Captain of Rome by John Stack

Author:John Stack
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fiction
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2012-01-30T15:05:05+00:00

Septimus shielded his eyes against the harsh light of the early afternoon sun as he came up onto the main deck, its unfettered light reflecting off a million wave-tops and the white canvas sheet of the main sail. He turned his face into the cooling tail-wind, drinking in its freshness, allowing it to cleanse his lungs. It had been more than eight hours since he had been top-side and the vastness of the space around him emphasised the suffocating confines of the cabin below where Atticus lay unconscious.

The sound of drill commands caused Septimus to turn and he smiled as he watched Drusus put his demi-maniple through their paces. The optio was a hard taskmaster and Septimus was glad he could rely on him as much as he did. Beyond the men training on the main deck, Septimus spotted Vitulus alone on the fore. He was watching the legionaries intently, no doubt studying the differences in their training from that of the standard imposed on the legions. Septimus watched him for a minute and then suddenly realised he had not spoken to the guard commander since the night before when Varro had dispatched him back to the village with the three locals.

Septimus walked around his men and made his way to the fore, nodding at Drusus as he passed, an affirmation that the optio seemed to ignore. Septimus smiled inwardly. Drusus was as tough as they came. The centurion walked over to Vitulus and turned to stand beside him, facing his men on the main deck once more.

‘What happened last night?’ Septimus asked.

‘I have given my full report to the tribune,’ Vitulus replied icily.

Septimus turned to Vitulus, surprised by the dismissive reply and he squared up to the legionary.

‘Listen Vitulus,’ Septimus said, suddenly angry. ‘My friend was attacked last night and I’d like to know what happened.’

Vitulus turned to Septimus to reply, ready to dismiss him again, but he hesitated, wary of the look in the centurion’s eyes. He wondered if it were better not to antagonise the marine considering he would find out what Vitulus had reported sooner or later.

‘We found nothing except a dead street-trader,’ he replied.

‘That’s all?’ Septimus asked incredulously.

Vitulus nodded, sticking as close to the truth as possible. ‘He was dead, knife wound to the face, probably caused by your friend.’

‘And what about the legionary?’

‘There was no legionary,’ Vitulus said. ‘The villagers were lying.’

‘Lying?’ Septimus said. ‘Then how do you explain the captain’s wounds. He didn’t get those from a street-trader. Atticus is too good a fighter.’

‘Before the fight your captain was drinking in the tavern. Maybe he was drunk. Maybe that’s why he provoked the fight in the first place.’

‘How do you know he started the fight?’

‘Some of the villagers told us,’ Vitulus replied. ‘They said the Greek started an argument over the price of the trader’s food. He turned really nasty and drew his knife. Typical Greek if you ask me.’

Septimus held his tongue. Now he knew something was wrong. There was no way Atticus would do such a thing.

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