by Nick Brown
‘I’m just going down to … er …’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Tolmai. He had explained that the only time the passengers were permitted below was to make use of the latrine. Now long accustomed to people relieving themselves over the side, Cassius imagined this accommodation was made to spare the ladies.
He had almost reached the steps when the wife spoke up. Like her husband, she used Greek.
‘Good afternoon, sir.’
‘My apologies,’ Cassius replied, halting. ‘Good afternoon.’
‘I am the captain’s wife, Marit. You will have to forgive his lack of manners. These are my daughters, Talitha and Talya.’
Cassius bowed. ‘Delighted, I’m sure. Cassius Quintius Corbulo.’
The younger girl giggled. Her sister slapped her knee and glanced coyly up at him before looking away.
Tolmai tutted as his wife continued. ‘My husband tells me you are a Roman army officer.’
‘Indeed.’ Cassius felt this would at least assure them that he was a trustworthy fellow to have aboard.
‘And your companions?’
Cassius had established a basic story with Kabir. ‘My bodyguards. We are on a special assignment and need to reach Byzantium urgently. I was told that your husband would convey us safely and quickly. Clearly, I was not misinformed.’
Tolmai nodded reluctantly but soon had cause to appear disapproving once more. Marit – who had a lined but pleasant face – gestured towards the bow.
‘You are comfortable?’
‘We are.’
‘And have sufficient provisions?’
‘Yes, thank you. For the moment. Any idea where we’ll be stopping tonight?’
‘Depends,’ said Tolmai.
‘Roughly?’
‘Depends. Depends on—’
‘—what the gods have for us? Of course.’ Cassius pointed up at the sky. ‘Bit miserable now, eh?’
‘It’s the season,’ said the captain. He then shouted an order at his oarsmen and moved the tiller, which was a two-handed job.
‘Our last trip this year,’ said Marit. ‘I shall be glad to be still for a while.’
‘I think my friends are looking forward to that already. They have not travelled by water before.’
‘If they are sick, tell them to look at the land. It helps.’
‘I shall pass that on.’
Tolmai coughed impatiently.
‘Well, if you’ll excuse me.’ Cassius headed below.
Though a light rain fell for much of the afternoon, the skies began to clear before dusk. Despite the weather, captain and crew made full use of the daylight and Tolmai seemed satisfied with the miles gained. The orange sun was already sinking below the high ground to the west when the Adva tied up against a stone quay at which three vessels were already moored. The settlement adjoining it seemed to be little more than a combination of inn and supply depot. The proprietor was clearly well known to Tolmai but wasted no time in hurrying out to claim payment for the night’s stay. There was no rest for the crewmen, who instantly set about placing extra fenders between the vessel and the quay and spreading out the damp sail for drying.
The passengers were more than happy to get out of their way. Cassius grinned as the four Syrians paused upon the quay – readjusting to dry land. Kabir in particular looked so unsteady that he needed a hand from Kammath.
‘It’ll pass,’ said Cassius. ‘And tomorrow you’ll be better.’
Kammath shot him an unduly harsh glare, which Cassius ignored.
‘Wine all round?’ he asked, striding towards the inn, which was dwarfed by the stone-built warehouse beside it.
‘Not for me,’ murmured Kabir. Only then did Cassius realise how pale he was.
‘Come, have a seat,’ said Simo, directing them towards some tables.
Kabir simply shook his head and said something to his son. Instead of stopping with the others outside, the youth escorted his father inside.
A large, bald head appeared in a small window. ‘Evening, sirs. What can I get you?’
‘Half and half – a jug and six mugs,’ instructed Cassius.
‘Right you are.’ With a salute, the man disappeared.
Cassius sat down with Yablus and Idan. One of the other tables was occupied by a trio of men staring into a cage that contained some sort of squeaking rodent.
‘He will feel better tomorrow,’ Cassius told the Syrians.
