Insurgent of Rome Read online

  "Do we not approach now?" asked Flavius as the Royals approached their waiting position off the road. "Yon is the King in the middle of the host of dandies."

  Julius shook his head. "Any who advance from the trees takes a goodly chance in getting a spearpoint in the belly. Nay. We will follow and make our appeal when they doss for the night."

  Now their walk was as a man taking his leisure on a sunny day. Indeed, the pace was so slow that they stopped to rest often, under the trees, rather than continue the tired shuffling needed to follow the procession, but not overtake it. Finally, two entire hours before sunset, the huge retinue ended the day by turning aside to erect tents - including a massive and decorated shelter for the Royal Family. Julius waited until the activity of erection was seemingly completed before approaching the ring of guards around the field.

  All in the little party were decently garbed, and Pontika looked what she was - a female of some higher status than the norm of the streets. Still, the guards standing beside the road did not offer greetings as if expecting welcome guests. The girl was in the lead as one of the pair of men barked, "Fie, mikrí kyría! There is no begging in the contingent of the King."

  Pontika stopped and said with some intensity. "We wish to speak with the Queen Mother."

  Both guards looked at each other with some incredulity. Then the other said, "Aye. And I wish to take cups with the King, to regale him with my stories and japes." He stepped forward, shaking his own weapon at the girl. "Be off now, before I give prick of my point."

  Julius was fearful that he might give the back of a hand to what appeared to the guard as a bumptious Korí, but the girl stood her ground. "I will report to the Queen Mother that her defenders were gracious to a supplicant and anxious to give guidance into the Royal Presence." She held up a hand, in which was a flat object, allowing the two guards to see the detail in the surface. Julius knew what it was, of course - the seal given to the Korí during the... woman-talk, as the meetings between the two females had been called. With widened eyes, both of the men bent to look closer, then straighten in some confusion. "With haste, now. I wish to greet my friend, Kleopátra, before nightfall."

  The guards were in total confusion at the unexpected encounter, but with the evidence of the Royal Seal, they could not refuse a request from a named friend of the Queen Mother. Even were the application made falsely, it would be far safer for a member of the cortege to make the discovery. The quickly agreed that one would guide the girl - and men - to the huge tent, and shortly the party was standing outside the shelter, and before several more guards - these garbed as elites of the detail. Pontika displayed the seal again, and a call was made into the flap of a door.

  Now a familiar figure appeared - Mnesiphilos. With some surprise, he exclaimed, "Kapetánios Clavius! What... Why would you be..."

  "Greetings, good Chamberlain," said Julius. "Our appearance is unexpected, as we know, but our mission is of some importance - aye, even to the safety of the King."

  With some measure of surprise, he waved the party to enter, the said, "Wait here until I give your presence to the King." The inside of the massive tent was curtained to make rooms - or so it seemed from the small entry way they were standing in, and with a narrow vision through the cloth flap that served as a door. In a moment a man entered, but it was not the Chamberlain returning. "Greetings, Kapetánios. You are far from any water - mayhap your ship has grounded and you stranded in our land."

  Julius grinned and returned the jape. "My compliments, Timotheus. We are well met again, and indeed, far from our familiar being." Indeed, it was the Conservator to the throne, whatever that office might entail - the man who had engaged the Petrel to take ambassadors to Latium and unlikely friend of the Thracian.

  "You did not bring Melglos? One hopes that he is still in your employ."

  Now Julius dropped his smile and said very quietly. "He is nursing considerable wounds, and such gives much reason for our suddenly appearing to gain audience with the King."

  The expression of the Greek changed to sober as well. Now in even a quieter tone, he replied, "You are wise to guard your talk. Nothing said in this soft Palace is secret. Remember that in any converse you have with each other - or anyone."

  Mnesiphilos appeared again. "Come. The King is anxious to find your reason for the sudden appearance."

  Julius turned to Flavius and Maccalus. "Find the commissary and gain some food for yourselves. We may not return for a considerable time. If any give objection, give the name of the Chamberlain." Now, he and Pontika followed Mnesiphilos into the tent.

  Like all buildings, this fabric Palace seemed much larger from the inside than without. Far along a curtained hallway, they finally came to a room that had to be at the far side of the tent. Inside were both the King and Queen Mother, changed from their lush habiliments worn for public viewing and into far more comfortable - and much lighter - garb, although either of the robes now worn by the pair would have cost more than a small food kiosk or merchant stall.

  The furniture was simple, if elegant, consisting of a long table and chairs. "Your appearance gives that you have apparently decided to make our land your own, Kapetánios." It was a jest, referring to the beard that Julius now sported. Then she gave a greeting to the girl. "My little Korí comes again. Greetings Minthe... or do you prefer Pontika?"

  "Pontika, for now, Great One," replied the girl with a grin. "I fear that my friends would have confusion at my given name."

