it as men!”
“Take on the fleet?” asked another, “He is right about our chances.”
“He is also right about the weapons,” added the Greek, “They have not been tested at sea!”
“Is there a way we can test them?” asked 53.
“Not at flank speed,” said the Greek, “And even if we did, there would be no way to simulate actual combat conditions. Those kinds of tests could take years.”
“We do not have months,” said 127, “There is only one real question before us: do we flee or do we fight?” He looked right into the eyes of 53, who scanned the faces of the men.
“Fight!” he snapped. 127 set his jaw and nodded his head in agreement.
“Fight!” he replied.
They looked at the inventors. The Greek pursed his lips and the Chinese eyes flashed in excitement. “Fight!” they said in turn. 127 looked over his shoulders and grinned. “What do you say lads?” he asked. “Do we pull up and have a go? It would be a hell of a war!” The archers exploded in cheers. Some raised their fists.
“Fight!”
“Fight”
“FIGHT!”
The chant grew until the ship shook with the sound.
As I witnessed the overwhelming spectacle of their courage, I could feel only humility. I did not expect such commitment. With the humility came a sense of sorrow. I had never felt such love and kinship with any men such as I felt at that moment. And I knew they would just as surely die with me. The shipwright began to weep. I knew what he was feeling. I felt it too.
To see such men face death so bravely is both beautiful and terrible at the same time. A lump grew in my throat. I could not speak at all. Just as surely as I knew we were going to die, my heart filled with the determination to keep these men alive. Even though I had no idea how that could be possible. Antonia’s fate was now in the hands of the gods. And I did not even believe in them.
25
OPEN SEA
With the business of our meeting concluded the men resumed their posts and the training assignments were given over to the officers. I also made a new change in assignment for 36 Secundus who seemed to have the habit of saying and doing the right things when needed. The task of security for the ship below decks and protection of the armory was in important one. I felt he was a good choice for the job. He was reluctant to accept it at first, declaring that he had been a drover back in the real world, and somebody else would probably make a better choice.
I reminded him that we were all somebody else before our life on Antonia began and that I had confidence that he could do it. He finally agreed and I gave him leave to make his own guard assignments among those who were not engaged elsewhere. Below decks the task of finding a new Hortator was underway. Every few minutes we would hear the rhythm of one man, then another, trying his hand at delivering a clear, steady rhythm. This continued well into the afternoon.
At midday on the bridge we made our sightings and confirmed our course. Then came the first of my training sessions with the officers. I finally took the time to go below and seek out Calpurnia. I wondered why she had not come to the meeting. She was in the kitchen, oiling cloth for the Greek. Sarah was there too, cleaning up. After a brief greeting she smiled at me without a word.
“You heard about the decision?” I asked.
“Yes.” Calpurnia replied.
“Why did you not come?” I asked.
She stopped work and turned toward me, her smock was stained with linseed. It was the first time I had ever seen her in soiled clothing of any kind.
“There was no need,” she answered, “I knew what the answer would be and I could hear everything from here. Are you upset at me for that?” I played with the edge of the cloth; the oil came off onto my fingers.
“No,” I said, “But it was one of my best performances in oratory.” I grinned jokingly. She smiled.
“Your oratory,” she said, “Is always wonderful. I have thought so since you addressed the men on the forecastle.” I was shocked.
“You heard that?” I asked. My jaw dropped. This amused her even more.
“Yes. I did.” she replied.
“Then, why did you hold me off with the sword?” I gasped. She thought for a moment before she answered. “I do not know,” she said, “Maybe I was not sure, or perhaps, I was just frightened.”
“No more than me!” I said.
She moved closer to me until we almost touched. “I was not frightened after you came in,” she said softly, “I can still see you standing there, almost naked. Even in rags you looked like a leader. I knew I could believe you then. Except when Sarah was missing, I have not been afraid since. I knew the men would follow you when you spoke to them today.” Our faces were now very close to each other. “Do you have any other questions, my lord?” she asked.
“You mean about Gracchus?” I asked. She looked at me seriously and nodded her head.
“No. I have no questions, except to ask how you feel.”
“Oily!” she replied and we both began to laugh. She took my hand and wiped it with a cloth. I told her I had much to do and I would see her in the evening. She kissed my hand, softly. No sooner had she done this when Sarah appeared once again as if on cue. I moved out of the kitchen and up to my cabin, the steady banging from below continued. It was strange how I had become unaware of it when I was speaking to her.