‘I’m not sure it’s the seasickness, sir,’ replied Simo.
‘It isn’t,’ said Idan. ‘You’ve seen how often he has to void his water.’
Cassius had only noticed the fatigue.
‘He gets dizzy too,’ said Yablus, prompting Cassius to remember the occasion when the chief had almost fallen from his saddle.
‘And he cannot see well,’ added Idan quietly. ‘There has been something wrong for many months. He does not want to admit it; neither does Kammath.’
‘Any ideas, Simo?’
‘With those symptoms, sir, it could be a number of afflictions. The dizziness and vision problems suggest something within the head, the bladder problem something else. It is difficult to be sure.’
‘You can’t do anything?’ asked Yablus.
‘Not without a proper diagnosis. If I could get more information from Master Kabir, I might make some progress.’
‘He wouldn’t like that,’ said Idan.
‘He’d prefer it if we just say nothing,’ added Yablus.
‘Then I suggest we do so,’ said Cassius. ‘The sooner we get to Byzantium and find Aikaterine, the sooner you can head home. His condition might improve. It may be that all the worry is causing these symptoms. Like my headaches, Simo.’
‘That’s possible, sir.’
Nobody spoke for a while. The four of them watched the sailors continue their work, then another group unloading large amphoras from their vessel. It was Yablus who broke the silence.
‘What chance do we have, Cassius? In Byzantium?’
Cassius had made no complaint when Kabir used his first name, and he now found that he couldn’t summon much displeasure at the cheerful youth, who suddenly looked very young and very uncertain. Though he could be sure of nothing yet, Cassius knew he had to keep the party’s spirits up. ‘I’ll tell you this, Yablus – if they’re there, I’ll find them.’
Though the wine at the inn was passable, the food was some of the worst Cassius had ever encountered. Simo offered to prepare him something but he was still not feeling well and the sight of the local offerings did nothing to improve his stomach. Thankfully, Kabir appeared to have recovered and ate alongside the others. Neither Tolmai nor any of the crew ventured into the inn; they dined together with the family in the Adva’s cockpit. Having completed a few jobs, all seemed to have now disappeared below, even though it was no later than the third hour of night.
‘Hope it doesn’t rain,’ said Kammath as they left the inn and walked towards the quay.
‘They left out the cover in any case,’ said Cassius.
‘It’s chilly, sir,’ said Simo, rubbing his hands together. ‘I shall take out the thick blankets.’
‘Please do.’ Cassius paused.
‘Sir?’
Cassius glanced down at the narrow sandy beach to the left of the quay. ‘I shall take a short walk in an effort to settle my gut.’
‘Would you like me to get some hot water, sir? An infusion might help.’
‘No, I’ll be all right. Just sort out the beds. Two blankets on the bottom for me – those timbers are as hard as stone.’
‘Yes, sir.’
He watched the others as they approached the ship; Tolmai had hung lanterns on the stays to help them find their way. Cassius tucked his thumbs into his belt, retraced his steps and then ambled down a short grassy slope on to the beach. He hadn’t been there long when a shift in the cloud spilled moonlight on to the water, illuminating a strip of the river, which was once again calm.
Other than the odd shout or bark
of laughter from the inn, all was quiet. Cassius walked along the beach, the sand soft under his boots. As often happened at night, he could not help thinking of Indavara. His imagination summoned an image of the ex-gladiator trapped somewhere – in a small, bare room.
Did he still pray to his Fortuna? Had he tried to escape? Though Indavara was without doubt a born survivor, a return to captivity would erode his spirit quicker than anything else. During their last mission, Cassius had seen the look on his face when he’d been forced to spend a night behind bars. Like Yablus – like everyone – he would need hope to sustain him. But where would it come from? Perhaps Indavara had more anger than hope. Would that be enough? There was only so much a man could take. Even him.
