Romans on the Silk Road Read online

  Lucius recollected a recent discussion with the two boys when he had mooted the option of joining the legions, an honorable career open to them both. Marcus responded eagerly, with a somewhat childish conception of heroic deeds and adventures in unknown lands. The boy had long cherished a fascination with the East; of all his mother’s precious ornaments the piece he admired most was an Oriental brooch made from lapis lazuli depicting a leaping tiger. However, this was far from Lucius’s mind as he remembered Flavius’s alarming response. The young man had smiled sweetly whilst replying that he would rather cut off his own thumb, simultaneously bringing his elegant left hand down swiftly onto the right as it lay on the table as if to illustrate the amputation. Lucius had heard about this practice amongst the more effete circles of young nobles who preferred this mutilation to serving in the army. Without their right thumb it was impossible to hold a sword or javelin and thus they would be refused entry to the Army. Indeed, some young nobles even boasted of their shameful amputation, flaunting their disfigurement as a badge of ingenuity. Whilst Lucius could not be certain if his eldest son was in earnest or not, he knew from bitter experience how stubborn and precocious Flavius could be. This journey had provided yet another example; Flavius had resented the fact that two whole weeks of his precious holiday would be consumed by the trip, and it would mean missing one of the elaborate parties, which were the highlight of his calendar. Flavius had flatly refused to accompany his father, and it was only by withdrawing Flavius’ credit at his tailor that Lucius had coerced him into coming on the trip.

  Sighing deeply, Lucius allowed the sea breeze to blow away these concerns as he filled his lungs with the freshness of the sea air. Standing beside him Marcus subconsciously mimicked his father, filling his youthful lungs and enjoying every moment of the voyage. The two stood there till long after the sun had passed its zenith, and the smaller shadow of Marcus extended beside that of his father in front of the galley, pointing towards their destination Ostia. The boy’s actions and barely concealed excitement brought a half-smile to the weather-beaten face of Petrus, the venerable captain of the Albatross, a man as rugged and scarred as the galley was smooth and sleek. Turning towards him, Marcus approached to greet the revered sailor, for the two were firm friends. Petrus’s smile spread across his face and he delivered a report to the boy with mock seriousness;

  ‘Well Captain Marcus, the wind is blowing well and the sail has been set so I have given the slaves a rest from their oars, the weather looks set to hold till nightfall at least and the cargo is all securely stowed in the hold.’

  ‘Thank you Petrus’, replied the young boy, ‘and what about my brother?’

  ‘Um…well sir… he was feeding the fishes, Captain,’ replied Petrus after creasing his brow in the search for an appropriate euphemism.

  ‘What do you mean Petrus?’ asked the boy, nonplussed at the sailor’s attempt to be polite.

  ‘That is to say he was being sick over the stern, sir. He has retired to his cabin now. It seems he hasn’t the stomach of a sailor, though he has certainly acquired some of a sailor’s language! From the curses he was heaping on my fine Albatross and these little ripples of waves you’d take him for a veteran of twenty years! Quite where he learnt such language I’d not like to guess.’

  ‘Oh…, yes, well, best say nothing of it to my father,’ remarked Marcus.

  ‘Of course not Captain,’ replied Petrus with a grin.

  ‘Now, tell me about how you got that one’, asked Marcus, indicating one of the silvery white scars which crossed the broad tanned chest at his eye level. For Petrus spent half the year bare-chested, he took off his shirt on the last day of spring, and refused to put it back on till the first winter rains came, claiming ruefully that his long-suffering wife was so tired of stitching up the tears and washing out the stains that she could only be brought to do so for half of each year. The result was that his powerful torso was tanned a deep mahogany, off-set by the silver-white of his many scars and the greying hair which seemed to match the color of the scars.

  ‘Oh, that was where I caught myself on a nail in the shipyard’, replied Petrus as his face creased into another large grin, for his modesty was as famed as his scars, and he always gave the same reply when asked about the origin of his wounds. It was left to others to point out that all the injuries he had sustained were on his chest and arms, with none on his back, just one indicator of the bravery for which he was also well-known. Resigned to that fact that he would have to ask the other crew for the story behind that particular scar, Marcus went to check on his brother in their quarters.

