The Parthian (42 page)

‘So what is preventing them?’ said the third man, a rotund figure with a double chin and fat fingers whose large bulk was wrapped in a toga and who had thick, unruly hair.

‘This is Marcus Aristius, the leading merchant in the city who represents the business class,’ said Gnaeus Musius.

‘We have no desire to attack your city.’

‘He’s clearly a liar,’ sneered Sextus. ‘They obviously lack the means to take the city and hope that by posturing and threats they can capture Thurii by deception.’

‘I can state quite clearly, sir,’ I said, beginning to lose patience, ‘that if we had intended to take this city we would have done so by now. General Spartacus does not wish it so.’

‘General Spartacus?’ said Sextus. ‘This general is nothing more than a runaway gladiator, a deserter who has gathered around him a band of bandits who murder and rape innocent citizens.’ He pointed at me. ‘This wretch should be flogged and then nailed to a cross for daring to stand before such an august body.’

‘That is your prerogative,’ I said. ‘but if you kill me General Spartacus will attack the city and will take it.’

Sextus waved his hand at me dismissively. ‘Empty words.’

‘I do not think that they are.’ I turned to see an elderly gentlemen walk into the apse and occupy the empty seat. He had grey wispy hair and a kind face. I could tell that he held some authority by the way the others stood as he took his seat, then waited until he nodded at them to sit down again. I thought that I knew him, but how could that be?

He looked at me and smiled. ‘You don’t remember me, do you? Not really surprising, as the last time we met the situation was very fraught and I looked rather dishevelled, but allow Quintus Hortonius to thank you for saving him and his family at Forum Annii.’ 

The others sat open mouthed as he stepped forward and offered me his hand, which I shook, and then I recognised him. He had his family were about to be murdered by Oenomaus before I had interceded on their behalf.

‘You know this man, Quintus?’ asked the governor.

‘I do,’ said Quintus, ‘and were it not for his good offices I and my family would have been murdered.’

He took his seat and frowned. ‘Have we foresaken basic manners? Has Roman hospitality sunk so low that we have forgotten basic courtesies? Where is a chair for our guest?’

‘He is a slave, senator,’ snapped Sextus.

‘Is he?’ replied Senator Quintus. ‘I thought I heard him say that he was a prince of Parthia. We can argue about his status later, but does it not offend our Roman morality that we all sit while our guest is left standing?’

Without waiting for a reply he signalled to a clerk, who found a chair and placed it behind me. The senator invited me to sit.

‘You speak for those who are camped outside our walls?’ he asked me.

‘Yes, lord.’

‘What are your terms?’

Gnaeus Musius inhaled loudly and Titus Sextus banged his fist on the arm of his chair and stood up. ‘I must protest. We debase ourselves by speaking to slaves.’

‘Believe me, said Quintus, ‘being helpless while a town is destroyed around you and seeing its citizens butchered before your eyes is far more debasing.’

Sextus sat down, his face red with rage and his eyes full of loathing for me.

‘I ask again,’ said Quintus, calmly, ‘what are your terms?’

It was obvious that he was the senior-ranking person present, which I was thankful for. 

‘We wish no harm against your city. We merely wish to purchase the things we need.’

‘Which are?’ enquired Quintus.

‘Iron, steel and bronze,’ I replied.

‘For weapons, no doubt,’ spat Sextus.

‘Yes,’ I replied, seeing no gain in trying to deceive them. 

‘With which to kill more Romans. This is an outrage, senator, which we should have no part in,’ said Sextus.

‘Under normal circumstances I would agree with you,’ replied Quintus. ‘But these are not normal circumstances. Tell me, Prince Pacorus, if we refuse these terms what action will this Spartacus take?’

‘He will attack the city, lord.’

‘So gentlemen,’ reflected Quintus. ‘it would seem that we have two choices. To do business with this slave general or defy him. If we choose the latter option then we place our lives in the hands of the gods and Titus Sextus. Can you guarantee that this city will not fall, commander?’

‘I am certain that we can resist the feeble attempts of slaves, senator,’ gloated Sextus.

‘Forgive my interruption,’ I said, ‘but the garrisons of Forum Annii and Metapontum thought the same thing, as did the commander of the army we wiped out some weeks ago. The fact is that we are here for the winter, whether you like it or not.’