  Now the King spoke. "I have belief that your presence is not a goodsome sign, Kapetánios."

  Julius nodded, then said, "May I approach, your Majesty?"

  "Aye."

  In the large room were several servants, maids to the Queen Mother and assisters to the King - far too many listeners for what Julius needed to say. Neither Royal was sitting as yet, and he walked around the table to approach as closely as possible. Then, with his face only a double handspan from the King, he said, "What I need to give is for your ears only."

  The man nodded, turning to bark. "All will leave until called. Mnesiphilos! Empty the adjoining rooms and fold back the curtains that we may have vision of the spaces." The servants instantly backed out of the room, bowing even as they stepped backward. As the two Royals and the man and girl found themselves alone, Julius turned to walk the perimeter of the chamber, looking behind this curtain and that, even into the now exposed adjoining rooms, then finally, down the long hall that lead to the entrance. It was an act to impress the King and his mother, but also for his own knowledge that they were indeed alone.

  Then he took a chair in each hand, placing them together side by side, then two more facing the first. Finally, with a wave, he offered the seats to the monarchs. There was no doubt that the pair was taking his sudden appearance and actions with utmost seriousness. Both obeyed the gesture of the Captain as if they were the commoners in the room.

  Leaning over, and still quietly, he began his tale. "Your arrival into Antioch is expected, but not in the manner that you may be expecting..."

  Chapter 31

  The pace along the road was not with any greater haste - indeed, the time of the evening retirements were even earlier than usual. Pontika now was carried in the litter with the Queen Mother, while a horse was found for Julius to ride along side the King. Following a long night of discussion, on the day that the Romans had encountered the procession, both sailors - Flavius and Maccalus - had left early the next morning to retrace their steps back to the little city of Persidium. The time of march of the Royal Family would be now be dependent upon the return of the two men.

  Julius had made full tale of the rottenness within the retainers and guardsmen at the Island compound in Antioch, but his worry was about those immediately around the Royal Persons. Damascus was almost two thousand stadia away from the lair of Dionysophanes, but if the evil was being initiated by King Tigranes, then nowhere in all these eastern lands could be considered safe or secure.

  As it was almost impo
ssible to gain complete privacy within a gigantic tent partitioned into multiple spaces - and with the internal 'walls' only the thickness of a hanging fabric, any important converse between Julius and the Royal Family was outside, in chairs around which guards were posted out of hearing. But, not all discourse was in such seclusion. Many times the King or Queen Mother gave an unguarded question without first giving ascertain that no servants were near. "...what is the count of men in a Roman Legion?" And, "...is the earliest that we can expect them to arrive?"

  Julius added to the content that instantly spread around the retainers, with such comments as, "...and every Legion carries with it a torture detail. The road between Antioch and Damascus will be lined with men spiked to wooden crucis for their treachery. I myself will nail the limbs of those that have given harm to my men."

  Julius had little doubt that the questions - and answers from himself - flew through the encampment with the speed of foam blowing across the deck of the Petrel in a storm, even amongst those giving loyalty to their rulers. He was also certain that the tales would reach Antioch as fast as a runner could make the distance, especially his oaths that the guardsmen on the island would be first to give their stories to the Cruciator of the torture unit - and probably while stretched out on a rack.

  What was needed now, was indication that the stories were truthsome.

  Eight days passed before the expected message arrived. Julius was beginning to gain concern, hoping that the delay was again the slackness in the sea-wind, but with some worry that the long interval might be for some more violent reason. The runner waited at the entrance to the huge tent as the notice was taken inside. With the King and Queen Mother in presence, Julius accepted the scroll from the man, instantly pulling the leaf from the spindle. His haste was such that he did not consider the number of ears that were in hearing. Quickly, he read, then in a loud and excited voice, said to the Royal Persons, "The front guard of the Legion has made landfall in Persidium. Once the full unit has arrived, they will march on Antioch and give meet to us at the Palace."

  "What is the time for an army of such size to make the distance?" asked the woman.

  Julius waved the sheet as if in dismissal of any such doubts. "A Roman Legion can move as no other army since the beginning of the world. A hundred stad..." He paused to change the distance into the local tongue. "...four leagues will be trod between daybreak and midday."

  That the news was of truthfulness was emphasized by the arrival of traders and men on the road from that small port city. Indeed, they had seen red-garbed Romans, with their huge shields and short swords, moving around to make the city prepared for the vast numbers soon to come on the following ships. Of all in the Royal encampment, only the Rulers and Julius knew that, while the tales of red-appareled soldiers from Rome were true, the 'Legion' consisted only of twenty men and a Centurion, playing their part of an advanced party for a much larger - and imaginary - host.

  The pace was much faster now, the camp being broken at first light and the stop only an hour before sunset - despite the mutterings of foot-sore servants and nobles in their own retinue. Two days later, they had encamped within sight of the city of Antioch. Julius knew that the morrow would give the destiny of the Antiochus dynasty.

