“Wine, and not piss. That’s what was agreed upon,” he bellowed. “This is piss. I know piss when I taste it.” He tossed a small cup of it to the ground. “There was a day I was marooned, and you try piss, even, in such a situation. That tastes exactly—”
“But there is no wine to be had!” the man said and wrung his hands. “At least of the one type you desire. It is all sold out. I am telling you, I would gladly sell it to you, but we lost three ships last week. If you were to patrol the lanes with more diligence, then the pirates—”
“You cur,” the man bellowed. “You said before it was a storm that took the ships.”
“I wasn’t there, obviously!” the man yelled back, a note of panic in his voice.
I snorted. With soldiers and sailors, it was always about the wine. I had once heard a similar argument in Castra Flamma, in Luppia River.
They saw us coming, and scowled up to us. All of them. I removed my guardsman’s helmet, and wiped sweat from my face. I looked down at the merchant. “Are you saying,” I uttered, “that men travelling for a personal mission for Augustus himself, cannot have proper wine on the trip?”
The merchant went white of face, then his eyes took a calculative look, and he scowled.
“That is exactly what this shit is saying,” the trierarchus snarled. “Just that. He would make Augustus himself drink piss.”
“Can I have his name?” I asked softly.
Adalwulf smiled. “And where he lives.”
Sejanus pitched in. “I shall send a rider. This is exactly what Augustus was railing against the past month. The navy has the shittiest jobs, and thieves squeeze them dry. Name, man!”
The merchant bowed and whispered. “Gods! Wine! I shall have it. I shall get it. Right away.”
“An odd name, to be sure,” I said. “But perhaps you might go and find us the agreed upon wine, and we forget the name?”
He bobbed his head, cursed softly, nearly wept, and ran off. Some of the milites went after him, and all the men grinned up to us with gratitude.
The trierarchus was looking at the lot of us, and shook his head. “I think it is the first time I thank a man from Rome. But I guess it will be the last as well. You the ones we were supposed to wait for?”
“It is us,” I answered and handed the horse’s reins to Adalwulf. I took the scrolls with me in a heavy leather sack. “Hope we are not an inconvenience.”
The men were dispersing to their duties, and I watched the great trireme with apprehension.
The trierarchus grinned and popped a piece of bread to his maw. Half toothless, he thumbed towards the ship. “Black Wave. The other two don’t matter. They’ll follow along, and they will follow the Wave. I am Alexander. Rhodes for all?”
“Indeed,” I answered. “We travelled on a merchant ship last time. I guess they wanted to give us some luxury this time around.”
He chuckled. “Luxury? No, boy, this is misery! You will stay on the deck. There’s no space for you otherwise, unless in my small cabin.” His eyes went to my scrolls. “And I like my cabin. I do have a cabinet for them.”
I nodded, unhappy with the misery he promised.
Alexander watched the Praetorians, then us, and went back to dinner. “Sad party, eh? Not friendly? The sea will cure that. You’ll all be vomiting soon. I’ll have some tents and sails stretched so you can hide from the sun, at least. Tomorrow morning, we shall leave. There is some Praetorian with six men coming this evening. Then, off we go.”
I stared at him. “Praetorians?”
Alexander nodded. “Indeed. I think it is that one’s centurion.” He nodded at Sejanus.
I froze, and turned to look at Sejanus. His face didn’t so much as twitch, but there was a hint of panic in his eyes.
Shit, I thought, and felt Adalwulf moving with worry.
Lollius had sent more men.
“The route is peaceful?” I asked, trying to hide my worry as Sejanus and his men turned around to find a place to sleep.
He snorted. “Ask your horse. I don’t know. As peaceful as Neptune allows, I suppose. Week, no more on the route. We have business in Crete. We’ll stop there to show the local pirates we are going to be around. They are cowards, holed up in the city, and I shall put the fear of Rome in them. Of course, we won’t really be around, so they will grow bold soon after.” He chuckled. “And after that, in a day or two, we shall have you in Rhodes. We’ll stay there. Then we start sinking local pirates while you meet with the locals. For now, we sail to Acroceraunia, and then south along the coast, popping in various ports. You take the deck next to my cabin. The best place, eh? Hope you have blankets. It’s cold as well as scorching.”
