by Griff Hosker
“Go for it then.”
Metellus selected his straightest arrow and settled himself into his stance, bracing his legs and flexing his knees against the motion of the ship. He aimed straight and then slowly lifted the bow so that the arrow would leave the weapon at a steep angle. When the arrow flew the noise took them all by surprise as it sang into the air. They watched it arch and then begin to dip towards their target. The pirate was concentrating on steering the boat and trying to sail as straight a course as possible. The arrow plunged into his unprotected neck ripping through his arteries and embedding itself in his heart. Death was instantaneous and his dying spasm threw his weight on the tiller almost stopping the boat as it died into the wind. The marines on the two bolt throwers saw their chance and the two bolts struck the low pirate ship below the waterline. Quickly reloading they sent a second bolt to rampage through the rowers. Already wallowing in the waves the low freeboard and the holes below the waterline meant that they would have to bail for all they were worth if they were to survive. The pirate would struggle to stay afloat and would take no further part in the battle.
There was a cheer from the marines who saluted Metellus. Modestly the archer gave a low bow. “That was a superb shot Metellus.”
“It was lucky; I was aiming for his head. Should we pepper the ship or save our arrows?”
“I think we can save them for there are four more ships for us to deal with.”
They skirted the helpless and sinking ship and then felt the boat heel over as the Captain changed their direction from south west to south east. The wind was almost coming from astern and, with two banks of oars, they were flying through the water. Three of the pirate ships had attacked the two fouled merchantmen; the helmed northern warriors flooding over the decks of the unarmed and unprotected merchant ships. Quintus took the bireme like an arrow towards the rearmost ship of the pirate squadron. It was slightly larger than the others and looked to have more warriors on board. Livius knew what the captain intended and said urgently to his two men. “Brace your selves we are going to ram.”
When they were but forty paces from the ship the Captain roared. “Oars!” As one the oars were raised and angled backwards. The prow of the Roman ship drove deep into the belly of the pirate ship which immediately filled with water. “Back oars!” The bireme reversed itself as Quintus aimed at a second ship. They would not have the momentum this time but Neptune was watching over them for the wind drove the ram into a second ship. Unseen by the three Explorates the marines had raced forward and were preparing the corvus.
“Get your bows ready boys and clear their decks.”
The two men needed no further urging and arrow after arrow flew the twenty paces to the pirate deck and the unarmoured pirates stood no chance. They had seen the bireme and knew what was coming. Their only chance was to stop the beak crashing down and trapping their ship. The spike of the heavy corvus crashed down onto one unfortunate pirate who had avoided the arrows and was aiming his spear at the three Explorates. The metal spike impaled him to the deck of his ship. The sixteen marines hurled themselves across in an armoured wedge. The pirates outnumbered the marines but with only a couple of shields and no body armour they were no match for the relentless and ruthless marines. Soon the bloody deck was covered in the bodies and limbs of erstwhile pirates.
The last two pirate ships had decided that discretion was the better part of valour and disengaged, heading south west as fast as they could go. The little loot they had garnered was a minute proportion of the goods they had hoped to glean from the unprotected merchant ships. But for the timely arrival of the Hercules all the ships would have been captured. Livius nodded to Rufius and Metellus who grinned as they rained arrows on the sterns of both boats which were rowing away as fast as they could. They were so close to the Roman ship that every arrow found a mark. The marines also joined in with a barrage from their bolt throwers and soon the rearmost ship began to sink. Its end helped its last companion to survive for it turned beam on to the Hercules and Quintus could not avoid ramming his third ship.
Quintus quickly ordered the sail lowered to enable them to go to the aid of the merchant ships which had been attacked and boarded by the northern pirates. He strode forward and grasped Metellus’ arm. “Had I not seen that with my own eyes I would not have believed it. Livius did you know he could shoot so well?”
Slapping Metellus on the back he grinned,” I knew he was the best shot in the ala with Rufius here a close second but that shot exceeded even my expectations.”