‘You dare threaten me?’ said Sextus.

‘I threaten no one, sir, I merely point out the situation as it exists at this moment in time,’ I replied. ‘If I may try to assuage you, my general has issued orders that the area we occupy is not to be devastated or unnecessarily molested. This means your vineyards, olive trees and silver mine will all be returned to you once we have left.’

‘Words are cheap,’ said Sextus.

‘Indeed they are, sir,’ I said, Sextus smarting at the implied insult. ‘And we would pay generously for all supplies.’ I added.

‘How do you propose to pay for goods?’ enquired Marcus Aristius, 

‘In gold and silver, sir. And the merchants of the city may set the price.’ I saw his eyes light up and I knew then that I had won him over. His chubby fingers started to twitch excitedly and I smiled at him.

‘If we agree to trade with you, we will want supplies of food to be included in any arrangement,’ remarked Gnaeus Musius.

‘I’m sure that your request could be accommodated,’ I said.

‘And rent,’ said Quintus.

‘Rent, lord?’ I replied.

‘Of course. The land that you occupy is mine, or most of it, and I would be lacking in business acumen if I did not charge you rent.’

‘I would have to liaise with General Spartacus first, but I’m sure he will be conciliatory towards your request.’ Their demands were bordering on effrontery, but I said nothing.

‘I think we need to discuss your offer among ourselves, Prince Pacorus,’ said Quintus. He looked at his Roman companions. ‘I think we can give you an answer by tomorrow morning. I will deliver it to you in person at the western gates two hours after dawn. And now I think our meeting is at an end, unless anyone has anything else to say?’

Quintus looked at each of his companions, but he had decided that all discussion was at an end and no one challenged his authority. Quintus stood.

‘Thank you, Prince Pacorus. The guards will escort you from the city.’ I stood and bowed my head to them, then turned and walked from the basilica, flanked by the same guards who had met me at the gate. I felt a great sense of relief when I walked through the gates and back towards our own lines. I did not know how long I had been gone, but when I arrived back at the gap in the palisade everyone was waiting for me. Gallia ran down the earth rampart and threw herself at me, wrapping her long legs around my waist and holding me tight. I was nearly bundled over as she kissed and hugged me. Our lips parted and I saw tears running down her cheeks.

‘I thought I would never see you again,’ she said. I did not tell her that I had entertained the same thought.

We walked back to the others where Spartacus and Claudia embraced me. As a group of soldiers fastened the poles back into place, we all walked back to Spartacus’ tent, Gallia holding onto to me tightly. On the way I told them about the meeting, about Quintus Hortonius and that I believed they would accept our offer, though it may come at a high price. When I told Spartacus about the demands for rent he burst into laughter. Godarz simply said that pragmatism was an integral part of Roman nature and they were never averse to turning a profit. Spartacus remarked that as long as they supplied what we needed, it mattered little how much gold and silver they wanted as we had taken it from the Romans in the first place. I told him about the garrison commander, Titus Sextus, and how he had wanted to refuse our offer, but Spartacus believed that practicality would triumph over a fool’s lust for glory.

The city agreed to our offer. Senator Hortonius told me of their decision the next morning at the appointed hour. He walked out of the western gates, across the bridge and met me halfway between the city and the palisade (a part of which had again been dismembered to allow me through). He came alone and unarmed, a sign of his trust in me I liked to think. He informed me that Sextus had been vehemently opposed to any deal but had been over-ruled by the governor and Marcus Aristius, who had been seduced by the prospect of a handsome profit. The senator told me that no goods would be exchanged via the city gates, but would instead be shipped to a stretch of beach five miles south of the city where the waters were calm and boats could come and go with ease. He and the others must have spent many hours thrashing out the details of the agreement, for at the end of our meeting he handed me a scroll, upon which were listed the days and times when deliveries would be made, the persons who would supervise the offloading of supplies and the payments for the metals we needed. Deliveries were to made on the second day of every week, at two hours after dawn (a time he seemed to like) and I was to be present at each delivery. He also informed me that the prices for the goods we required were listed on the scroll. Before he left, I told him that I wanted to add a thousand saddles to our list of wants. He smiled and told me he would pass on my request to Marcus Aristius.

