Calgaich the Swordsman (53 page)

Calgaich's spear was dragged from his hand by the falling body of a watchman whom it had penetrated.’ Calgaich drew his sword and laid about himself to clear some space to get back to Garth, who was fighting singlehanded against three watchmen.

Lutorius got up onto his feet and reached for his sword. He staggered a little as he turned toward Calgaich. A watchman closed in on the hazy Lutorius. Bron charged. He leaped into the air and came down on die back of the Roman, who was carried to the ground by the weight of Bron. A quick thrust of Lutorius's sword kept the Roman down.

Sandals beat on the pavement as a knot of barbarians charged from the river embankment to reinforce their comrades. Calgaich led them back toward where Garth was still holding his own. Garth's sword pierced a Roman's throat. Before he could withdraw his blade a Roman spear drove into his back. He gasped and went down across the body of Girich.

Ottar the Saxon charged past Calgaich. His sword lashed out like strokes of lightning to fell two Romans. The remaining Romans turned to flee.

“After them!" Calgaich shouted. “Let no one escape!"

The fleet-footed barbarians easily ran down the slower Romans. It was all over in a matter of minutes.

The barbarians stood in the street, breathing hard and grinning at each other.

“Into the river with them!” Calgaich commanded. “Keep their shields, helmets and weapons! Wipe the blood from the pavement!”

Calgaich turned to retrieve his spear from the body of a watchman. Girich stood there with Garth in his arms. There were tears in the Pict's eyes. “He died for me, Calgaich,” he said brokenly. “I will not throw his body into that stinking river as if it were Roman shit!”

“Take him aboard. We'll bury him in the clean sea,
if
we get that far.”

The river barge,
Isis of Geminus
, was moored to the embankment. The Tiber had been steadily rising all that day because of severe summer thunderstorms in the foothills of the Apennine Mountains. Its yellow, turbid flood, swollen with rainwater, swirled in strong currents.

“Fray those mooring lines through to make it look as though they broke from the pressure of the current against the barge,” Calgaich ordered.

They were all aboard now. Ten oarsmen took their seats, five to a side. They looked expectantly at Calgaich.

Calgaich took the tiller. “Nepos! Get up forward and warn me of any dangers ahead. Cast loose the barge! Fend off forward and aft! Out oars! Give way together 1”

The rushing current caught the clumsy flat-bottomed barge and swung it out into the middle of the yellow river. The long heavy oars dipped into the water and the barge seemed to lurch forward with each strong stroking of the blades. The
Isis
shot past the wharves that lay downriver from the stone embankment of the Emporium.

Lutorius looked up at Calgaich from his position at port stroke. “Will we make it before dawn, barbarian?”

“We have to, Bottle Emptier.”

Cairenn came up from below. She came aft to stand beside Calgaich.

“It's not safe up here, woman,” Calgaich said.

“It stinks down below, Calgaich.”

“The stink of the river is not much better.”

“But the air is fresher,” she argued.

“Go below!” Calgaich snapped.

She shook her head and smiled sweetly. “In
my
condition, Calgaich, for which
you
are truly responsible, it’s not easy to keep one's stomach down. I’ll stay right here.”

Calgaich looked away from the grinning faces of his oarsmen. Cairenn sat down at his feet and rested her back against the low railing of the barge. She had lived through too much to return to the role of a pampered woman as she had been in her father's
rath.
The many weeks she spent fleeing with Calgaich, first from the Picts and then from the Romans, had left their mark on her. The months lived in the service of the treacherous Morar had taught her the value of freedom and independence. She would
choose
to stay by Calgaich when she felt it right. It was right that she stay near him now.

The creak and grind of the oars mingled with the expelled breaths of the oarsmen. Now and again Calgaich would look back over his shoulder toward the east, looking for, but hoping he would not see the first faint traces of the false dawn etching the serrated tops of the great Apennines.

Suddenly Nepos waved his arms. “Ostia looms!” he called.

The farms and villas on the banks of the river began to give way to the outlying buildings of the port city.

The river banks were now confined between houses and other buildings. Boats and barges were moored to the banks. No one was to be seen. No lights showed. The city seemed to be asleep.

It was still dark when they eased the
Isis
into a mooring place in the inner harbor of the port city.

