—OOO—
'Aboard Ship'
'Piraeus—Tinos—Lesbos'
Chapter 2a of 4.
"What kinda' boat is this?" Gabrielle stared dubiously around the cluttered deck.
"It's a liburnian." Xena spoke off-handedly, being more concerned with their luggage of which they each had two heavy bags as well as various other items.
"Ha! A liburnian." The doubtful Amazon voyager continued to examine the vessel unhappily. "That's just a generic name. Covers a multitude of sins. What kinda' boat is this really?"
Her voice had risen as she became more grumpy and a short thick-bodied man standing nearby now stepped up to their side on the busy deck.
"May I introduce myself? Barrius, Master of this ship." He smiled pleasantly at the two passengers, without failing to notice their weapons with his sharp grey eyes. "Yes, she's a liburnian. A nice fast ship. But you're right to say that's just a title. She's really a large pentekontor. I can muster 25 oars a side, single-manned. That will possibly explain the large crew you see milling around, and the somewhat high cost of your voyage. These men don't feed themselves, you know."*
"Talking about that, perhaps we could have a quiet chat." Xena looked ostentatiously around the flat deck which ran the length of the boat, above the rows of oars and their crew. "Somewhere private?"
The master shrugged noncommittally, but nevertheless ushered the women towards the stern where a ladder led them down past the rowers to the lower deck and the passenger accommodation. He took them along a short corridor and into a wide cabin lit by a small heavily shuttered, though now open, window looking out over the stern. Its main furnishings being a large desk set in front of the window, and a bunk set into the port wall with cupboards beneath. There were also a couple of light chairs of Roman design.
"A small place, but I call it my own; at least while we are at sea." The master leaned against the edge of his desk and waved them to the chairs, but only Gabrielle took up his offer. "So what can I do for you? I'm sure you can't complain about the cost of your voyage. After all, the coast of Mysia is a considerable distance away."*
"Barrius, I got a proposition for ya." Xena obviously felt that getting right down to it was the order of the day. "How many other passengers are sailing with us on this voyage?"
The weather-beaten features of the stocky man remained expressionless while he considered this question; then he smiled good-humouredly.
"Well, as you'll be meeting them soon enough I can tell you there are four other passengers." He scratched his stubble-covered chin. "A man calling himself Polycrates of Styra. Tall, middle-aged, wears a dark moustache to match his hair; and speaks in a drawl, with great confidence. Tried to sell me shares in a mercury-mine in Macedonia—but I said no."
"Damn good job, too." Gabrielle couldn't stop herself frowning in anger as she spoke. "You'd never have seen an obol of it again. That—"
"Yeah, yeah—whatever!" Xena butted in hurriedly, to stop any further revelations of their own connection to the King of Thieves. "Who else?"
"A merchant and his young son—going to Mysia for trading purposes." The seaman paused to consider, looking from one woman to the other. "And a lady going to Mytilene, on family business I suppose. That's the full list this trip. So, what's your purpose madam?"*
"I was sorta wondering about your route North." Xena gave a dis-interested shrug, which fooled no-one in the room. "Goin' past Ceos and through the Andros Strait, no doubt."*
"Yeah." The master nodded, raising an eyebrow somewhat curiously. "It is the straightest, most common route to our destination, after all."
"Ah well," Xena nodded in her turn. "that's just the point. Too common—too well-known. If someone, let's say with dark intentions, was to follow or wait for us that's the route they'd cover ain't it?"
Barrius now began to realise that the tall dark woman, heavily armed as she was, had some ulterior motive which could easily affect his voyage; if it had not already done so.
"Dark intent!" Barrius thought about the possibilities for a moment, then eyed Xena attentively. "That's the sorta thing that could turn out nasty for a ship making a long voyage. Perhaps I should think about returning your money, and callin' it quits? I'm sure there are other—more specialised—captains who'd be willing to make a deal with you."
"Maybe so—but not as quickly as Gabrielle and I need." Xena glanced at her Amazon companion, sitting quietly listening to the conversation. It always, strangely, made her nervous when Gabrielle was silent! "We don't have the time to wait for a suitable boat or captain. We got a schedule to keep. So, you're here—we're here—this is it!"
