Veterans of Rome (Book 9 of the Veteran of Rome Series)

by William Kelso

  As they approached the vessel Marcus saw figures moving about up on the deck. As he raised his hand in greeting a figure on-board the Hermes paused and then quickly returned his greeting.

  “Have you lost your way captain?” Marcus bellowed in a happy voice. “Permission to come aboard Sir.”

  “I believe we have not,” Alexandros yelled back, with a wide grin. The one-eyed captain, sporting his black eye patch, stooped and then threw a coil of rope out to Marcus. “Tie her up and come aboard. We have been expecting you Marcus.”

  As Cunomoltus busied himself tying up the small rowing boat, Marcus, clutching the small cage, clambered awkwardly up the netting that was draped over the Hermes’s hull. Stumbling onto the deck, he was swiftly surrounded by familiar faces. Quickly Cora and then Calista came up to him and gave him a quick joyous hug. They were followed by Calista’s eleven-year-old daughter. The girl had been born in Hyperborea and looked just like her mother. Then it was Jodoc’s turn. The druid’s son was unable to hide a grin, as he quickly embraced Marcus and then did the same to Cunomoltus as he clambered onto the deck. Shyly Jodoc retreated a little, placing his hands on his daughter’s shoulders as the two of them gazed silently at Marcus and Cunomoltus. The last to embrace Marcus was Alexandros. The big, one-eyed Greek captain was chuckling to himself with delight as he examined Marcus from top to bottom.

  “So, are you still going ahead with your plan,” Marcus exclaimed as he gazed at Alexandros with a broad grin. “You still planning on heading west, back out across the ocean to Hyperborea?”

  “That’s right,” Alexandros chuckled. “Like I promised. We came back to say goodbye to you and Cunomoltus. We are bound for the west, to Hyperborea and beyond. We are going to make our fortune out there in the west, Marcus.”

  “Just the five of you?” Marcus frowned, as he turned to look around the deck.

  “Well at the moment yes,” Alexandros replied, quickly lowering his gaze. “We do all know how to sail though,” he added in a defensive voice. “The little sailor girl over there,” he said, gesturing at Calista’s daughter, “she has known no other home apart from the Hermes and neither has her mother. After we dropped you off, we sailed to Londinium where we berthed for the winter. I was hoping to find some more crew in the city, but we found no one willing to make the passage. Everyone thought I was completely mad. Jodoc thinks he may be able to convince a couple of acquaintances in Hibernia to come with us. We are going there after we leave here. I was however hoping to find some desperate hardy souls when we came to see you. Do you perhaps know anyone who would be willing to make the journey across the ocean?”

  A little grin appeared on the corner of Marcus’s lips. “If you are asking me whether I would like to go with you, the answer is no I’m afraid. My home is here on Vectis.”

  “It’s not too late to change your mind,” Alexandros replied. “What with all that trouble in Rome and with this Nigrinus after you. Maybe you should think about it Marcus. Leave all your troubles behind. You know what lies out there. You could begin again, a clean slate for you and your family.”

  “Ah, you are a persuasive man Alexandros,” Marcus said with a gentle smile. “But my home is here on Vectis. I am not leaving. I am waiting for my son Fergus to return home.”

  “Fair enough,” Alexandros replied with a grin, as he slapped Marcus across his back. “I understand.”

  “So, when are you are setting out?” Marcus asked turning to look around the deck.

  “Not tonight,” Alexandros boomed with a mighty laugh. “No, tonight my friend you and Cunomoltus will be our guests. The Hermes is in fine shape and well stocked with provisions. Your gold made that happen. We’re vastly better prepared than the first time. No, tonight Marcus we are going to drink to the old, sturdy lady who never let us down. Tonight, we are going to drink to us.”

  “Sounds like you already began, old man?” Cunomoltus called out in a cheeky voice as he gazed across at the big Greek captain.

  “Shit,” Alexandros said, slowly shaking his head as he turned to look at Cunomoltus. “Remind me again why I never had you thrown overboard? How many weeks did we have to endure your misery after you were forced to leave that Hyperborean girl behind. Even the ship’s cat was sick of you.”