Calgaich went quickly over the side of the
Isis,
followed by Lutorius, Chilo and Nepos.

Nepos led the way with a catlike sureness through the twisted, narrow streets of the slum area of the city. They reached the place where Calgaich had last seen the graceful
Lydia.
She wasn't there.

“We’ll have to take another vessel,” Lutorius said.

All of the moored vessels were larger, heavier and clumsier-looking than the Greek-built
Lydia.
Calgaich looked up at the sky. It had lightened almost imperceptibly. “Lugh of the Shining Spear,” he prayed. “Help us this day. Help us to find the
Lydia”
He closed his eyes for a moment.

“Calgaich,” Lutorius called softly. “There she is.”

The
Lydia
lay moored just forward of an immense grain ship that had thrown her into deep shadow. Ahead of the
Lydia
was a swift-looking, double-banked rowing galley.

Calgaich dropped lightly onto the deck of the
Lydia
. He walked to the small cabin built over the afterdeck and quietly opened the door. The cabin was dark. While easing in through the doorway, he felt something sharp press against the small of his back.

“Don’t move,” Cunori warned. “What do you want?” Calgaich grinned. “Take the knife point from my back, Dolphin, and I’ll tell you.”

Cunori gripped Calgaich by the shoulders. “Thanks to the gods,” he murmured. “Have you come here with your grandfather?”

Calgaich shook his head. “He’s dead. Some of us have escaped from the city under the cover of the Saturnalia. There isn’t much time. It will soon be dawn.”

“I can’t believe this! After all these months!”

“It’s true. Is the
Lydia
ready for sea?”

“Always! Those were the orders of your grandfather.” Calgaich nodded. “He knew far more than I expected he did.”

Calgaich sent Nepos and Chilo back for the others. “Look!” Lutorius cried. He pointed to the east.

The faintest of graying light showed over the heights far to the east.

Calgaich and Lutorius worked swiftly under the instructions of Cunori to prepare the vessel for sailing. Chilo came back to the
Lydia
followed by Cairenn, Bron, Lexus, who helped Fomoire along, and Guidd One-Eye. By the time the
Lydia
was ready to leave, all the others were aboard. The last to board had been Girich, bearing the stiffening body of Garth, the Silurian harper.

Cunori shook his head dubiously. “We’ll need more food stores and water, Calgaich. I never expected you to bring so many passengers.”

“We can’t afford to take the time now.” '

“Once we leave here, Calgaich, the alarm will be out. We won’t be able to touch land for stores and water until we’ve passed through the Pillars of Hercules. Perhaps not even then, for Hispania is occupied by the Romans.”

“We leave now! Rather die at sea from hunger and thirst than to risk capture here today!”

The moorings were cast loose and the
Lydia
was fended out from the quay. The harbor was still in darkness but here and there lights showed on some vessels and from buildings along the long quays.

“What ship is that?” a harsh voice suddenly cried from the high stem of the bireme moored ahead of the
Lydia
.

Cunori cupped his hands about his mouth. “The
Lydia,
of Ostia, bound for Nicaea, sir!”

“On what business?”

“Pleasure, sir. This is the private vessel of the honored senator Rufus Arrius Niger.”

“Is he aboard?”

“He is, sir.”

“Let me speak with him.”

Cunori laughed softly. “He'd have my head on a platter if I awoke him at this hour. Too much Saturnalia, you understand?”

“Have you reported your sailing to the harbor master?” “Yesterday, sir.”

There was a moment's silence. “Well, get on with it then! See that you don't wake up the whole harbor in the process!”

“No fear of that,” Cunori said out of the side of his mouth.

“What ship was that?” Calgaich asked quietly.

“That's the naval bireme
Fortunata,
the fastest galley in these waters.”

“Faster than the
Lydia?”

“Not under sail, but with her oars and sails together she'll outrun any vessel in these waters.”

There wasn't a breath of wind stirring in the predawn hush. The sweep oars of the
Lydia
ground in their locks as she was rowed out of the congested inner harbor through the narrow channel into the larger outer harbor. There wasn't a ripple on the water as the
Lydia
forged toward the harbor entrance. The eastern sky was lightening more rapidly now. It was very quiet except for the creaking of the oars and the chuckling of the water at the prow. Cunori looked sideways at Calgaich. “I still can't believe it. All these past months I thought I would be here at Ostia the rest of my life, serving some Roman.”

