BOOK 2

BLUETOPAZ: THE WAR YEARS

CHAPTER 3

I found sailing very much to my liking. Unlike some of the others, I gloried in the sight of the waves parting as the bow knifed through them. And, the wind! The light but steady late Spring breeze from the south filled the sails and made my heart want to take flight with it.

I had thought that once at sea there would be little to look at but I was wrong! We passed a steady string of islands. Some so small they were little more than the tip of a mountain top emerging from the sea. while others, were large enough to support a small group of people. Fisher folk, I was told by one of the crew. When I expressed surprise at seeing the islands, the crewman, who seemed very eager to share his knowledge, replied, “Have you not read the history of your homeland? There are as many or more islands in this part of the sea as there are to the South and East of Greece. Have you heard the myths about monsters and moving islands and Sirens singing to lost sailors? Here is where all that was supposed to take place. It’s all poet’s foolishness, of course.” He said with a raspy chuckle. “When the islands are shrouded in mist one can almost imaging them moving from place to place. Or, when one suddenly appears before you the craggy cliffs might resemble some other worldly monster.”

“And the singers?” I asked, delighted at the easy and entertaining banter of the seaman.

“Ah, the Sirens!” He said leaning on the railing. “I’ve never heard one, and I’ve been at sea better than twenty years but I have heard the tales. I suppose there’s some logical explanation for it. One fellow I knew swore that it was just the wind making strange sounds as it blew across the cave mouths in the island cliffs, Like those yonder.” He concluded, pointing at several dark indentations barely visible in the cliff face that fenced the nearest island.

“Like Shepherd Pipes!” I replied with a grin.

“Yes,” he responded with a warm smile. “Very large pipes but the very same idea.”

He hurried off then, to attend to some function of sailing the ship but I stayed by the railing hoping to hear the great pipes from the island. Perhaps the wind was blowing from the wrong direction that day for I heard nothing except the raucous calling of the birds that followed the ship and slapping sound the canvas sails made as the wind shifted slightly and bore us further from the island chain.

Glancing down at my feet I saw the chamber pot I’d been sent to empty and so guiltily, I dumped the contents overboard and hurried back below decks as a good servant should.

“Kayla,” Lady ‘Cidea greeted me at the door of her quarters as I returned. “Did you have trouble finding the sea?” she said tartly, for the benefit of any sailors
passing by.

“No, Lady Megra.” I replied, “I had to wait for the wind to shift. You remember what happened to Phyone the last time.”

“Yes,” she said closing the door behind us.” That has taught us all to be more careful in an unfamiliar environment.”

We had decided to begin to use different names for some of us, since we had acquired a certain amount of notoriety in the recent years. Lady Placidea decided to use her grandmother’s name, Megra. I took the name of my cousin, Kayla. It would be easy to remember and since it was an Amazon name it would allow me a certain freedom of dress that would not be available to ‘Cidea and Phyone. It also gave me leave to be in possession of a sword and the knowledge of how to use it.

Dorus, would be known as Lord Apollodorus, a common enough gentleman’s name. It was close enough to his own name to cover any slips but far enough from it to, we hoped, not raise suspicions from others. Amsel, Rudd and Arn’s names were obviously not Greek so we devised Greek ones for them. Arn became Baptos, because he is a colorful person with the bright yellow hair and startling blue eyes. Following the same reasoning Amsel, our little back bird became Melanthes and Rudd decided to use the name Lusin. Pallas and Phyone, we felt, were little enough known that they could safely use their own names.

Being careful to use our assumed names while on the ship would get us used to answering to those names as well as acquaint the sailors with them. We counted on them to spread the tale of our journey once we reached Aquileia.

The entire journey was quite uneventful other than one day when dark storm clouds advance on us from the south. Lampres, knowing every league of the coast line, found us shelter between three very small islands. In a quiet, deserted cove we sat out the storm with little inconvenience other than my inner impatience at losing most of a day going nowhere.

The wind following the storm front was especially brisk and my helpful crewman explained that we were making up most of the time we’d lost due to the storm.

We arrived at the port of Aquileia in the early afternoon. After dropping the sails, Lampres ordered the men to extent the oars and slowly we crept through the harbor entrance and up to the wharves which jutted out into the calm water of the harbor.

Dressed in their finest clothes Lady ‘Cidea and Dorus looked very convincing as Lampres escorted them down the gangplank and onto the solid stone of the wharf. Pallas looked very fierce as he made a big show of guarding the persons of his Lord and Lady and Rudd, busily making notes on a parchment scroll even as he walked, followed behind them. Then the rest of us, in no particular order, left the ship. Each of us carrying a large bundle of what was supposed to look like the Lord and Lady’s personal belongings.