  That evening, he called Pontika to walk with him in the half-light of sundown. As they strolled along the road back to Damascus, they passed the myriad of followers - merchants and such that followed the Royal Family wherever they went, and who would soon set up their enterprises in Antioch - if that city existed as a civilized domain by the following evening. "...I would have you keep a steady head on your chine. My worry is of the guards in the procession. If they have been suborned as well as those in the city, then the morrow will be awash in blood. Should evil befall the throne, disappear into the city as the street rat you once were, then make for Persidium. Capitaneus Decimus will stand in every few days to give succor for any of our men needing to flee this land. Have you coin in your purse?"

  The girl was listening with serious attention, but gave her answer in a bright tone. "Aye, and enough for a street rat to live until the feast of Anthesteria."

  He had no idea of that festival but took her answer as satisfactory. "Again, on the morrow, do not let your ears and eyes wander to any celebrations, but to your surroundings."

  "Think you there will be resistance to the return?"

  "I believe not, but despite my sounding of the guard, I cannot give goodly measure of their loyalty - or treachery..."

  He stopped at a call from the road, in the direction of the encampment, turning to see an over-garbed pageboy in full run towards him and the girl. Such exertion was apparently not part of the duties of the young man, stopping to speak but bending over and gagging, apparently to almost heave his belly contents to the dirt. Finally, and with the aspect of a fish thrown to the shore, he gasped out, "Kapetánios... A missive... come for yourself..." He held out a small spindle, then bent to again whoop and gasp at the ground.

  Quickly, Julius unrolled the sheet from the spindle, then held it up to read it in the dimming light. Thinking it over, he finally said to his companion, "Word comes from Heraklides. Our nemesis is apparently with some concern about an army of Rome arriving to adjudge matters."

  "Heraklides knows we are with the King?" asked the girl.

  "Nay. This comes from Persidium and by our usual route. It is..." He held it up again in the failing light, squinting for the moment, then said, "two days old." He tore the scrap of papyrus into pieces, then wadded it to drop into a puddle. "Come. We will take out rest early. The morrow may require much of us."

  The morning was hectic, but the march did not start at once. This would be the regal entry into the city, and with all the rites that such entailed. The guards and servants now wore their court ceremonial garb, as did the many nobles in the procession. Unlike such an event in Rome, it appeared that there was no music in the train, that would have corneum and buccinae blowing a triumphal entry. Rather, there was only a small unit of drums, beating a monotonous step.

  Antioch had no walls, and thus no gates, the way merely changing from a road with a few kiosks on either side to the lesser buildings on the outskirts, then to the dense pattern of structures common to any city. The approach of the Royal Family was not a secret, nor a surprise, and the citizens lined the main Via of Antioch in anticipation, apparently. Julius was carefully studying the crowds, trying to determine if the welcome would be violent or benign. There was no cheering, as would be in a Triumph procession of Rome, but much chattering among the peoples. He saw no indication of either dislike or hatred when the main body with the King on horseback and the Queen Mother passed - she in her litter, but with the curtains pulled up and away.

  Of course, it would be a foolish mob to attack a column with more than two hundred soldiers and guards scattered in units before and after the Royal Party.

  And, of course, there was the common knowledge that a Legion of Rome was unloading from ships, only the part of a day's march to the south.

  The march through the city to the Royal island was noisy but without incident. Or rather, not until the island was reached. Julius was puzzled at the lack of guards on the bridge, and even more at the absence of any of the caretaker retainers in giving welcome to their masters. It was if the entirety of the inhabitants of the palace had fled. However, the impression only lasted until they came to the avenue that looked along the island into the Hippodrome.

  To Julius such would be called the Circus, and it served the same function here as in Latium - gatherings for festivals, races and contests between warriors. He had been told that such occasions were the only times that the common people of the city were let onto the island. He looked around at the retinue following the mount of the King, seeing Timotheus walking in the group of high officials, then changed his pace to allow him to fall back from his position in the train. The others in the group well knew of the favor with the Throne, by the outsider, and moved aside, making
no protest as he matched his stride with the Conservator.

  Quietly, Julius tilted his head down the long avenue, then asked, "Have you knowledge of that?"

  The man allowed a short glance, then said quietly, "Only from gab that I had no reason to hear." He motioned for his companion to step aside to the edge of the road, away from the marching group of officials, but not so far as to give any the idea that some converse might be happening that was questionable. Now, Timotheus pointed down the length of the column in the opposite direction of travel, waving his hand to make a point. It was merely an imposture, as if explaining something to a man not familiar with this land. His quiet words had no correlation to his gesturing. "Selene is said to have sent the Somatophylakes ahead, to gain surprise and prevent any from leaving the Palace - and the island - before they could be... queried."