"What, then, do you want of me?" Barrius frowned dubiously. "I do not like being harangued by people who know nothing of the sea and its ways. I see you think of taking some other route to Mytilene? Are you aware of the time that would be lost in doing so? The inconvenience to the other passengers? The extra cost. I have to feed and water my crew, you understand."
Xena walked to the rear of the cabin and looked out through the open window. A portion of the wharf with the busy dockside life of Piraeus was visible in the bright sunshine outside, while light reflected glintingly from the green water under the ship's stern.
"Well, perhaps your other passengers aren't so important that a few more days at sea will inconvenience them all that much." Xena turned to gaze at the seated master. "I think an arrangement might well be possible. Ya see it's like this, Gabrielle and I have to be in Mysia within a coupla weeks. Now, I know you could easily be there in three days taking the Andros Strait route, but there is someone—let's call him not quite an enemy, but not quite a friend either—who will try to intercept us if we take the common route. Therefore we gotta be careful, devious—we need'ta take a circuitous route, the long way round, for safety's sake. And I'll pay ya a good price for whatever other route you think possible."
Barrius rose to stand before the tall woman and looked right into her blue eyes. He showed no outright opposition to the deal; but neither did he show any great interest. He laid a hand on the edge of the desk and tapped lightly on the oak surface with his fingers, as if it helped him think.
"You realise I do not lease this boat." He gave a quick look around the comfortable but sparsely furnished cabin. "Neither do I work for a company of merchants. I own this boat myself, so can do as I please—always taking into account the safety of my crew and passengers, you understand. What terms were you thinking of. And you know it will possibly nearly double the length of the voyage—maybe as long as five days."
"300 drachmas—over and above the 25 drachmas we've already paid for our passage." Xena spoke coldly—as if making an offer he could not refuse.
"300 drachmas!" Gabrielle, finally impelled to take part in the discussion, jumped up in an instant—and a tizzy. "Have you gone mad, Xena?"
"Keep your top on, darling." Xena sniffed imperiously; she so couldn't understand Gabrielle's tendency to hang onto the sesterces, or drachmas as it might be, at all costs. "A mere business proposition. Nothing outta the ordinary. It's a fair price."
"A mere—a fair price." The blonde Amazon sank back into her chair with open mouth. "The knock on the head you had from that last warlord we fought three weeks ago musta rattled your brains, sister."
"So, what d'ya say?" The Warrior Princess returned to the business in hand; bravely ignoring the ensuing sounds of discontent, outright criticism, and some lethal swearing from other parties present. "It's an offer that'll give ya a good profit, never mind what your ordinary cargo is. What route do you thinks' best, then?"
"I figure the Tinos Strait—North of Syros—would be the best choice." Barrius nodded slowly as he considered this dramatic change in plans. "It'll eventually take us past the West coast of Chios, then on to Lesbos itself. Yeah, that'll be the best way. Alright, I accept your offer. Have you got the money with you?"
—O—
"Xena, what do you think you're doing?" Gabrielle was not amused. "I didn't realise we had more money than Croesus himself. I mean, 300 drachmas! 100 would still have been too much."*
The women had retired to their cabin amidships. It was roomy and positioned on the port side, with a firmly bolted round window which Xena had immediately opened to let in some light. A small table; a couple of chairs; and two bunks were the main furnishings. Most of the rest of the floor space being taken up with their luggage; of which the most important was a loose canvas shoulder-bag containing something heavy. This Xena had placed at the foot of her bunk, and the women now stood considering it.
"It's all on expenses, Gabrielle." The warrior shrugged nonchalantly. "The messenger from the Senate gave us a whopping big money-pouch to see us through, remember?"
"Yeah, but it's still the Government's money, not ours." Gabrielle could always see the downside where money was concerned. "We gotta account for everything we spend, y'know. And 300 drachmas for a voyage from Piraeus to Mytilene that would normally cost 12 drachmas each is going to raise questions, and blood pressures, back in the Senate-House when they find out."