  “You are a funny man Alexandros,” Cunomoltus retorted, the broad grin plastered across his face. “It’s just that I can smell the wine from here.”

  “It’s good to see you Alexandros,” Marcus interrupted in a serious voice as he stepped forwards and caught hold of the captain’s arm. “I am glad you came back to say goodbye. Of-course we shall drink with you. Your journey must start well.” Quickly Marcus indicated the small cage at his feet. “I have brought this chicken with me and will slaughter it as an offering to Neptune and the water spirits. I shall ask them for your safe passage across the ocean. Allow me to do this old friend.”

  Slowly Alexandros looked down at the solitary chicken inside its cage.

  “It looks terrified,” the Greek captain growled. Then a broad grin appeared on his lips and he kicked the cage, sending it sliding over the deck in his wife’s direction. “Fancy some chicken tonight Cora,” Alexandros boomed with laughter. “Your recipes are the best in the world.”

  ***

  In the night sky a few stars were visible. Aboard the Hermes near the deck house at the stern, the seven of them were gathered together, sitting cross-legged in a circle on the wooden deck. Oil lamps hung from the rigging, creating an eerie, flickering light and the motion of the sea was gently rocking the ship. Curled up in Cunomoltus’s lap the black ship’s cat was dozing contentedly. Across from Marcus, Calista’s daughter had difficulty in keeping her eyes open. The mood was relaxed, and all the adults had cups of wine in their hands. Alexandros was recounting what had happened to them during the winter in Londinium, his powerful voice drifting away across the dark waters of the sheltered inlet. When at last he fell silent, Marcus looked down at the deck and then reached out to fondly touch the planking with his left hand. Raising his cup of wine to his lips he downed the contents and quickly placed his cup down on the deck. Then without warning he took a deep breath and began to sing in a deep voice and as he did, the others quickly and smoothly joined in, singing the mournful and beautiful Hyperborean songs they had learned from their time in the new world. And as their voices rose together into the darkness, the seven of them linked hands and arms and Marcus turned to gaze at the faces around him. In the flickering reddish light all were smiling and grinning at each other, as the memories of their epic sea voyage returned and with it the fierce comradeship that had sustained them.

  “Will you keep this safe, Marcus,” Cora asked as the singing finally died away. From under her cloak she suddenly produced a small leather-bound wooden box that was sealed with strips of cloth. “It’s the entire written account of our journey to Hyperborea from twelve years ago including my hand drawn pictures. Everything is in it. I want you to have it.”

  “In case we do not return,” Alexandros said quietly, as he fixed his eyes on Marcus.

  Marcus nodded as he took possession of the box. For a moment he ran his fingers over the wood. Then he glanced quickly at his brother.

  “I hope you succeed,” Marcus said quietly, turning to look around the circle. “I hope you find what you are looking for like I did on our first voyage. Hermes is the messenger of the Gods. Let her take you onwards and into eternity. She is a good ship and she is crewed by fine people; among the finest I have known.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four – Summoned

  A week had passed since Marcus had said goodbye to Alexandros and the Hermes. His last image of the small ship had been seeing the Hermes’s red sail disappear behind the towering cliffs as it headed away westwards along the coast. Now, trotting down the straight Roman road, the three horsemen brought their horses to an ambling halt, as across the open fields they caught sight of Noviomagus Reginorum. The gates into this small prosperous market town were open and traff
ic, pedestrians, horsemen and ox-drawn wagons, were coming in and out of the settlement. Out in the fields that surrounded the town, farmers were planting the next harvest. Along the settlement’s earthen embankment and wooden palisades, a party of workmen were replacing the old defences with a brand-new stonewall. Marcus grunted as he carefully surveyed the scene. At the rate that the workmen were going, it would be many years before Reginorum had its new defences.