  A shout of alarm reached Marcus just as he was descending the ladder to their small cabin. He scrambled back on to the deck to see what had caused the commotion that was erupting all around him. The Albatross had rounding a headland with the wind filling her sail to find a large ship with a flotilla of smaller craft waiting in ambush. The boat’s darkened hull marked it out as a pirate ship, only the pirates painted their hulls dark to help them camouflage against the shoreline and hide from the Navy patrols. Around it there lurked the scavengers who accompany any large predator. This pack had probably been tipped off about the Albatross’s departure, for the water rats had informants in all the major ports and this was a carefully planned ambush. The ship and the small rowing boats were waiting 50 yards apart. They were positioned so that when the galley turned to its port and tried to flee out to sea the pirates could simultaneously approach on both sides and swarm over their victim. The pirates would be able to use the wind, which was channelled down the valley and blew out into the bay to catch up with the heavily laden galley.

  The large patched sail of the pirate ship had been unfurled as soon as the galley rounded the point, and it was clear that the off-shore wind would soon bring the pirates in towards the galley. Meanwhile the smaller craft were manoeuvring to approach the galley on the other bow. It was much harder to repel boarders from both sides, so the pirates always tried to attack in unison. It was precisely to avoid this trap that Petrus steered the galley in towards the coastline; as he shouted to the overseer to calm the panicking slaves. Petrus used the vessel’s momentum to plough into the smaller boats. Caught unawares by this aggressive move, the scavengers were suddenly on the defensive against a much larger craft charging headlong into their midst. Although the Albatross did not have the submerged iron-clad beak which the military galleys used to ram enemy craft, it was still a sturdy boat built from the dense oak of the Luberon forests, and with a hold full of timber the Albatross had a considerable amount of momentum. As the galley charged into the first skiff it crushed the light boat under its keel with almost no discernable check to its progress. The others boats scattered as swiftly as they could, withdrawing out of range of the arrows which Lucius was loosing from his position high on the prow. As the Albatross had a full crew, Lucius did not have to command the galley so he had quickly strung his bow and taking a quiver full of arrows he had positioned himself on the prow to defend his boat, cargo and sons.

  Although the scavengers had scattered they refused to disperse, their greed kept them hoping for plunder, even though it had become apparent that this would be no easy prize. Around the Albatross’s prow floated the remains of the destroyed skiff and the bodies of two pirates pierced with arrows. The bucking deck had made a mockery of Lucius’s normally fine marksmanship; for when a wave lifted the prow it sent his arrow flying high over the target and correspondingly each trough caused his arrows to fall short, harmlessly plunging into the sea. Despite this difficulty some of his shots had found their mark, as evidenced by the red pools slowly spreading out from the floating bodies in the water.

  Meanwhile, the pirate ship was busy turning in response to this unforeseen charge by its prey. On board the Albatross, the panic-stricken slaves had been quietened and set to working their oars; back-paddling furiously the galley was able to decelerate enough to avoid crashing into the rocks, for the p
irates had been waiting close to the shore to conceal their position for as long as possible. Expertly steering the craft to hug the coastline, Petrus started to take the galley back out of the bay. The pirate ship had now altered its course and was bearing down on them. Even with the slaves rowing at maximum tempo, the heavily burdened galley could never outrun the lightly-laden pirate ship, which possessed a much larger sail as its sole means of propulsion. Meanwhile Lucius had moved to the stern and was waiting with an arrow already cocked on his bowstring for the pirate ship to come within range. The slaves pulled fervently at the oars, all too aware of the terrible treatment they could expect if the pirates captured them. Stories of the cruelty and maltreatment of slaves in the slave markets outside the Roman Empire were well publicized. It was even suggested by some that they were exaggerated in an attempt to prevent Roman slaves from trying to escape. Yet despite their best endeavors the Albatross could not outpace the pirates, for although the galley was expertly built it was burdened with a hold full of timber and stores, goods that were too bulky to be jettisoned to buy the craft any extra speed. The great weight which had enabled the Albatross to charge into the smaller craft now proved a disadvantage as the galley endeavored to flee from the pirate ship.