"Well, we'll just have'ta deliver on our promise, then." Xena seemed at ease with how things were going. "No need to panic yet. When Tros hoves into view over the horizon with his trireme, then you can panic."
"Do you believe there's any chance he'll attack us?" Gabrielle frowned as she sat down on her bunk. "I mean, what'd the people on this boat ever do to him?"
"He wouldn't think twice before sinking us and letting everyone aboard swim for their lives." Xena curled her lip in a cold sneer. "If it meant giving the Roman authorities a black eye he'd jump at the chance. He once told me that, while he would never kill a helpless man in cold blood, he didn't think it necessary to find out if someone could swim before throwing him overboard! That being a question between his prisoner and the Gods!"*
After having sat open-mouthed for a few seconds at this awesome anecdote Gabrielle whistled in astonishment; an act which made Xena jump and hold out a hand towards the unsuspecting Amazon.
"Don't do that, Gabrielle."
"Do what? Whistle? Why? Don't you like the tune?" When on a roll the blonde-haired one liked to cram as many questions into a sentence as possible.
"It's a sorta superstition with sailors." Xena raised an eyebrow. "They think it summons adverse winds or storms—so for the Gods sakes don't do it on deck, please!"
"OK, I get ya. But to return to Tros—this is a Greek, an Athenian, business." The Amazon regarded Xena, with an enquiring tone in her voice. "How does he make it a Roman thing?"
"He takes the view Greece isn't much more than a Roman Province these days, Gabrielle. Even you gotta admit that." The dark warrior shrugged. "Tros figures that everything the Greek Senate does or orders is at the behest of the Roman satraps and generals—which isn't far off the mark."
"So, you believe Tros is going to come after the helmet—even if it means attacking this small boat?" Gabrielle crossed her arms over her knees, where she sat.
"Yep, without a doubt." Xena glanced over at the small window. "Somewhere out there he's waiting with his trireme. He's an excellent sailor—my plan to head South to the Tinos Strait is good, but maybe not good enough to fool Tros. He has a nasty habit of putting himself in his opponents' position, and thinking ahead!"
—O—
The next day noon arrived under an overcast sky of leaden cloud. There was no rain, but a stiff steady breeze. As this was prevailingly from the north-east, the general direction they would now need to travel in order to reach and pass the Tinos Strait, the captain had deployed his single mast and hauled up its vast rectangular sail. He had brought the oars inboard and the rowers were now resting while Barrius tacked his ship back and forth in long legs—now towards the hazy dark line on the northern horizon which marked Tinos itself, now away south towards Delos, though this distant island was wholly invisible. Gabrielle had been very vocal about this tactic, which she didn't quite understand—especially as it affected her sea-legs which, at this still early juncture, could be categorized as virtually non-existent.
"Back an' forth—towards Tinos, then directly away from Tinos!" The blonde Amazon expressed disagreement with a curled lip, looking at the captain standing stolidly by the side of the rudder-man. "Barrius is spending half his time sailing away from Tinos. How're we supposed to go forward when we spend most o' the time going backwards? You can't deny it, Xena."
While the Warrior Princess struggled to explain the intricacies of the weather-gauge; along with the necessity to veer back and forth at intervals in order to cover distance in a forward direction, courtesy of the wind; and also generally try to beat into Gabrielle's head the simple fact that Barrius knew what he was doing, (and that Xena was quite as sick of trying to explain things as Gabrielle was actually sick, and couldn't she put a sock in it) a call came from the precariously placed look-out three-quarters of the way up the mast.*
"Sail, nor-west. Just on the horizon."
A general rush to the port bulwarks ensued; after all there were pirates in this area—which was a busy traditional sea-lane—and what was Tros to them if not a pirate!
"Can ya make out its size?" Xena called, then glanced at Gabrielle with a frown. "Tros's ship's a trireme, like I said—should have a large silhouette."
"No, too far away. And it's in the shadow of Tinos on the horizon." The man high up above them put a hand over his forehead and narrowed his eyes in concentration. "I can just make out the sail when the ship rises on the swell; otherwise it's invisible against the dark line of Tinos."
