* * *
It took the rest of the day to prepare for the journey home. A team of soldiers, sent to a rocky promontory high up to the west, burned the unwanted timber and rope. The smoky fire burned slowly and a huge cloud of smoke drifted upwards almost vertically into the grey sky.
When all was ready, they rowed us away for there was little wind. The ship rocked intolerably to my mind, as I stood in the prow of the first bireme. The grey overcast sky looked down on the three little ships as they bobbed in the cold, green water. Sea birds followed in the wake of them and I looked south. The smell of the salt air stirred those memories that still plagued me, as we headed slowly west on the return to Sinope.
'Not exactly an adventure was it?' Junius said, joining me.
'No, but I think we'll all get something as a reward. Maybe they will promote us?'
'In this legion the only way to get promoted is through battles. If they lose too many Centurions, the likes of us have a much greater chance, once our enemies make a little room at the top for us.'
'What's that?' I pointed at the horizon to the north.
'I can't see anything.'
'There. Right away as far as you can see. I'm sure I can see something.'
'Yes maybe. What do you think it is?'
'I don't know, maybe just some traders?' I said as we stood staring at the horizon.
'They seem to be heading this way. They're getting larger.'
We went to the cabin and reported to Meridius, who came up to see.
'They could be any kind of ships. I can see at least three. With our cargo I don't want to run into ships of any kind.'
'Can we outrun them?' Junius said.
'Probably not, if we could out sail them, they wouldn't have appeared on our horizon. They have to be faster than us.'
The three of us waited in silence for a few minutes and Meridius went to speak to the captain.
'I'm surprised it took you so long to see them. My men have been aware of them for half an hour already, but they could be any kind of ship at this distance,' said the captain, a burly, salty, seaman of vast experience.
'We have good reason to avoid other shipping, you know that.'
'Yes, but we may not be able to avoid them if they really want to catch up with us. The weight of the cargo slows us down. We could always pitch it overboard…'
'Would you like to explain to Lucullus how we pitched his Pontic treasure overboard in case there were corsairs on out tail? You can’t be certain it's the corsairs anyway.'
'Judging by the rate they're gaining on us it could well be the corsairs, although they usually wait in the coves and sail out as soon as they see a ship pass. These have come from the north so presumably they were headed in this direction on purpose, possibly even days ago.'
'We head west then?'
'Yes west is the safest. We can't put ashore anywhere, the coast is too rocky. We might be able to hide in a cove but the approaches to them are dangerous with strong currents.'
'If we could land, we could fight them on foot. I have almost two centuries aboard these ships.'
'We have no time to land. We run,' the captain smiled as he said this, a grim smile that betrayed little hope.
Junius and I walked unsteadily to the prow. We were heading west and all we could see was a long line of monotonous craggy coastline. The breeze began to get up and the captain had the single square sail hoisted, but it only stiffened occasionally and the sailors at the oars had to maintain their rowing efforts in between. To me it felt as if our boats were limping compared to the speed of the approaching ships.
The distance between the pursuing ships and our three biremes began to shorten. We could make out that there were at least six ships, a trireme and five biremes but they were moving fast and closing the gap quickly. The main fighting force of all three ships began to prepare for a fight. There were ballistae mounted at the front of each ship. The ballistae crews brought up the massive iron bolts from below and stacked them, ready for use.
The approaching ships were closing. I could make out the sails. Even the oars became visible. The tension rose inside me. We loosened our swords in our scabbards and adjusted our armour. We removed the leather covers from our scuta, the large oblong shields that were a legionary's best friend. They were a protection for most of the body at one time. Pila were handed out, two to a man. We did not know whether they could be used effectively at sea.
There was a shout from one of the seamen, who kept watch from the cabin roof.
'Ships! Ships approaching from the port side!'
I glanced over my left shoulder. To my horror, I saw four more ships. They emerged from a sheltered headland where they had clearly been hiding in a cove. They were sleeker and narrower than the Roman ships and had two banks of oars. I recognised the ships immediately as the same as the one that Junius and I had been imprisoned on only months before. I made up my mind then that I would rather die than let them capture me again to feel the lash on my back while I slowly died from exhaustion and hunger.
The corsair's ships split into two groups of two. The left-hand pair headed for our ship at the front of our little convoy. Each of the remaining two selected one of the other Roman ships. There was a terrifying feel to the way the corsair's ships cut through the waves. Their oars were in perfect unison. It was almost as if they pulled those oars pulled mechanically, for such was the precision of the rowing.
The distant ships continued to approach fast. It was clear we were caught in a trap. We were vastly outnumbered and I had a sense of passive helplessness as the two corsair ships approached. The first was heading to the front of our bireme. The second was clearly on a collision course, with an intention of ramming our ship. The corsair ship was only two oars length away, when the captain slewed our ship to the left. The ramming ship failed to make contact. The forward of the two attackers however was now close to the starboard side and within grappling range.
They threw large, roped, triple hooks and used them to pull the two ships together. The sound of cracking and splintering oars filled the air, as the two hulls became one, married like dovetailed planks. Our ballistae fired but each bolt took precious time to reload so only two rounds each were loosed into the gathered corsairs on the decks.