“I’m from Germania,” I sniffled.
“I’m from the sea,” he laughed. “Come. I owe you a meal.” He pushed his nearly finished plate aside, grasped his coins, and we ate in the city, slept in a fine tavern after many cups of wine, and drowned our sorrows.
***
The next morning, when we made our way back to the Black Wave and were about to board, I found the Centurion of the Praetorians looking down at us. Flavus groaned, and I shook my head with shock.
The man had blue eyes, a god-like face, and was beautiful and tall. His face betrayed equal shock, and he only barely listened to Sejanus, who was speaking to him.
Armin.
It was Armin the Cherusci, a former prisoner, and now a Roman citizen with power. He was a bloody centurion of the Praetorian Guard, and what was worse, not some fool. There had been little love lost between Armin and I over the years. He had been a friend when we had no cause to fight, with respect shared, but such times had been few. He had also been an enemy, and we had tried to kill each other before.
And now, we would be stuck on a ship with him.
And worse; I was sure Lollius had sent him to kill us. They had nine men in all, and Sejanus, and Armin. By the look in Armin’s face, Lollius had told him to do away with all, myself included.
I had calculated for Sejanus. But not this.
Armin grinned softly, then turned to look at Flavus, who was rubbing his forehead next to me. The brothers had no love lost between them. Flavus had once betrayed him, and their tribe, and family for Rome. He spoke softly. “What if I were ill? And unable to travel? He will not—"
“You risk him with us,” I snarled. “Livia ordered you here, didn’t she? So, you are coming.”
“You do hate me,” he whispered as we boarded.
“I hope you die painfully,” I told him brusquely.
He was muttering. “We’ll have to kill him or he will kill us. That’s all there is to it.”
And I knew he was right.
***
The ship was rowed over the calm sea. It reacted well to the wind, almost like it was dancing with a lover. It lurched and shuddered when touching the occasional larger waves. That first day turned into an afternoon, and I sat under a sail that had been stretched over the after deck, and the Praetorians were huddled under a similar contraption in the bow. Most all looked ill already. Adalwulf and Flavus were cooking in the ships galley, next to the captain’s small cubicle, and I was watching Armin. He noticed, smiled, removed his silvery helmet, and walked forward. I got up, walked to the middle, and slumped next to the mast.
He crashed down to sit with me.
We watched the sea, the green islands slipping past, the seemingly endless sea kissing the sky in the southern horizon, and enjoyed the silence, until a black bird shrieked over the deck, startling us both.
Armin chuckled. “From the battlefield in the North, to sitting by a mast, and both damned confused.”
I smiled tiredly and gave him a quick look. God-like, beautiful, strong, and far too smart, he had also grown older. He was over thirty, and I was approaching it. His hair was golden with some brown strands. There were creases under his eyes, and new scars on his skin. One was just under his eye. But most of all, it was not a visible change that made him seem aged. It was the change in
his ... soul? Much of the hope had disappeared from the man, and his eyes were like animal’s. They were hard, and cold, and calculating, without humor, and perhaps honor.
“So,” I said, “do you miss the North?”
He grunted, and didn’t answer the question, and it annoyed me.
“Lollius?” I asked him. “You found service as a mother.”
He spoke. “I was a speculatore for the legions in many places, Hraban,” he said simply. “And then a Centurion of a legion. Augustus honored me with this duty. And Lollius agreed. They are both honorable men. As for your first question, Lollius has agreed to help release me as an ally back to the North, after Gaius takes the power. I believe in Lollius’ word, and I am happy with all the service I can give in the meantime.” He leaned over me. “They will try to force me to serve Segestes, for Segestes is a Roman ally in the North, but I shall see about that, won’t I?”
I smiled. “Augustus honorable, Lollius? Have you heard the stories of both? What does Augustus do to his enemies? To Cleopatra and the legal son of—”
“Lollius then,” he answered stiffly. “That man is all about serving. He is rich, yes, with rich friends, and need not lie.”
“He will be rich and even more affluent,” I said maliciously, “when Gaius rules. Then he need not keep his promises to rogue Germani.”