Calgaich shrugged. “We’re not even out of the harbor yet.”

“Aye,” Cunori agreed, “but we are free of these cursed Romans. We may never reach the open sea beyond the Pillars of Hercules, but we can die at sea before we let the Romans take us prisoners again.”

Calgaich looked into Cunori’s serious face. He looked at the faces of the oarsmen—Lexus, Conaid, Chilo, Loam, Lutorius, Niall, Ottar, Girich, Nepos, and Eogabal. None of them, or those others who were hidden below decks would let themselves be taken alive.

The Lydia
met the slow and easy swell of the open sea as she passed the colossus beyond the harbor entrance and then rounded the southern tip of the separate curved mole that protected the channel entrance.

The stroking of the heavy oars had an uneven effect and the harsh breathing of the oarsmen was louder and more irregular. The
Lydia
began to plunge a little as she met the low, smooth onshore swells. The sea was lightening with the coming of the dawn. The sun slowly tipped the mountains and the sea became golden in color.

“How long before the alarm reaches Ostia?” Cunori asked suddenly.

“It’s thirteen miles by road, Dolphin. A fast horse can make it in an hour. Why?”

“Look behind you, Calgaich.”

They were a good two miles beyond the outer mole by then. A large vessel was rounding the southern end of the mole. Her double bank of oars dashed against the water throwing up glittering spray.

“A merchantman?” Calgaich asked.

Cunori shook his head. “A naval craft.”

“The
Fortunata?”

“I think so.”

“Maybe she’s going elsewhere?”

“No. I know now that I made a mistake back there at the harbor entrance.”

“How so?”

“I left the harbor by the southern end of the outer mole”

Calgaich was puzzled. “So?”

“Nicaea is to the north and west. We were seen leaving the harbor by the tower lookouts on the outer mole. Probably, they signaled the
Fortunata
as she came out of the harbor. As soon as her commander knew we had left by the south entrance he would know damned well we weren't heading for Nicaea.”

“Can she catch us?”

“Yes. The galley is double-banked, as you know, and her oarsmen are fresh and more skilled in their trade than our barbarians, who are tiring. There is no wind to fill our sails.”

Cairenn and Fomoire came up on deck. Cairenn helped the weakened Druid to a seat. She chatted with him and managed to bring a wan smile to his gaunt face. Her laughter rang out and some of the oarsmen turned their heads to see her. She turned to smile and then lifted her eyes to look at Calgaich. A stab of intense pain seemed to shoot through Calgaich. It was nothing like one of the many wounds he had suffered in his warrior life. It was a sickening feeling that seemed to well up from deep within him. If the
Fortunata
caught up with the
Lydia,
Calgaich himself would have to put Cairenn and her unborn child to death before he died on the deck of the
Lydia
with reddened weapon in his hand.

The sun rose higher and higher. Its heat smote mercilessly down on the sea and the bodies of the toiling oarsmen. The
Lydia
moved sluggishly across the smooth swells of the sea like an ant crawling through a pool of honey.

Cairenn took the tiller of the steering oar while Cunori and Calgaich spelled some of the more tired oarsmen.

The
Fortunata
crept closer and closer. There was no doubt in the minds of the
Lydia's
crew that the bireme was pursuing them.

Hour after hour the chase went on. White puffs of clouds appeared in the sky as the hours dragged past. In the distance could be seen the sails of Ostia-bound becalmed sailing vessels dotting the sea.

The
Fortunata
was almost within hailing distance when the smooth surface of the sea was ruffled by cat's-paws of wind coming from dead astern of the two vessels.

Cunori cupped his hands about his mouth. “Hoist the mainsail and the foresail! Step lively or we’ll have the Romans spitting on our afterdeck within the hour!”

The sails were hoisted and began to fill, a little fitfully at first. After a time a steady breeze began to blow and the sails swelled. The oarsmen stayed at their stations, although some of them were so tired they seemed asleep, moving back and forth in rhythm like automatons.

The
Fortunata
hoisted her sails. But by then the lightness and swiftness of the
Lydia
had become apparent. Steadily she pulled away from the ungainly
Fortunata
.