Meridius stood on the deck with his now assembled half century of men as Junius and I formed up in our ranks. We had donned our helmets, grasped our shields and we all stood in four ranks of ten facing the starboard side of the ship. There was no Centurion aboard and we relied on the Optio to take his place.
The deck of the corsair ship was full of men. They waved curved swords and screamed. They were ready to board. It seemed a long time before the two ships drew close enough together for the first corsairs to jump the gap.
'Stay formed up and use your training,' shouted Meridius above the screaming and grinding.
We stood shield to shield with our short gladii ready as the first corsairs ran across the deck. A short stocky man came straight for me. He raised his sword above his head as he ran. He swung his weapon downwards. There was no particular skill, straight at my head. I raised my shield. It caught the blow, creating a dent in the top edge.
I stabbed forward. I struck him in the throat. The blood spurted over his leather jerkin for they had no armour. As he fell, I realised there was no time to ponder my kill. Two more replaced the man within seconds.
Discipline clicked in. Like the components of a mechanism. Raise the shield, push forward, stab with the sword. When your man is down, stab the man to your right. Then start again. It was automatic to us Romans. The hours of weapons drill made each movement a reflex. We could continue in this fashion for hours. It was what we were there to do. It was our only real function and we did it efficiently.
Waves of corsairs. They rushed at the line of shields. Each time the result was the same. Side by side, we thrust our shields together. We stabbed with our blades. Over and over again. The deck was slick with blood and urine, until we wer
e even struggling to keep our feet, on the slippery planks. The bodies began to pile up. The attackers were climbing over the corpses of their comrades. The Roman line remained unbroken.
At the flanks, the corsairs had also attacked. Their lines were longer than the ten-man formation, but they fared no better. The Roman shield wall was almost impenetrable to them. We were calm and mute. This was work to us. It was no cause for anything but silent, determined action.
A grinding sound suddenly interrupted the fight. The whole ship quaked and shook. I realised that the second corsair vessel had come about, as I recovered my footing. The corsair ship had approached from the other side and had either rammed or come alongside hard. I had no time to look. A tall bearded man, who snarled as he tried to stab with his curved sword, faced me. I parried easily and pushed my shield forwards. The man stepped back, but with Roman discipline, I remained in the line. To break the line was to be replaced by the man behind and become separated. I smiled at my opponent, who quickly became frenzied in his attack. He raised his sword and brought it down. A rapid, rabid succession of strokes. He was trying to bring down my shield, but to no avail. I saw my opportunity. In the heat of the moment, I half stepped forwards very fast. I felt my sword penetrate his midriff, I twisted the blade and withdrew it. A gush of blood jetted from the wound. As the man fell, I stepped back.
'Don't step forwards again,' shouted Junius, he had realised that his side had been exposed. I heard my friend and smiled for I knew the truth of it.
The two rear ranks turned. There were now two lines, two deep, fighting back to back. Blood ran across the deck and made the footing difficult, but the iron studs in the soles of our sandals kept us stable. Meridius stood back to back with his Optio on my right. Our small Roman force was now beset on all sides. There must have been a hundred corsairs encircling us and Romans began to fall, the line slowly shrinking.
Half a dozen sailors armed with swords and small shields were defending the hatch that led to the lower deck, but they were hard pressed too. Men screamed; the deck stank of blood, death and offal. The little battle progressed in this fashion for what seemed to me to be an age.
Then with an incomprehensible suddenness, madness took me. The movements blurred. My sword arm felt like steel. My head filled with a clarity I had never felt before. I moved mechanically and read my opponents as if I knew their every pending movement. Push, cut, thrust, was all there was in the world. Men fell before me. They clutched at wounds in throat and groin and chest. Blood flowed. Men screamed screams of death and pain. Battle-rage, tireless, bloody, noisy battle-rage consumed me.
Still the corsairs ringed our small group. Our numbers shrank all the time until only a handful of us remained. Junius, Meridius, and I, grim faced and bloody, were among them.
Then Junius slipped on a blood slick. He was down. Two corsairs seeing the big Roman fall, stabbed in his direction simultaneously. Meridius warded off one blow with his sword, the other with his shield but too late. One of the blows had landed. A slashing, cutting blow that laid open Junius' scalp to the bone. Meridius felled the man with a cut to the throat. The man fell away turning, staggering and bloody.
Meridius exposed his side then. The first corsair, hungry for a kill, thrust his blade forward. He pierced the Tribune's chest in the side beneath the armpit. Blood ran from the wound but Meridius seemed to feel nothing. He turned as the corsair withdrew the blade and he snarled. He felled his attacker with a single forward cut to the throat. His knees began to tremble and he fell to one knee, still fighting with sword and shield.
I stepped to his side fending off blows and thrusting with my gladius. Junius had recovered his footing and was battling next to me, blood flowing from his head wound obscuring his vision on the right. We exchanged sides.
We survivors stood back to back, a handful only remaining. They had reduced us to no more than a quarter of our strength. The corsairs paused; they had now a respect for the Roman shields and armour. It was borne of the deaths that littered the decks. They were pulling bodies away so they could renew their attack.
It was then that a certainty came to me. The ship juddered and shook. More ships, the ones sighted first, had come. They grappled alongside the corsair's ships. I knew then, fresh fighters spelled the end and I was determined I would not be captured alive again. I gripped my sword and shield, ready for death.