  “Maybe I should go on ahead and see what Ninian wants,” Cunomoltus said, as he peered at the town from atop his horse. “I know Ninian is a longstanding friend - our reliable business partner, as Dylis likes to call him, but this summons seems rather odd. Normally he would ride out to our farm if he had something important to tell us. You know how much he likes to see Dylis and he does work for us after all. So, why summon us now to Reginorum without bothering to tell us why it is so urgent and important? Something smells fishy, Marcus.”

  “Could it be a trap Sir?” Indus asked eyeing the town. “Maybe Ninian is a good man but someone else is forcing him to summon you to his office in town. Maybe someone is trying to lure you away from the farm Sir?”

  Marcus said nothing, as he gazed across the fields at the town. Then slowly he shook his head.

  “You are both being paranoid,” Marcus growled, as he began to move forwards, urging his horse down the road towards the town gates. “Clear your heads,” he called out. “If someone wants to ambush me they would have done it when we landed on the mainland or in the forest - that we just passed through. No. If Ninian says it’s important then it will be important. I want to hear what he has to say.”

  Clattering past the armed city guards and into the town, Marcus turned to look around. On the corner of a street nearby stood the tavern, where twelve years ago, he’d spent the night before setting out on the final leg of his long journey home from the Dacian frontier. That too had been the day when Cunomoltus had first appeared and had followed him to Vectis, claiming to be his long-lost half-brother. It had been on that same day too, that he’d learned of Ahern’s existence and Kyna’s infidelity. But he himself was hardly blameless and innocent in that respect.

  Further along the main street that ran the length of the town, the splendid and rich looking Temple of Neptune and Minerva, whose priests had given Petrus such a hard time, was gleaming in the afternoon sunshine. Beyond the temple, a queue of people had formed and were patiently waiting for their turn to enter the newly-completed stone bathhouse. No one seemed to be paying him any attention, as Marcus slowly walked his horse past the terraced shops and houses and down the narrow and congested street, with Cunomoltus and Indus following closely behind. Dismounting in front of the grand temple, Marcus paused for a moment to gaze at the marble dedication slab that had been proudly erected in front of the temple doors. Then on foot and leading his horse, he headed towards Ninian’s small office, that was squashed in between the temple and a row of buildings. As he approached the broker’s office, Ninian appeared in the doorway and quickly raised his hand in greeting.

  “Marcus, good to see you,” Ninian called out. “I know its irregular, but I am glad you came. I’m afraid that the matter is urgent and important.”

  “What is so urgent and important that you could not tell me earlier?” Marcus asked, as he clasped hold of Ninian’s arm in a formal greeting.

  “I was concerned you would not come if I told you,” Ninian replied evasively and, as he did, he glanced hastily towards the doorway into his office. “You had better come inside. There are two men waiting here to see you. They have been here since yesterday morning.”

  “Who? What men?” Marcus snapped, as he shot the doorway a quick suspicious look.

  “Important men, Marcus,” Ninian replied sharply, as he raised his eyebrows. “They are speculatores - law enforcers on the governor’s staff, old friends of mine. They have come from Londinium,” Ninian added. “The governor has sent them. They wish to speak to you, that’s all.”

  Slowly Marcus turned to peer again at the dark doorway leading into Ninian’s office. Then without any further hesitation, he abruptly strode towards the entrance and ducked into the building, swiftly followed by Ninian and Indus, leaving Cunomoltus outside to tend to the horses.

  Inside the gloomy broker’s office, two men were sitting around a table upon which stood a jug and a couple of cups. As Marcus came striding into the room, the men swiftly rose to their feet. They were clad in good quality clothing and both looked to be in their forties, with stylishly trimmed beards.

  Marcus paused in the middle of the office and silently gazed at the strangers, as Ninian quickly slipped past him and smoothly positioned himself in between the two parties.

  “I am Marcus. I believe you two gentlemen wanted to speak to me?”

  For a moment the two men did not reply. Then the taller of the two, a man with a broken nose, raised his chin and peered at Marcus.