Cassius looked up at the grey crescent moon. Like the weather, like the river, it was constantly changing. From what he had seen, fortune was much the same: unpredictable, unknowable. The gods knew few men could have experienced such trials as Indavara. They owed him a favour.
Cassius thought of all the letters he had sent out, wondered if anything had turned up in Antioch and if that shifty clerk Calidius had done his job. He just needed something – anything – that might put him on the right trail.
The clouds converged again, leaving the sky and the river dark.
If you are listening, my friend, we will find you. I tell you, we will find you.
He walked on until he reached the end of the beach, then turned back. As he neared the quay, he saw a figure descending the slope. Though he had no reason to be fearful, his hand moved instinctively to his dagger.
Then the moon reappeared, allowing him to see that the figure had stopped and was looking at him.
‘Hello, sir.’
The older of Tolmai’s daughters.
‘Hello,’ said Cassius warily. ‘I daresay you’re supposed to be on the ship.’
‘I couldn’t sleep. I noticed you didn’t come back with the others.’
She walked across the sand until she was close. Even with the moonlight, Cassius could see little of her face.
‘Are you Talya or—’
‘Talitha. And you are Officer Cassius Corbulo.’
‘Well remembered.’
‘I like that name. It suits you.’
Cassius told himself to keep walking. He suspected the girl’s unexpectedly forward approach was precisely the reason why he had been warned. Perhaps she had done this before; perhaps that was why her father guarded his daughters so closely.
And yet it was rather pleasant to be standing there alone with her in the darkness. It seemed an age since he had spent time with a woman, especially a pretty one.
‘What do you mean – “it suits me”?’
‘It sounds … fine.’
He wondered if she meant rich.
‘You look fine,’ she added. ‘And your clothes are fine.’
‘Very kind. Listen, Talitha, normally it would be my pleasure to take a walk with you, or give you flowers, or otherwise initiate an acquaintance but I do not wish to upset your father. I am dependent on his help.’
‘He won’t know. He doesn’t know anything about me.’
‘I doubt that’s true.’
She came another step closer. When her hand touched his, he moved it away.
‘Come now, sir. Where’s the harm?’
‘You want to talk, we can talk. Nothing more.’
‘Don’t you like me? Don’t you want to kiss me? Most men do.’
‘I don’t doubt it.’
‘Is it because you’re a gentleman?’
Cassius smothered a smirk. Were it not for the circumstances he would have already had her in his arms by now.
‘Perhaps.’
‘Where do you live?’ asked Talitha.
‘I suppose I don’t really have a home at the moment. Originally, I’m from Ravenna.’
‘Where’s that?’
‘Italy. Do you have a home – other than the ship?’
‘Only the Adva. I was born on it.’
The inn door slammed. Several talkative sailors ambled to the quay, oblivious to the two people only yards away.
Talitha added, ‘Sometimes I think I’ll die on it. Did you say you’re going to Byzantium?’
‘That’s right.’
‘A man from Byzantium once asked my father for my hand in marriage. He was only a little older than me, very successful. But my father refused. He and mother want me to marry a captain – to stay on the river.’
‘Do they have someone in mind?’
‘There have been a few. But my father doesn’t have much for a dowry. I’m twenty-two next month.’
‘You could do a lot worse than a captain.’
‘I like soldiers. Why don’t you wear Roman red?’
Cassius was used to exploiting his role in the Service and the army to sound either impressive, mysterious or a combination of both. Not this time.
‘I’m basically an administrator. Quite boring really.’
‘That’s why you’re with those long-haired southerners? Don’t lie.’
‘You’re a bright one, Talitha, I’ll give you that.’
‘What else will you give me? A kiss?’
She leaned in close, hair brushing his face as her lips neared his.
Gods, grant me strength.
If he hadn’t stepped backward, Cassius would have weakened. He could not allow it; there was simply too much at stake.
‘Talitha, I’m sorry. You are a very attractive girl. But this is not going to happen. Excuse me.’