I spent the better portion of the afternoon pouring over the ship’s charts, trying to find a way to circumvent the trade routes. It seemed hopeless. The Mediterranean coastlines were honeycombed with shipping routes from all
over the world and our course would take us right through the very heart of them.
The other challenge was trying to figure out how to shave precious days off of our course. This seemed even more impossible. The distant drumming began to work against my powers of concentration.
There was not any way to avoid the coastal routes, no matter how much I tried. To move beyond the sight of coastal waters would surely be our undoing. There simply was no way to navigate across the open sea on a run as long as this. There were north to south crossings but these routes were clearly defined and frequently used. Long had I heard the stories of those hearty mariners who braved the sea and charted these open routes. Many set out and never returned. Only the most experienced seamen dared to attempt the crossing routes and were very well paid for their efforts.
Frustrated and bleary eyed I took some wine and pondered the problem for another hour. The drumming had finally ceased. A thought finally occurred to me.
As I went out onto the open deck the air was cool and the ship seemed quite peaceful. The Nubian was on the bridge and he came down to greet me as I approached.
“All is well, Captain,” he said, “The Hortator trials have been a success.”
“Who is it?” I asked.
“Number 10 Primus has been selected.” he replied.
The young man who had served as cabin boy was now to be our new Hortator. I was pleased to hear it. “Do you agree with the choice?” I asked.
“Yes, I do,” he said, “He has a good steady beat and the stamina of youth. He is a natural leader and the men really like him. He will do very well. After his selection the crew requested permission to feast him with wine. I thought it would be good for morale so I gave them leave. I trust you approve, my lord.”
“Of course,” I replied, “What is this ‘my lord’ stuff? I am still me, you know!”
“Yes, Little Roman,” he smiled, “But you are truly lord and master of all now.”
“Not all!” I moved to the railing and looked at the setting sun. It was beautiful but the sea seemed like a foreboding infinity struck with fire to the horizon. “The sea is the one true master here,” I mused, “I have spent all day trying to find a way to outsmart it.” He joined me at the rail.
“I take it without success.’ he said.
“You are right as usual!” I replied.
“What will you do, then?” he asked.
“The Greek always seems to have an answer for every challenge,” I said, “Perhaps he will have a suggestion.” I then explained the problem to him in greater detail. After giving it some thought, he agreed it was worth a try to ask. I moved below to seek 17 out.
The sound of laughter and music came from the gallery and I decided to look inside. No sooner had I entered than the music stopped, the men rose to their feet and all laughter ceased at once.
“Please, gentlemen,” I quickly offered, “This is a celebration! Sit down before you fall down!” This drew laughter and the men relaxed. Number 127 offered me a cup.
“Will you join us for a drink, Captain?” he asked. I took the cup and looked around the room. 10 Primus sat at the head of the gallery in his new seat. A crudely fashioned garland drooped across his brow. He was quite drunk.
“Gladly!” said I, raising my cup in toast. “To our new Hortator!” The men joined me in toast and we drank deeply. After speaking socially with several of the men I decided it would be discreet to leave them to their drinking.
“I must take my leave of you,” I finally said, “Enjoy yourselves, gentlemen.” I then asked 127 if he had seen the Greek and he informed me that he had seen him in the galley.
I moved into the kitchen and found Number 17 and 93 hunched over a table with strands of metal and strips of oiled cloth. The Chinese was carefully shaving the strands of metal and the Greek was making notes in a scroll. I joined them quietly and resisted the temptation to ask what they were doing, knowing perfectly well that I would not understand it anyway.
The Greek looked at me finally and asked what I wanted. I explained my problem to him. Before long, they stopped their work and listened with intense interest. The Chinese rubbed his chin and asked questions but confessed that he had no suggestions to offer. The Greek also indicated that he, too, was at a loss but would give the matter consideration. Ultimately he suggested that so many of our company were drinking that it made it difficult to seek advice from those who might be able to help.
Now, the Greeks have long had a reputation for drinking and celebration, or so I had heard, and I found I could not resist asking why he did not join the others.
“Drink dulls the mind,” he replied seriously, “Life is short enough as it is, without losing precious time for such indulgence. Hours turn to days, days to years! There is too much to do!”