“It saved many men’s lives today for had we had to fight that ship then the merchant ships would have been taken and we would have lost men taking that ship. As it is it has been a good day and we have only failed to sink one ship.”
Rufius looked over the side at the men waving their arms frantically as they clung to the debris from the three sinking and sunken ships. “And the pirates? Will they be saved?”
Quintus’ face hardened. “To what end? To crucify them? They knew what their fate would be when they became pirates. They will drown and,” he waved his arm at his crew, “not a man will mourn them. When we reach port we will celebrate this victory.”
The small convoy edged its way south east towards the nearest Gaulish port which was Portius Itius, the rowers pleased that their work was done as the capsarii from the Hercules worked to save the lives of those injured sailors aboard the merchantmen. “I would hate that death.”
“What’s that Rufius?”
“Drowning. What a horrible way to die.”
Metellus spat a piece of gristle over the side and a seagull swooped down to claim the bounty. “Any death before your time is a horrible way to die.”
Livius looked in surprise at his Explorate. “Dying with a sword in the hand guarantees you will be with the Allfather.”
“And that has to be better than this? To live on this earth and to enjoy life? I cannot believe that the Allfather wants us that quickly. I think Prefect Marcus had the best of it, a glorious life and a quiet death. That is the way I would choose it.”
“Are you afraid of death then Metellus?”
“No sir but I do not welcome it and I will do everything in my power to avoid it; not just my own death but those I share a bond with.”
Nodding Livius said quietly, “Which is why you are such a good capsarius.”
“If I can help men to cheat death then so be it.”
“Land to the east!”
The cry of the lookout ended the conversation but Livius had learned more about his friend in the last hour than in the many years they had served and ridden together. How much more would he learn in this odyssey and, would he too change?
They sailed together, a small convoy; the bireme was forced to sail at the pace of the slower merchantmen. Neptune turned the wind around and the small ships, many with reduced crews, had to tack and turn painfully slowly as they meandered steadily south and east. The Explorates used the time to watch the land as it slipped by their left side. It was their first glimpse of the rest of the Empire. They had left the land of Britannia and now viewed the landmass which formed the bulk of the enormous Roman Empire.
“It does not look much different from Britannia. The same sands and trees.”
“Perhaps it will when we walk the streets.”
“It looks to be flatter than the lands of the Brigante and I cannot see any people.”
“Perhaps when we see a port.”
“One good thing Livius is that I can catch up on my sleep.” Now that they had their sea legs the three of them found the motion of the ship conducive to sleep and with nothing else to do they could, unusually for such hard working warriors, rest and laze on the deck of the bobbing bireme.
* * * * * *
“Port ho!”
Quintus gestured for the three passengers to join him. “Normally we would not make port here but as I had these little chicks to care for I thought we would anchor for the night and take on water and pr
ovisions. This is a big port and we can have hot food. Besides which I will need to speak with the promagistrate and tell him of the pirates.” He shrugged. “In the old days we would have sent ships out to capture and crucify the survivors but these barbarians will return north with their tails between their legs.”
“Yes Captain but they will remember the Hercules.”
Quintus beamed at the praise from Metellus. “Thank you for that Explorate. Yes they will be more careful next time they decide to plunder the seas around Britannia. We will put the gangplank down when we land but do not stray far from the quayside. We sail with the tide, whatever time that may be.” He grinned, “I daresay if I cannot see you I will find you in the closest tavern.”
“You know us too well old friend.”
“I know you are like my sailors and marines and those not on watch will also be enjoying the ale and celebrating their victory.”
Pontius Itius was a busy port. It had grown since the time of the invasion of Britannia over fifty years earlier. Although there were less military vessels than in earlier times the merchant ships plied the narrows from Portus Dubris and back almost on a daily basis. The northern parts of Britannia might still be the frontier but the southern half was civilised and its inhabitants demanded the finest of Roman goods to impress their neighbours. All manner of ships and cargoes left to cross the short twenty miles to the most western outpost of the Empire.
