Now, they were alone in the hold, facing each other, Lucius’s shackles looped around one of the support stanchions, Barca carefully standing just outside of Lucius’s reach.
“So, this is goodbye, Centurion,” Barca said, his face full of amusement. “I would have enjoyed seeing you squirm under my whip a little longer, but, alas, your time has come.”
“Why have you brought me here?” Lucius asked, though he was certain he knew the answer. He was simply stalling for time, as he kept a wary eye on the dagger in Barca’s hand, waiting for him to make a move.
But Lucius was surprised when Barca put the dagger away in its sheath. Then, chuckling to himself, the overseer hung the lantern from a nearby hook, set the key to the shackles on top of a nearby cask, just out of reach, and then climbed back up the ladder, still sniggering as he disappeared from view. Lucius did not know what to make of it at first, but then quickly deduced that he had been set up to be murdered.
Then, he heard someone coming from further aft, huffing as they moved with great haste along the walkway running down the middle of the ship. Lucius realized that the sound was that of a woman’s exertions just as the young, noble lady, the passenger he had often seen on deck, rounded the nearest stack of crates, white-faced and distraught. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Lucius. She glanced at his chains and appeared confused for a heartbeat before fright overtook her again.
“Please!” she said desperately. “Someone is right behind me! You must help me!”
Lucius held up the shackles and pointed to the key left by Barca. The slightest pause crossed her face as she evidently contemplated whether she should release a bound slave who, for all she knew, might do her as much or more harm than those following her. But, her fear of her pursuers won out, and she scrambled for the key.
She was a moment too late. Loud footfalls announced the arrival of her pursuers who came around the corner and made a dash for her. There were three of them, all wearing marine helmets with the faceplates drawn such that their features could not be seen. Lucius concluded that these men had either borrowed or stolen the helmets because their tunics were finer than any he had ever seen on a marine.
The woman tried to scream, but one of the attackers had his hand over her mouth instantly. The woman struggled to the point of hysteria as the helmeted brutes fought to gain control of her flailing arms. While the larger of the two dealt with her, the third, a man with slight shoulders, turned his attention to Lucius. Seeing the shackles on Lucius’s wrists, the man walked calmly towards him, drawing out a pugio dagger as he came. He was a fool, who should have given more respect to his opponent, because Lucius was playing an old trick, standing closer to the stanchion and pretending that his chain was shorter than it actually was. When the man came within the reach of the chain, still confident that his prey was restrained, Lucius took a full step away from the post and swiftly brought his bare foot up into the man’s genitals. The dagger fell to the floor as the man cried out in pain. He began to crumple, but Lucius reached out with one arm, took hold of the helmet, and quickly placed him in a choking headlock. The feeble man was not skilled at hand-to-hand fighting, and was completely at Lucius’s mercy, thrashing wildly, batting vainly at Lucius’s massive arm. A few more moments and Lucius would have squeezed the life out of him, but one of the others was suddenly there and bashed Lucius across the back of the head with a small cudgel. The next moment, Lucius was face down on the deck, seeing white spots, his head throbbing. He managed to open his eyes in time to see the woman utter a muffled scream and then fall limp in her attacker’s arms. A few steps away, the smaller man knelt on the deck, coughing violently beneath his helmet as he clutched his crushed genitals in one hand and his damaged neck in the other. The man who had struck Lucius now picked up the fallen dagger and raised it to finish the job. Lucius fully expected to feel the dagger in his spine in the next moment, but what happened instead made him wonder if the blow to his head was harder than he had originally thought.
A great cry came from seemingly everywhere at once, as if the entire compartment, indeed the ship, wailed in a demoniac howl. The three attackers looked at one another in confusion and then at the surrounding darkness. Then, out of the shadows, came a hair-covered, ape-like form that moved with a swiftness that was difficult to follow. It moved from one shadow to another, and the three men turned this way and that in an effort to follow it. Lucius heard the man holding the still form of the woman cry out in terror as a giant hand came out of the darkness and grasped him around the neck, squeezing him until his comrade with the dagger came to his aid, striking the hairy arm with the blade and forcing it to withdraw back into the shadows.
“What in Pluto’s infernal regions was that?” one of the men exclaimed.
“Wait! Listen!” said another. “Voices coming from the ladder well. The beast’s cry must have alerted the watch. We must flee!”
“Where to? We don’t know where that beast went!”
The voices descending the ladder were getting louder.
“Go, now!” coughed out the smaller man. “Back the way we came. I’ll be after you.”
Lucius was vaguely aware of the man grunting over him as he used the key to remove Lucius’s shackles. The man then limped off into the shadows behind his comrades, still clutching his groin.
Lucius had not understood why the man had unshackled him until the marines of the watch arrived, discovered the lady unconscious and Lucius mere paces away, and jumped to the obvious conclusion. They immediately laid into him, kicking him several times in the ribs as he struggled for breath, cursing him for attacking a noble woman of Rome. He did not feel most of the blows, as they shackled him once again. But then he noticed that the noble woman’s handmaid was also there, the hood of her cloak drawn over her head as she knelt beside her mistress’s still form. The hood turned once to look at Lucius, and he could see that the eastern woman’s face was set in an expression of confusion and anger. Lucius saw her thin features clearly in the lantern light, and again it awoke a memory within his aching head. But this time, he realized who she was. He remembered precisely where he had seen her before.
And now he understood why both he and her mistress had been marked for murder.
XX
The next morning, Libo awoke to the mundane routine of an admiral at sea. After reviewing countless dismal reports, each reminding him of the shortages throughout the fleet, he left the scant breakfast in his cabin for an even more dismal task, one that he never relished.
There had been mischief in the night. Lady Calpurnia had been attacked in the hold. The night watch had found her there, lying unconscious beside a dazed slave – her apparent assailant. By Juno’s grace, poor Calpurnia was unharmed, though her dress had been torn in many places, and she had been frightened to the extent that she had fainted. She was now resting in her quarters under the watchful eye of her handmaid. As to the slave, it appeared he had suffered some injuries, and that was peculiar, since Calpurnia was such a petite woman. But regardless of how peculiar the circumstances, a noble woman had been attacked and such a sinister act could not go unpunished. On a ship the size of the Argonaut, where a score of unruly hands might move the entire crew to mutiny, such affairs must be dealt with swiftly and openly, that all may take notice and despair at any thoughts of similar behavior.