He pushed me gently. “Stop it! Come now, Hraban. I know no Roman who is more honorable than Lollius. He loves Gaius fine. An unsteady boy he is, and Lollius is his strength. I am his sword. So is the century.” He glanced at Sejanus, who was staring at us. “Good fighters, most all. And when I heard Hraban, who was embroiled in this business with Julia and Iullus, and a close ally to Livia—"
“Adalwulf—"
“Close ally to Livia,” he said with a laugh, “suggest that he was betrayed by his Decurion? That Livia told Varus that Adalwulf and his men take personal charge of Gaius? I told Lollius, who still thinks you are not a liar, that we cannot chance it. No.”
“I am not—”
“He told me to take my men, and use my own judgement. That I was to see Adalwulf removed, and I should judge your worth.” He looked at my gear. “Your worth as a warrior is great. Though,” he said simply, “I am sure Livia is going to use your skills to slay our boys. I think this is the case. There is nothing personal in this, Hraban. Nothing. My future is in the North. I shall serve Rome, and plot to kill Segestes, while serving Rome. Damn the Germani freedom, if only I can go home. And you would risk my home-going, eh? Even the risk is enough for me to decide you cannot be trusted. You were always clever when cornered, but clearly you didn’t think this through. Four men were sent with you. You would have them murdered, and go back to Lollius with lies and excuses. No, no.” He smiled like a cruel cat with a bowl of milk. “You are not going to kill Adalwulf. Never were. I don’t know what plot you have devised, but I shall stop you. And Flavus? I consider him a bonus. And, a clear message Livia is involved with you directly. We all know Rochus is shit that heralds trouble, and when I asked around, he has been seen in Livia’s domus plenty. Of course, there is a perfectly good reason for that, no?” He watched some of the galley’s soldiers ambling past. “When we step off the ship, Hraban, I will hunt you down. I will keep an eye on you, kill you like I would vermin, but I will give you a good, quick death.” He gave me a friendly, cold grin. “Unless, of course, you wish to do this on some harbor before Rhodes?”
“Rhodes is fine,” I told him darkly and cursed him. “I am unhappy you do not believe me.”
“I do not.”
I rubbed my face in despair. “You once wanted me to slay Drusus, a man who trusted me. And you held my child hostage. And you—”
He shrugged. “I told you. This is not personal. I know what I have done. I held Lif. I did. It was a filthy thing to do, and I never meant to hurt her. And you know, I think I have not seen, or heard of your wife and boy in ages. I asked. Few have seen them.”
I said nothing.
He looked at his hands. “You are in trouble, I think. It doesn’t matter. Gaius does. Lollius does as well. And my future in the North does. And Lollius didn’t think about it, but the scrolls you carry might have interesting things to say. No? My future matters, and I trust Marcus for the love he has for Gaius. He does love him. Not so Lucius, who is a dullard, but he loves Gaius like a father does a son.” He shook his head. “I think you work Livia’s will. That’s what I think. You do it willingly or unwillingly, I know not, but I will bring safety to our lives. Livia is untouchable, Tiberius is not a danger, but men like you are desperate and dangerous. I will go home ally of Rome, and take what is mine.”
I snorted, though I felt desperation and fear gnawing at my guts. “And you would be a Roman ally? Truly?”
He opened his mouth and shrugged. “I doubt Gaius and I need be enemies. I doubt it, though …” He rubbed his neck and laughed. “I will take Segestes’s place, kill Thusnelda’s husband, if she has one, and then I shall make sure Rome and Germani need not fight. There will be people to fight, I am sure. I hear your father is a great king now, near Illyricum. Some say he avoids war with Rome for now, and Rome is leaving him alone, even after the war with Drusus. I think I too can live with Rome peacefully and forget the past grudges, while I make new ones.” He chuckled. “So, enjoy this trip. We shall watch you. You should definitely throw the scrolls overboard before I get ahold of them.”
I cursed him, but gave him a brave smile.
He was a driven, cold professional, who had been promised his heart’s desire. Glory, honor, riches would come, but he was thinking of home, of Thusnelda, and had decided I was a danger he must overcome.