Livius and his colleagues stepped ashore and suddenly felt strange as though they were still aboard the Hercules. “My legs don’t seem to work well sir.”
“I know Rufius. It is a strange phenomenon. You will get used to it and we have only one more voyage to make before we will be away from the sea. And Rufius, drop the sir, we are now working behind the lines again.”
No-one paid them any attention as they walked along the cobbled quayside. Strangers were a common sight here on the mainland of the Roman Empire. Metellus pointed to the house with the painted sheaf of wheat which marked it as an alehouse. “This looks as good a place as any to start.”
“Lead on Metellus.” They found a table which was unoccupied. Soon the place would be heaving as the sailors were allowed ashore from the Hercules for a short time and the three men gratefully staked their claim to a piece of relative comfort. “We might as well take the opportunity to have some hot food. I believe the mussels are good in this part of the world.”
“Mussels?”
“Ah I forgot Rufius that you are from the high lands. They are a shellfish. Very pleasant. Try them.”
Rufius looked dubious about eating something which lived at the bottom of the sea. “I will give them a go but if I don’t like them then what is the alternative?”
Livius glanced up at the crudely written board in bad Latin. “Well the hot food all involves shellfish of some kind otherwise it will be bread and cheese. If you want hot…”
“Mussels it is then.”
The steaming mound of mussels which arrived, accompanied by freshly baked bread made Rufius’ mouth drop open. “Are they all for us?”
“Do not worry we will manage them all. Dig in.”
Rufius and Metellus looked warily at the half opened shellfish and Livius could see their dilemma. He took one of the mussels and removed the orange meat which he swallowed. He then took the empty shell and used it like a pair of pincers to take out the meat from another of the molluscs. “Easy eh? And the bread is used to mop up the juices afterwards.”
The taste of the mussels infused with ale and garlic soon converted the two younger men who wolfed the contents of the kettle until all that remained was a pile of discarded shells. “Well that was a surprise. I did enjoy that sir.”
“Rufius!”
“Sorry, er Livius. They were really good. The beer is not so good though.”
“Well it looks like the locals are drinking something different.” Metellus called over the slave who had served them. “What are they drinking?”
“Sicera.” When Metellus looked confused he added. “Made from apples and much better than the muck you are drinking.”
“Bring us three then.” When the drink arrived they found it very pleasant. “Better than being on campaign eh Rufius?”
“I don’t know I miss being on a horse.”
“I know what you mean…”
Before Livius could continue they were interrupted by a small man, one of the sailors from the merchantmen, who approached their table. He seemed to stare at Livius. “Sorry to stare sir but, well first off, are you the ones from the Hercules who came to our aid?”
Livius nodded, “We are.”
“And were you the ones who killed the steersman?”
Livius pointed at Metellus who bowed his head, “He was the archer.”
“Then thank you sirs for we would have been dead men but for that bowshot.”
“Is that why you stared?”
“No sir but I have seen you before, or at least your double.”
The three Explorates went from relaxed inebriation to a heightened state of anticipation. “When?” Livius gestured for him to sit down and he did so.
The small man spoke quietly and confidentially to Livius. “My name is Drest and I was First Mate on the Swan, a pretty little boat she was; we used to sail out of Eboracum and down here to Pontius Itius. Last year we were captured by some Roman deserters while we were in Eboracum. When they were attacked by a Roman patrol, on the river, I escaped. The leader; he was your double.”
“He was my brother, please continue and have something to drink.”
“Thank you sir.” Drest poured some of the golden liquid from the jug on the table into his beaker. “I knew that there was a resemblance.”
“What can you tell us of my brother and the men who accompanied him?”
“They were cut throats, begging your pardon, but it is true. Your brother well he was a bad ‘un but the others.” He shuddered at the memory. “There was one they called Centurion. Had a long scar on his face he was nasty and another one called Tiny he was a giant; I wouldn’t have wanted to get the wrong side of either of them and the others well I didn’t get their names but they were evil.”