  The scavengers had regained their courage as it became clear that the pirate ship would overhaul the Albatross. The small craft entered the chase and moved forward in a pack; none were sufficiently audacious to venture ahead of the group, yet their greed forced them to keep level with the others lest they should miss any loot. As the pirates closed to within range, Lucius began shooting in earnest. He was all too aware that he was fighting for his craft, his life and a valuable cargo which included his beloved sons. By this time Marcus had run to join his father. The preceding action had taken place in a matter of minutes and Marcus had been so shocked he had stayed rooted to the spot. Now seizing a spare bow, Marcus struggled to fit the string; but even with his full weight leant against the bow he could not bring the loop at the end of the bowstring into place. Lucius saw his son’s efforts and stopped to help him, taking the bow in his calloused hands he fitted the string with one controlled movement. It had crossed Lucius’s mind to send his son below deck out of the way of any danger yet he was painfully conscious of what would happen to the handsome boys if they were captured, and every hand on deck would help prevent that dreadful eventuality.

  ‘The deck’s moving with the waves so it’s hard to aim,’ shouted Lucius above the grunts of the slaves and the loud beat of the drum going at full tempo to give the time for the oar strokes. ‘Wait till we’re on the crest of a wave then shoot before we drop down,’ he instructed.

  Marcus’s first few shots plunged into the sea in front of the ship, or soared too high, making small mocking rents in the sail and rigging of the ship. With concentration he quickly learned to feel the rhythm of the waves beneath his feet, taking up the tension in the bowstring as each wave lifted the galley and then firing in unison with his father when they were poised momentarily on the crest of the wave. The timing was crucial and the strokes of the straining rowers would sometimes disrupt their rhythm when the oar stroke happened to coincide with the crest of a wave.

  The gap was closing fast when one such piece of timing occurred; just as the galley rose up on the wave’s crest the rowers heaved on their oars and pulled the galley down the wave. As the prow dipped down and the stern rose, both Lucius and Marcus shot too high and their arrows sped harmlessly into the ship’s sails. The pirates had soon become wary of the pair of archers and were planning the tortures they would inflict on them once they had captured the galley. Looking up with the next arrow already notched onto his bowstring Marcus noticed something had changed. The pirate ship’s sail was flapping loosely and uselessly on the port side. It appeared that an arrow had cut one of the stays which attached the sail to the yardarm. The square sail was now only fastened in three of the four corners, while the remaining corner was flapping uselessly in the wind. With the sail still attached on both corners of the starboard side but only one corner on the port, only half of the sail was being filled by the wind. With the unbalanced force from the damaged sail, the pirate ship was veering off course. The pirate captain spotted the problem and shouting to his men to repair the rigging, he took control of the steering and tried to compensate for the drift off course. Father and son both realized the advantage this fortuitous shot had given them; Marcus continued to take aim at any of the pirates who attempted to reattach the sail, whilst Lucius now took deliberate aim at the rigging. With the full force of his powerful arms behind each arrow, his shots thudded into the mast and bored neat holes in the sail, yet none of these shots managed to disable the sail or further slow the pirates. Lucius pulled out one of the three feather fletches which guided each arrow, this made the arrow spin in its flight. These spinning arrows did greater damage to the sails, but it was not until they were running low on arrows that one lucky shot caught the main stay and sent the entire yardarm and sail falling onto the deck of the pirate ship. The chase had taken them out of the bay and as the other pirates saw the disabled ship withdraw from the pursuit they immediately lost their eagerness and hung back.

  Once out of range of those dreaded arrows the pirates set about hoisting the yardarm and replace the rigging, but by this time the Albatross was clear of the bay. It was obvious that Petrus had understood the significance of this and he steered the galley back towards Massalia. The crew had lowered the sail on the Albatross, and under the power of the oars the galley was able to head directly into the wind, a course which the pirates were unable to match as they were totally dependent on sail power.