Lampres was really in his element as he greeted several people he knew as we walked down the long stone pier towards the buildings clustered on the shore. “Dom!” He shouted at a Roman Centurion supervising the construction of a new pier next to the one where our ship was securely moored. “What luck!” he said turning to his uncle and then remembering to add, “Your Lordship.” as the pleasant looking Roman officer returned his greeting and walked towards him.

“Lord Apollodorus, may I present Centurion Domhnull of the VI Roman Legion.”

Dorus inclined his head to the officer although his tight lipped smile said volumes about his distrust of Romans in general.

“Dom, I have the honor to present you to his Lordship, Apollodorus of Naupactus.” Lampres said and then added, “He is accompanied by his wife, Lady Megra.”

The Centurion, apparently not noticing Dorus’ coolness, grinned broadly and extending his hand grasped the forearm of the Lord with a firm grip, “’Tis a pleasure to meet you, Lord Apollodorus” and nodding politely to the lady added, “I trust your voyage was pleasant, Lady Megra.”

Lampres, attempting to fill the noticeable pause in conversation as Dorus failed to respond to the Centurion’s greeting, said, “Lord Apollodorus is here to open negotiations for a trade agreement between himself and one of the merchants in Aquiliea.”

“I had understood,” the Centurion said carefully, “that tensions had eased somewhat in the south but was not aware that you Greeks were in a position to resume regular trade. This is a pleasant surprise.”

“Somewhat,” Dorus replied, equally carefully. “We are still troubled by small bands of raiders but the armies of the city states are well able to handle them.”

“And,” Lampres added with a laugh, “you know us Greeks, Dom. If there’s a chance for some fair trade, we’ll be there to take our part in it!”

“Aye,” the centurion said, chuckling, “You Greeks are well known for that!"

And,” Lampres said, laughing along with the Roman, “You Romans are well known for you love of our good Greek wine!”

“I cannot deny that!” the Centurion said and then changing the subject asked, “You’ll be taking them to see Master Marcus?”

“Indeed!” Lampres replied. “Marc is the closest thing to an honest man in this city and I did promise to bring these good folk safely here and introduce them honest folk to do business with.”

The Centurion’s men who, out of curiosity, had ceased working and gathered behind their leader, roared with laughter at Lampres remark.

At that point I did not know if that was a good sign or an ill one. One thing I did know was that the baggage was getting very heavy at that point and I was getting very tired of the extended “polite” conversation with the Roman Centurion! He might be a friend or at least a drinking “buddy” of Lampres but I couldn’t see the point of all this chatter. If we had to do the polite thing with every acquaintance of Lampres, we’d never get to see Master Marcus and find out those things we desperately need to know.

‘Cidea glanced questioningly over her shoulder at me. My reply was a very slight movement of my chin towards the inland side of the pier. A barely perceptible nod of her head told me she understood.

“My dear,” She addressed Dorus while tugging on his sleeve, “Perhaps you Gentlemen could continue your conversation out of the sun and in the comfort of Master Marcus’ receiving room.?”

Immediately the others apologized for keeping her standing and, with a grand gesture, Lampres led us up a stone paved road. The city was built on a series of hills overlooking the harbor. The road, no doubt Roman built, marched straight up one of the tallest of the hills and we were obliged to do so also, while carrying the necessary supplies we’d brought from the ship. Our labor was not without reward. As we stood at the top of the hill, we gazed down on one of the many branches of a great river as it flowed sedately through the heart of the city. And spanning that branch was the most magnificent bridge I have ever seen!

Arn, his mouth gaping open at the sight, mumbled something in fractured Greek liberally laced with his own native tongue about The Gods building bridges. I didn’t quite catch in all. The Centurion, however must have understood some of it since he shook his head and replied, “Not the Gods boy, only a Roman Engineer.”

“You?” Arn asked still with the awed look on his face.

The Centurion laughed and replied, “Someday perhaps, I’ll be able to build that well but no, not me. No one remembers his name but his work speaks for him better than any plaque or memorial and it tells me he was the master builder that all engineers should try to follow.” With that thought in mind we all picked up our burdens again and walked down the shorter incline to cross the beautiful bridge.

“Master Marcus’ place of business and residence are just to the other side of the bridge.” Lampres said to us as we crossed the soaring arch and peered down at the small boats that crowded the river.

“It’s almost like another road through the city.” ‘Cidea exclaimed as she watched the boats being rowed, poled or sailed under the bridge.

“Indeed,” Lampres replied, “It is probably the busiest road in the city. Here is the house of Master Marcus.” He concluded as he led us through a gateway and into a walled garden filled with trees, flowers and sparkling fountains.

A large man in plain brown robe met us as we entered the gateway. “Welcome, friends! Welcome to my humble home!”

So that was the amazing and mysterious Master Marcus. He was not at all what I had expected!

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