  “My name is Felix,” the man said, speaking confidently in good clear Latin. “Forgive me for arranging our meeting here and not at your farm. Ninian and I go back a long way and I thought it would be better and more discreet if we did it here. My colleague and I are speculatores, law enforcers on the staff of the newly appointed governor of Britannia, Marcus Appius Bradua.”

  “Bradua!” Marcus interrupted. “I didn’t know there had been a change of governor?”

  “Marcus Appius Bradua took up his position at the start of this year,” Felix replied in a patient voice. “He arrived in Londinium a month ago. He has instructed my colleague and I to inform you that the senate in Rome has declared you a fugitive and an enemy of Rome. You stand accused of conspiracy and treason against the state and the murder, in your own home in Rome, of two leading senators. Furthermore, I am instructed to inform you that your name has been erased from the senatorial lists, that your property in Rome has been seized and that your family are forbidden from applying for any government contracts until the outcome of your trial. You are also forbidden from standing for election to any government positions. I hope you understand the seriousness of these charges.”

  “Of-course I understand the seriousness of the situation,” Marcus snapped. “And I know Bradua from my time in the Senate.”

  Quickly, Felix exchanged glances with his colleague.

  “The governor has instructed me to inform you that you are to stand trial,” Felix said in a stern voice, as he turned to Marcus. “The court date has been set for the sixth day of June, the trial is to be held at the governor’s palace in Londinium. You are a Roman citizen and therefore have the same rights as all citizens. You will be allowed to defend yourself in court, but I warn you, that if the charges of treason and murder are proven, you will likely receive the death penalty.”

  “I am no traitor,” Marcus replied calmly. “I have served Rome faithfully. I was a soldier for twenty-three years with the Second Batavian Auxiliary Cohort. I lost these fingers fighting on the Danube. The charges against me are politically motivated. They will not stick.”

  “Well we shall let the court and the law decide that,” Felix said quickly. “My job is just to inform you of the charges against you and summon you to court. Out of respect for your former position and status as a senator of Rome and your long-standing acquaintance with him,” Felix continued, “the governor feels that you are no flight risk. He doesn’t think you will run, so he has agreed to grant you the privilege to remain at liberty until the day of your trial. However, you shall pay a bail sum of ten thousand denarii. We have instructions to take receipt of the bail money. We expect the money to be delivered to us here within the next three days.”

  “Who will be the judge? Will it be a trial by jury?” Ninian said quickly.

  “The governor Marcus Appius Bradua has jurisdiction and will preside over the case as the judge,” Felix replied. “He has a duty to uphold Roman law in the province. The prosecution team will be appointed by members of the senate in Rome and the trial outcome will be decided by an appointed
jury of twelve leading citizens of Londinium.”

  “Why the delay in the court date?” Marcus growled. “I am ready to defend myself now. Why such a long wait?”

  For a moment Felix hesitated.

  “The prosecution needs more time to collect evidence against you,” Felix replied at last. “Their investigators are already in Rome searching for witnesses. The governor is determined that this be done properly, so it will take some time before they are ready.”

  “No doubt it will be Nigrinus who puts together the prosecution,” Marcus snapped.

  “You have been informed of the governor’s instructions and you are ordered to comply with them,” Felix said sharply. “You have three days in which to raise the bail money and bring it here. As for the legal proceedings, the governor has a solemn duty to uphold the law and ensure that you get a fair trial. He wishes you to know that that is exactly what he intends to do.”

  “I am sure he does,” Marcus replied. “But that little shit Nigrinus doesn’t.”

  ***

  “Marcus Appius Bradua is a member of the War Party,” Marcus said, as he sat at the table in the dining hall of his villa. “I met him a few times in Rome. He is a decent man, a former Consul of Rome but he is a friend of Nigrinus. He may not be within the War Party’s inner circle, but he is loyal to Nigrinus. No doubt the governor is acting on Nigrinus’s instructions. If Bradua must choose between me and Nigrinus, he will always choose Nigrinus. He will not take my side. He will faithfully carry out his orders. That’s the kind of man he is; a loyal dog who doesn’t like to take risks.”