  With an overwhelming sense of relief, Lucius watched the pirate sails diminish into the distance as the rowers settled into a steady monotonous rhythm which took the galley away from the bay. As this relief settled, Lucius reflected just how much had been at stake, and he resolved never again to risk his sons, his business and himself all in one venture. With Marcus safe and standing beside him Lucius turned his attention to check on Flavius, who had not been seen throughout the engagement. Both father and son climbed down into the hold to ascertain what had become of him. The cabin door was locked fast and no answer came to their hammering. At first their calls had been good-natured and jocular, but as no answer was made they became increasingly alarmed. Lucius was about to force an entrance when the sound of a loud splash was heard distinctly. Marcus climbed back onto the deck and ran to peer over the side. The sight that beheld him caused his face to split into a mix of amusement and concern; with a puzzled shout to his father he stooped and took off his sandals. When Lucius reached the top of the ladder it was to see his youngest son dive gracefully over the bow and strike out towards something on the port side. Petrus had seen the boy dive over and had ordered the rowers to stop, the galley continued away from Marcus for a short while but it was soon drifting back with the wind. Marcus had reached the colorful object by this time, and it proved to be the curious spectacle of Flavius floundering in the water with his most treasured cloaks and tunics in his arms. These were of bright and vivid hues and the thrashing about of the young man was creating a riot of colors as the clothes became tangled together.

  Flavius was not a strong swimmer and it was clear that he was having difficulties as the sea water soaked into his bundle and pulled him down; yet he obstinately refused to let go of the clothes and as a result he was being pulled down with the water-logged garments. With the assistance of Marcus the two were able to secure the clothes and tread water until ropes were thrown from the galley and they were pulled back on board. Flavius’s subsequent explanation, that he thought the galley had been taken by the pirates and he had tried to escape, merely confirmed Lucius’s notion that Flavius resembled his mother in character as well as appearance. With a wry smile he thanked the gods that Flavius had not known about the bag of gold coins hidden in the cabin, for the boy would certainly have taken that with him and his tenacity and
avarice would have caused him to drown before he would relinquish his grip on such a large sum.

  With the boys safely back on board, and Flavius’s treasured clothes spread out to dry, they were able to continue on their journey. After rowing for a few more hours Petrus swung the galley round and steering a course far out into the sea they headed east again, giving the bay a wide berth as the sun set behind them. After such an action-packed start the rest of the voyage passed in comparative tranquillity; some rough seas on the third day caused Flavius to provide some more fish food, but otherwise they had an uneventful trip. In the eyes of Marcus their arrival and disembarkation at Ostia failed to overshadow the excitement of the pirate attack, and he spent hours discussing every details of the encounter with anyone who was willing to listen. After registering with the port authorities and reporting the incident to the Navy, they hired horses and left for Rome. The journey of nineteen Roman miles was easily accomplished along the straight paved road, which followed the Tiber upstream to Rome.

  They had three days to explore the city whilst the Albatross unloaded its cargo of timber and filled the hold with wines and cloth to be sold in the market of Massalia. Lucius chose an inn and lost no time in depositing their luggage and taking the boys out to explore the city. The journey in from the countryside past the factories and workshops around the city’s limit had somewhat prepared them, but the shock of entering the heaving metropolis was still considerable. Multitudes of people thronged the streets as Lucius lead the boys towards the city center. They were going to the Games, to see the famed gladiators and the other wonders which were organised to entertain the people of Rome. Whilst work had only just started on the Coliseum, the existing arenas were still far larger than any of the buildings in Massalia, and the trio marveled at their size. In subsequent years cynics, priests and philosophers alike were to declaim the fact that Rome’s greatest architectural achievement was dedicated neither to religion nor learning, but to entertainment for the masses. Yet the Games and horse races were also an important cohesive factor for the diverse population of Rome. The same spectacles were enjoyed by people of all ranks, from the lowest auxiliary soldier to the wealthy tribunes and consuls, for the arenas were open to all and at a price that made them easily affordable.