A week later the first shipment of iron came ashore at the inlet at the rearranged time. There were four boats, vessels with symmetrical hulls. The sides of their hulls were protected by wales and had wing-like projections that protected the side rudders. They had a cabin at the rear. Also at the stern were the two steering oars, which were controlled by a tiller. Unlike warships, these vessels were powered by means of a single large square sail. Under the terms of the agreement neither side was permitted to have armed soldiers present, so I stood on the beach along with fifty of my men in tunics plus fifty more who waited on a dozen carts, one of which was loaded with a chest of gold, on a track that ran off the sands. The day was calm with a slight wind, the sea as smooth as a pond. The vessels came into the shallow waters and their crews heaved anchors over the side. Then they stood still in the water, their crews peering us. I decided to grasp the bull by the horns and walked into the sea and waded over to the first vessel. The water was shallow and barely came up to my chest. A burly man with a ragged beard and a large grizzled face squinted at me from above. His massive, tattooed forearms rested on the gunwale.

‘Are you the Parthian?’

‘I am.’

‘You’d better bring those carts into the water and alongside each boat. How many have you got?’

‘A dozen,’ I replied.

More than enough. What about the payment?’

‘Loaded on one of the carts.’

He gestured behind him. ‘There’s an official from the city on board who’s to check everything is in order. We might as well start.’

It took us all morning to load the iron onto the carts and load the four chests of gold bars onto the ships. The captain’s eyes lit up as I lifted the lid of the first chest and showed him and the pale and slightly effeminate clerk who had been sent by Marcus Aristius to oversee the exchange of goods. The clerk, no doubt a slave, showed no emotion as he meticulously counted the number of bars in each chest. I was standing beside the captain when the chests were hauled aboard by means of a winch and he saw me looking at the clerk. 

‘A eunuch, that one,’ he sniffed in disgust.

‘What?’

‘They would have lopped off his crown jewels years ago. They like to do that with slaves. Keeps them docile, you see.’

‘That’s disgusting,’ I said. 

He shrugged. ‘If they catch you lot they’ll do far worse.’ He looked at me intently. ‘They say you’re a prince.’

‘That’s right,’ I replied.

‘Then what are you doing with a load of runaways?’

‘It’s a long story.’

He pulled me to one side. ‘I’ve been a sailor all my life and I know the way the winds blow, and I’m telling you that all of you will end up dead. The Romans are unforgiving bastards and they will want revenge for what you’ve done.’

‘You’re not a Roman?’

‘No, no,’ he protested, ‘I’m Cretan. They just hire me and my crew when they need us. If you give me a crate of gold I’ll take you where you want to go, no questions asked.’

‘I’ll bear it in mind,’ I said dismissively. 

He moved closer so no one could hear. ‘Don’t dismiss the offer too lightly, it’s better than being nailed to a cross. Just get yourself down to the docks in Thurii and ask for Athineos. Everyone knows me.’

‘Like I said, I’ll bear it mind.’

After the clerk had tallied everything to his satisfaction, I said farewell to Athineos and we headed back to camp. The iron was taken to a vast clearing that had been made in the forest at the base of the mountains. The chopped wood was used to build roofs to shelter the furnaces that would be used to forge the swords, javelins and spearheads. Slaves who had been used to produce agricultural tools could just as easily turn their hands to making weapons, their years of hammering metals on anvils made them experts in creating blades that were neither too brittle or too soft. In the clearing lines of furnaces were established, each one a having a wide, low chimney with an opening at the bottom to supply the fire with air. The furnaces were filled with charcoal (which itself had been made from the cut-down trees), which heated the iron bars until they glowed red. The bars were then removed from the white heat of the fire and hammered into shape on an anvil. Any brittle metal left on the bar would shatter as it was hammered into shape, showering the smith’s leather apron and his forearms with red-hot splinters. The blade was then quenched in a barrel of brine, to produce a steel blade that would make a
gladius
. Spartacus told me, as we were watching teams of smiths heat the iron in the furnaces and others hammering glowing metal on anvils, that some Romans liked to quench a new blade in the body of a living slave to make the steel harder, or so they believed.