I looked at the Chinese who stated flatly: “He will not let me!” I had already learned that Number 17 was an inexhaustible taskmaster so I said no more. I studied the metal on the table they were working on and realized at last that they were making wire. I just about to ask what it was for.
A sudden scream quickly diverted our attention. I recognized the voice at once as being Sarah. We moved for the door to the corridor and my mind immediately filled with thoughts that perhaps Gracchus had not only survived but had somehow gotten aboard! We had no sooner stepped into the narrow corridor when the shape of a man bounded by and pushed me into the wall as he went. An instant later another figure that I could not identify almost ran me down. From behind them, in the room next to the armory, I heard the sobs and cries of Sarah, but could not make out what she was saying.
I ran toward her voice and made out only one phrase: “Calpurnia! My lady!” The sound of those words filled me with such trepidation that I felt as if my head would explode. As we ran into the lighted room I was greeted with a sight that momentarily cut me like a sword. Calpurnia sat, shaking and pale, on a crate. The shoulder of her gown had been torn with violence, exposing one breast, and a thin stream of blood ran down from her neck. Her lips were blue with fright and Sarah quickly ministered to her wound.
“Are you badly hurt?” I asked.
“She is going to be alright,” Sarah quickly spoke, “The wound is not serious.”
“What happened?” I demanded. “Who did this?”
No sooner had I spoke than the afterdeck exploded in loud shouting and sounds of violence. I drew my sword and bounded through the corridor toward the steps. The instant that I emerged the second man who passed me seized upon the first man and flung him to the deck. I could now see their faces. 84 Primus followed his actions with a kick and shouted: “Traitor! Animal!” The kick turned the first man over and I could see who he was: 36 Secundus!
He attempted to rise to his feet and I hissed, “You touched the Lady…?”
Before I could utter another word 53 shot past me like shadow and lashed him with a whip. I had never seen such rage in him before and it was genuinely frightening. His clenched teeth glistened in the angry firelight as he delivered blow after furious blow. In moments 36 Secundus’ back was spewing blood as he was being flayed alive. In desperation he made an effort to resist and the whipping caused him to grasp the rail, his resistance angering the Nubian even further.
Inside I felt mad with such ferocity that I might easily have stepped forward and killed him with my sword. The instant the thought occurred to me 127 stepped in and threw him to the deck. Pinning him on the neck with his foot, he placed the sword to his throat and yelled,
“Move! Give me a reason to kill you. I want to!”
36 Secundus went limp and stopped all resistance. I saw that he was drunk.
I looked at the Nubian, swallowing back his rage and regaining control of himself. He turned to me.
“The Lady?” he inquired with a sick look in his eyes.
“She is not seriously hurt,” I replied, “Sarah is tending to her.”
84 Primus gave 127 a piece of rope. He held it up and looked at me. I suddenly realized I h
ad a situation on my hands and that he was fully prepared to hang him at my order.
“Take him below and put him in chains,” I barked, “Punishment will be at midday! There will be no more drinking on this ship tonight! Return to your stations, and the rest of you get to bed!” I sheathed my sword and moved to 53, slowly taking the whip out of his hand.
“See to the men,” I ordered, “Report any disturbances to me at once. Have his wounds treated as soon as you can and see that a detail is assigned to the armory.”
“Yes, Captain,” he replied, “What will you do?”
“What I should have done as soon as we put to sea! Get going.” I answered.
He saluted and moved to the bridge, shouting orders as he went. I went back down the stairs to find Calpurnia. She had put on a cloak and her wound had stopped bleeding. I could now see that it was not deep at all. The color had returned to her cheeks and she had regained her calm.
“Feeling better?” I asked softly. She smiled at me, meekly.
“She is fine,” Sarah interjected, “Just shaken that is all.” I took her hand and looked into her eyes.
“Thank the Gods,” I declared, “Gather the Lady’s things and move them into my quarters at once. Then, move your own things to the adjoining cabin. I will look after the Lady.” I can only describe the expression on Sarah’s face as a look of genuine approval.
Without smiling she straightened up, looked into me like a stern mother and said only: “At once, my lord.” She turned and disappeared through the door.
With my arm about her shoulders, I led her to my quarters, making a calm, but very obvious show to all who could see that she was, indeed, the Captain’s Woman. Once in the cabin I bade her to lie down and relax. She was not to be seen outside again that night.