He would not hesitate.
He got up, gave me a wry grin, and walked away.
I rubbed my neck for a moment, looked up to see Armin settle amidst his men. His eyes were on me, but the man was thoughtful, rather than threatening. I got up on the swaying deck, spotted Alexander, who was speaking with a soldier at the bow, and he grinned at me as I ducked under our sail only to grab a hold of the railing.
“How’s the belly, Hraban? Feeling shit-terrible and looking green? Still think Germania is a merit you can flaunt at a sailor”
“Forget Germania,” I told him. “But I’m not quite dying yet.” He dismissed the soldier, and watched me. Instead, I eyed Armin, who was speaking to his men, and Alexander noted it.
“Trouble?” he asked softly.
“Potentially,” I answered. “They are going the same way, but that man and I? We have bad blood between us. Tribal trouble, from the past.”
“Damn small world,” he answered, though his face twitched with amusement. “I don’t want to delve too deep in Rome’s affairs, or your tribal shit. If you don’t kill each other on my watch, I can’t be happier.”
I nodded thanks. “I won’t try a thing on your deck. But he might. And my scrolls must get to Rhodes. If you can watch them, I would be grateful.”
Alexander scowled at Armin. “Of course. But surely, he wouldn’t dare try anything here? They are guards on business for Rome, and would not risk trouble?” He scowled at Armin. “He had better not. Unless he can swim for a long distance.”
“The centurion is a rogue,” I answered. “Not someone who thinks straight. And he can swim, indeed. Perhaps you might help me?”
He clapped a hand on my shoulder and chuckled. “I shall keep an eye on them, eh? For the wine. But no swimming before they do something that merits a dip.”
“Thank Woden for the wine,” I muttered.
He laughed raucously. “Zeus! Or Dionysus! Thank him!”
I nodded thanks and sat down next to my gear, waiting for my food, and looked at the Praetorians.
I’d have to slay him. Armin. Or try to.
I cursed the Three Spinners, and especially Skuld, who was constantly working to twist our future into knots. She must have it in for me. Not only was I in trouble I had not anticipated, but I didn’t exactly hate Armin. His hope for recov
ering Thusnelda drove him, and now, Lollius set him to decide my fate, and I had no wish to kill him.
If I could, that is. He had too many men.
The plan had worked far too well so far.
Adalwulf sat down next to me and gave me a bowl of something I didn’t want to speculate on.
I grunted. “Armin is here to determine if I am a liar. He thinks I am, without determining it. Lollius was unsure, but he seems happy to kill us.”
He nodded. “So, shit bad mistake this. Too many men. How will we do this? Lollius will never believe they all died of dysentery, if we gut the lot on deck or on land.”
I chuckled. “Alexander said he will make sure they don’t sneak up on us at night and ruin our sleep. And Armin said he will hunt us down in Rhodes like animals.”
“He hunts for dangerous prey,” Adalwulf said sullenly, a hint of savagery in his voice. “Shit. What shall we do?”
I shook my head. “Keep our eyes open. We have a week to figure it out. But in the end, I am afraid they shall all have to die.”
He laughed. “I love an optimist. I truly do. But not a liar. Start figuring it out, please.”
CHAPTER 7
The trip would last ten days, after all. This was because of a storm that raged on the Greek coast for two days, and we waited inside a bay, the ships drawn on the beach. Armin’s men watched us like hawks. After the weather cleared, with a few rogue clouds still travelling the sky, we rowed on, mostly hugging the coasts. After Tainaron we turned east, and would arrive in Crete soon.
And I still had no idea how to escape our predicament.
It had been my plan, and the responsibility weighed on me like a ton of rocks. Armin had not made a move for us, and mainly spoke with his men. Sejanus, his eyes cold as ice, kept looking at us like a snake. The Praetorians sat, drank, ate, and slept, and I, entirely out of ideas, was merely staring at the coasts and the sea wondering about the great magnitude of the world Woden and his kin had once created to escape concentrating on how to deal with the issue at hand.
The Bane of Gods: A Novel of Germania and Rome (Hraban Chronicles Book 5) Page 11