"Shouldn't that make its white sail easier to see?" Gabrielle offered this comment with dis-interested innocence.
"What colour is it?" Xena's voice, however, had suddenly taken on a harsh sharpness.
"Dark—dark. I can't see it very well—too far away. But it ain't white. Yeah, it's definitely dark, not white—an' not just dirty, either."
"What's the col—" Gabrielle started to ask her question, but was immediately cut off by Xena.
"Purple. Dark, heavy-toned purple." The warrior snarled through set teeth. "Tros had his sail coloured deep purple to annoy the Romans.* It's their royal colour, y'know—no-one's supposed t'use it except senators and Emperors—so Tros likes to tease them with it. It's him—he's here."
—O—
"Can we outsail him?" Gabrielle was hanging onto the bulwark at the bow and staring across the waves to the distant ship now hull-up and easily distinguishable. "Looks like it's only about what, 20—25 stadia away?"*
Just over an hour had passed. With the need to enter the Tinos Strait Barrius had steered his ship ever closer to the dark line denoting the coast of the island in question. Tros, however was between the island and them, steering a more or less parallel course. The high sides and dark sail of his powerful trireme ominously clear.
"He has the weather-gauge." Barrius stood by their side examining his probable foe with keen eyes. "That means he can fall down on us whenever he pleases, and we won't be able to outrun him. Our only chance is to reach the Strait before him—and I don't see that happening. Do you know what his armament is, Xena—and whether he'll use it?"
The Warrior Princess ran a finger across her jaw in a habit she had when deep in thought. She looked first at Gabrielle, then back to the pentekontor Master.
"He has a catapult near the bow, which uses rounded stones." Xena's eyes were fixed on the distant ship as it cut silently through the white waves. "Range of about two cables length—say about 180 feet or so. Then there's several scorpio's—the self-loading sort. Tros has trained his crew as experts in the swift use of those. They can send a continuous fire of arrows across a hundred foot wide front for several minutes at a time—with a range similar to ordinary arrows. And finally he has a variation of a ballista, set near the ship's waist, which he has adapted to fire several spear-projectiles all at once. It fires about 8 spears at a time and has a range of around 200 feet or so. He also uses Greek Fire when he thinks it necessary!"*
"He really doesn't like the Romans, does he? In other words we're doomed whenever he gets within range." Gabrielle ran a hand through her hair in disgust. "That's just great!"
—O—
Notes:—
1. Chapter 2 'a'. Yes, yes, I'm cheating! The story is actually going to be slightly longer than I originally intended.
2. Liburnian—pentekontor. Liburnians were a general group of a wide variety of slim, fast, lightly crewed boats depending on oars; while a pentekontor was a specific type.
3. Mysia. The ancient name for western Turkey.
4. Mytilene. Capital city of Lesbos.
5. Ceos, Andros, the Andros Strait; Tinos, Syros, the Tinos Strait; Chios and Delos are all geographically correct.
6. Croesus. King of Lydia from 560-547BC. Famous for his enormous wealth.
7. "He wouldn't think twice . . ." Tros and a follower have just jumped aboard a small boat whose three crewmen oppose them, of whom Tros has thrown two overboard. "But master, you killed two men!". "Not I, I gave them leave to swim!" said Tros. "They could not swim. They are all drowned, master." "That is their affair. I never forbade them to learn to swim." "Tros of Samothrace", Chapter 9. Talbot Mundy. 1934.
8. Weather-gauge. Simply put, if the wind is coming from a particular direction, and a sailing ship is upwind from your own ship then it has the weather-gauge. Upwind meaning the wind reaches the other ship before it reaches you. Thus allowing the other ship to be able to easily and quickly drop downwind onto you; while you will struggle to slowly tack up into the wind to reach it.
9. Purple. Tros did indeed have a purple trireme sail. The second book about his adventures is actually titled 'The Purple Pirate'.
10. '20-25 stadia'. 10 stadia=1 mile approximately. (1.609km).
11. Catapults, scorpio's, ballista's. All real Greek/Roman military weapons.
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