As he walked past, she grabbed his arm – with some force. ‘Why? I’m not good enough? If I was your wife I would do everything you wanted. Everything.’
Cassius could hardly believe this. The girl had barely exchanged a word with him before now; known him for one day! It was clear she really did feel trapped aboard the Adva.
Then again, was such behaviour really so strange? He himself had occasionally made intimations of marriage to get his way.
‘Goodnight.’ Cassius removed her hand. He had taken only a few steps when she spoke again.
‘I’ll tell him. Come kiss me now or I’ll tell him you forced yourself upon me.’
This was said with such calmness and conviction that Cassius felt sure she had done such a thing before. He considered countering threat with threat; he reckoned he could scare her enough to keep her quiet.
But he did not want to do that. Beneath the bravado, this girl seemed very unhappy.
‘If you do, I will tell him the truth. We shall see who is believed.’
‘You pig.’
‘By Jupiter, girl, I just came here to take a walk. I do not have the time or patience for your silly games. Grow up.’
As he headed for the quay, she started to cry.
XXIII
It seemed to Cassius that perhaps the gods were smiling on his party and their dual missions once again, though he suspected the skill of Tolmai might be a more decisive factor. Only a little more rain came and the captain used the currents, the wind and his tireless oarsmen to good effect. After three days, he made a rare foray forward to announce that they stood an excellent chance of reaching the Chalcedon road before nightfall on the fifth day. Cassius and the Syrians expressed their gratitude; and Tolmai seemed appreciative that his passengers had kept themselves to themselves.
Cassius had done his utmost to steer clear of Talitha, and was sure she had said nothing of the encounter. Despite the limited confines of the vessel, he had passed her only three times. Twice she had given a fierce stare, the second occasion causing such a stirring in Cassius’s loins that he’d had to cover his tunic with his sun hat. On the third occasion – when they had met on the quay of a small village – her expression had softened to the point where Cassius risked a polite smile. Watching her walk away, his attention was drawn once more to her shapely brown legs and lustrous hair. He could do nothing but shake his head and try not to let his imagination get the better of him.
The riv
er wove its way through lowlands covered with trees. The channel grew wider and they passed dozens of islets, sandbanks and beaches. In the middle of the afternoon on the fourth day – as the Adva rounded a tight bend – Tolmai gave a shout. Cassius, who had been dozing under his hat, sat up.
At another order from Tolmai, the rowers backed their oars. As the galley slowed, the captain hurried past the passengers to the bow. After a third shout, the crewmen shipped their oars; and with the Adva drifting along the centre of the channel, Cassius and the others stood up to see what was going on.
Ahead – close to the middle of the stream – was a narrow island surrounded by banks of reeds. At the near end, a cluster of rocks broke the surface. Jammed sideways against one of them was a rowing boat no more than ten feet long. Inside it was a woman, hands gripping the sides as the little craft juddered.
Cassius walked up to the bow and saw a child on the island, standing where the sand met the reeds, perhaps forty feet from the boat. He couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl.
Tolmai walked back to the cockpit.
As the Adva drifted on, Cassius saw a man emerge from the reeds carrying another child, which he placed next to the first. Without a moment’s hesitation, he turned back to fetch the woman. But after only a few steps, he staggered and fell.
‘He’s exhausted.’
Cassius heard the captain give another order but was bemused to see the galley continuing on its course, staying well clear of the rocks and the fast-moving water where the current divided around the island. Dropping the blanket he’d had over his shoulders, he pushed his way past the Syrians and ran back along the side deck. Even though the oarsmen weren’t working, the tide had already taken the vessel level with the children. Tolmai was staring straight ahead, both hands on the tiller.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I’ll not risk the ship near those rocks.’
‘What about the woman? I doubt that little boat will hold together much longer and the man’s had it.’
Cassius looked back at the island. The man had plunged into the water but seemed to be making no progress.