“And after you escaped what then?”
“I saw them sail down the river and I legged it into Eboracum and signed on another boat.”
Disappointed Livius sat back in his seat. “And that is all that you know?”
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand Drest put down his beaker. “Well sir, I heard some things but they aren’t facts exactly.”
“I am intrigued. What do you mean?”
“When I was in Burdigala a few months back, picking up some wine I heard of a ship as came into port and then disappeared. All the locals were talking about it. From their description it sounded like the Swan and then they talked of seeing a column of men heading north with mules and the thing is,” he leaned forward to make his point, “they all said there was a giant with ‘em. Not exactly evidence but…”
Livius became excited. “Drest that is the best news we have had in a while. Let me buy you another jug.”
Drest shook his head. “No sir. I came over here to tell you that the lads have paid your bill. We owe you our lives, the least we can do is feed you. Thank you again.” He stood to leave but he then leaned down to speak with Livius. “When you catch them bastards sir, well I know he is your brother but kill them will you? The lads on the Swan were good lads, they were my mates, they didn’t deserve to die and the Swan, well I had served on her since I was a lad. She was a lovely little sailer. Get them for us eh?”
“I don’t think our mission is such a secret anymore Livius.”
“No but we have names and we have a location. I think we will head back to the Hercules and talk to Quintus. We have plans to make.”
As they left the tavern they were cheered and back slapped by the sailors from the merchantmen and the Hercules alike. When they were on the quayside once more Metellus shook his head. “W
e could have spent the night there and never paid a penny.”
“Yes Metellus and tomorrow when we were at sea you and Rufius would have been hurling into the wind again. I think that we left just in time.”
The Captain was back on board by the time they reached the ship and was eating his own bowl of mussels. “I thought you lads would have made a night of it?”
“Well we would but we have some more news.”
After Livius had told Quintus of the events he nodded. “So you want me to take you further south eh? Not Namnetum. That is no problem.”
Livius shifted uncomfortably. “Not really. We still want to go to Namnetum and see what we can find out and then we want you to drop us north of Burdigala on the opposite shore.”
“That is not a problem but why?”
“Drest told us that he had heard that the column of men was heading north and that is where we want to be.”
“But you will be afoot and I think from what I can remember of the coast from Namnetum down to Burdigala is that it does not have troops stationed there and the communities are quite isolated. Apart from wine growing the coast is just used for salt production.”
“That just makes even more sense then. That sounds the perfect place for my brother, far away from soldiers and with the freedom to do as he wishes but you are right about being afoot. How do we get mounts?”
Quintus took out a map. “Look here there is an old port, Portus Santonum. It is half way between Namnetum and Burdigala. We can land there and get horses. It will give you a starting point. There seems little point in travelling further than you have to.”
“That’s sounds like a good idea to me Livius.” Metellus peered intently at the map. “Rufius is the best tracker we have and if we can get a sniff of a giant and Romans we will have them.”
“You are right Metellus. We will find out what we can at Namnetum and then begin our quest at Portus Santonum.”
The next two days tested both the stomachs of Rufius and Metellus as well as the skills of the sailors of the Hercules as Neptune decided that he had favoured them enough on this voyage. Once they left the safety of the coast of Britannia the huge waves, travelling from what seemed to be the edge of the world, hurled themselves at the tiny ship which was rocked and buffeted by waves which seemed taller than their mast. The three landsmen cowered beneath their tiny scrap of canvas as the crew fought to stay afloat and alive. Quintus had to constantly reef the sail to avoid it being torn to shreds and the rowers had to row until their hands bled just to keep the bow facing into the waves. Quintus, his First Mate and the biggest sailor in the crew, hung on to the tiller like men trying to tame a wild bull. After twenty four hours the storm abated and the battered ship bobbed up and down on much smaller waves. The coast could be discerned as a thin grey line in the distance and an exhausted Quintus gave the order for the sail to be raised and the rowers to rest.
