Masters of the Sea Trilogy: Ship of Rome, Captain of Rome, Master of Rome. John Stack

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СКАЧАТЬ and the centurion before him was not.

      He adroitly stood to attention and saluted, slamming his bunched fist against his metal breast-plate, his eyes now fixed dead ahead in regulation fashion.

      ‘Beg to report,’ he began. ‘My master, Senior Consul Scipio, orders you to attend his town house immediately.’

      Septimus waited a moment in silence, a part of him still debating whether or not he should strike the guard for insubordination. The praetorian seemed to sense the centurion’s thoughts and instinctively braced himself for the blow.

      ‘Very well,’ Septimus said suddenly. ‘You’re dismissed,’ he added, realizing that it would be best not to send the guard back to Scipio with a black eye.

      The praetorian saluted again and remounted his horse. He wheeled around and galloped off.

      ‘Domitian!’

      ‘Yes, Septimus,’ the foreman replied as he stepped out from inside the main door from where he had witnessed the exchange.

      ‘Order my personal aide to lay out my kit and have one of the stable lads ready a mount.’

      Domitian acknowledged the command and was gone. Septimus strode to the main gate and watched the messenger weave his way through the throng of people on the street. He turned and entered the house and within minutes re-emerged in full dress uniform. He mounted the horse held by the stable lad and cantered out through the main gate.

      Atticus approached the town house of the senior consul slowly, the winding streets keeping his mount down to a trot. He had followed the praetorian messenger from Ostia, relying on the guard to guide him to the city and to the senator’s house within. Atticus was a creature of the wide open expanses of the sea; whereas he could plot any course on the featureless water using the sun and stars, his sense of direction failed him completely in the enclosed streets of Rome. As he turned into the walled courtyard of Scipio’s town house he saw Septimus standing near the entranceway into the atrium beyond.

      ‘About time,’ Septimus called up. ‘I’ve had to wait here until you arrived.’

      Atticus nodded a smile, knowing that the centurion was probably burning with the same curiosity as he was.

      ‘Any idea why we’ve been called now?’ he asked as he dismounted beside Septimus.

      ‘No. I only know from the news I heard on the street when I passed through the Forum Magnum that the Senate has approved the building of a fleet and both Scipio and Duilius will command it.’

      ‘Duilius?’ Atticus asked as both men passed under the entrance into the serenity of the atrium.

      ‘This year’s junior consul. Owns half of the land straddling the city and stocks most of the markets from his fields.’

      Atticus nodded, realizing that he knew very little about the most important citizens of the city and the main players in the Senate.

      The praetorian guard commander was waiting for them inside.

      ‘Come with me,’ he ordered brusquely, although his rank was no higher than the captain or centurion’s.

      ‘Friendly as ever,’ Septimus murmured.

      The commander led them through a series of rooms, some obviously for entertaining guests and dining, and others that seemed to serve no visible purpose other than to display the artwork and statues adorning the space. The house was expansive, the simple courtyard and atrium deceptively small given the depth of the house. They came upon Scipio under the shade of an awning in an inner courtyard. He was sitting alone, apparently deep in thought. He did not look up as the three men entered.

      The guard commander peeled off and the men of the Aquila approached alone.

      ‘Captain Perennis and Centurion Capito reporting as ordered,’ Atticus announced as both men snapped to attention.

      ‘Ah yes,’ Scipio said, looking up as if noticing them for the first time.

      ‘The Senate has decided to build a fleet of one hundred and fifty triremes. You are to report to Publius Cornelius Lentulus, the master shipbuilder in Ostia, and assist him in this task, specifically to relate to him your experience of the enemy and their capabilities.’

      ‘Yes, Consul,’ both men replied.

      They waited for a further command but none was forthcoming. Scipio looked back down at his notes, seeming to forget the two officers. A full minute passed.

      ‘You’re dismissed!’ the senior consul finally said, and Atticus and Septimus turned on their heels and left.

      The two men retraced their steps through the house back to the main courtyard where a stable lad held the reins of their horses.

      ‘By the gods, Septimus …’ Atticus breathed, his face a mask of astonishment. ‘One hundred and fifty galleys. It’s a mammoth task. It’ll take six months at least and then they’ll have to find men to crew them all.’

      ‘Atticus, Atticus …’ Septimus chided with a smile, amused by his friend’s astonishment. ‘Look around you, man. Look at the city that has been built here. Built by Scipio and others like him in the Senate. If they have decided that one hundred and fifty galleys are to be built, then built they shall be – and not within six months either. They know the threat is more imminent and the ships will be needed sooner. I’ll bet the deadline is half that time and the crews are already being levied as we speak.’

      Atticus shook his head, disbelieving. Surely the Senate had set too big a task for Rome to complete.

      Septimus looked up at the sun. It was an hour after midday.

      ‘We still have time to meet this master shipbuilder today,’ he said as he mounted. Atticus nodded and mounted his own horse, wheeling it around to follow Septimus out through the main gate. In his mind’s eye he tried to picture such a massive armada. He could not. His logical mind told him it wasn’t possible in the time they had. In six months the campaign season would be over and Sicily would be strewn with the starved bodies of the Second and Ninth legions. At best they had three months to break the blockade.

      Septimus’s words echoed in his ears as he rode back towards the Forum Magnum and his eyes were drawn up to the magnificent buildings that surrounded the central plaza. They were truly the work of great men; determined men who set themselves a task and followed through regardless of the cost or consequences. Perhaps his friend was right; perhaps the Senate had set Rome the task knowing she could respond in kind. As his mind debated the mission ahead he subconsciously spurred his horse to a greater speed; his innate impatience to get started drove him on and he brushed past Septimus to take the lead. By the time they cleared the Porta Flumentana on the road to Ostia, their horses were galloping at full tilt.

      ‘Here they come again!’

      Marcus Fabius Buteo spun around in the direction of the shouted warning in time to see yet another cavalry charge from the woods to the left of the marching column.

      ‘Form up!’ the centurion roared, and ran to position himself at the head of the lead transport wagon, the maniple’s signifer running behind him, the standard becoming the pivot point of the formation.

      As СКАЧАТЬ