I offer this as an example of two menunderstanding the problem but arriving at two differentconclusions, because we had in fact discussed that very thing, andwe agreed that the lowest row would be the most difficult, whichwas why we wanted to start with it, whereas Motius clearly felt themost difficult should be done last. While I am certainly not asexperienced as my father was, I have been under the standard longenough to recognize that there is often no right or wrong answer asfar as how one approached a problem of this nature. Ultimately, Itrusted Motius, or I should say his experience, although I onlynodded.
I had taken a step towards the ladder, whenhe probably saved us by asking, “How are you going to do it?”
“One bench at a time, down one sidethen the other.”
The words were barely out of my mouth when Isaw the alarm on his face, and he almost shouted, “No, Centurion!That would be the worst way!”
Before another ten heartbeats elapsed as heexplained why, I recognized that Motius was right in speaking thisway to me, because it would have been a disaster.
“We’re going to start at the bow, butwe’re going to start with the top row first, and we’re not going todo one side of the ship then the other. Instead, we’re going toreplace the two men on the first bench on either side of thewalkway, then the second and do it that way.”
I was slightly surprised that nobodyobjected, but now it was time to implement it, and we filed out ofthe cabin as I led the way. The beating of the Hortator’s drum meant I had to bellow as if wewere in battle, which I suppose we were, just not in a way any ofus had ever experienced. It only required a quick glance at the menon the benches, all of them drenched with sweat, their faces linedwith the fatigue of their efforts, and despite myself, I felt adeep sympathy for these slaves, even if they were rowing for theirown lives as much as for ours, given that slaves of a captured shipare at best likely to remain slaves, and almost as likely to bekilled because they are too many mouths to feed at sea. All of thehammocks had been unhooked from their fastening on the walkway sideand now were draped down the side of the ship in between the oarholes, but even with these out of the way, there was still ourbaggage, in the form of packs and shields. Most of the cargo ina trireme, at least withthose that transported us, is stored in the center of the shipdirectly under the walkway, not only to keep it out of the way, butalso to help balance the ship. Unfortunately, carrying twoCenturies, even understrength, meant that not every man’s packcould be kept out of the way, but this was something we could notdo anything about.
We had decided that my men of the Firstwould be replacing the slaves on the left side, and the Second theother side, so Saloninus and I were standing side by side on thewalkway at the bow. It was left to Columella to call the name ofone the Second’s men to come forward, while Mus filled that role aspart of my ongoing test of him. When I heard who Mus and Columellachose to come to the bow first, I saw that they had eitherindependently or agreed to do it in the simplest manner possible,starting with the Sergeant of the First Section of both. In theFirst, it was Marcus Minucius, who I had recently promoted, andTiberius Vitruvius with the Second. When they reached us, Saloninusand I remained standing, while quickly explaining to our respectiveSergeants what was expected of them. Minucius’ tunic was alreadydarkened with sweat, although thankfully, it was not that warm, soI knew it was not from the heat. The method we had come up with wasto give our men three strokes of time to watch, understand whatthey needed to do, and on the fourth they would move. It had to beat the right moment, and that moment comes when there is a brief,barely perceptible pause when the oarsman has pulled his oar backto his chest, then thrusts the shaft downward to clear it from thewater before extending his arms to repeat the stroke. Given thespeed we were going, I do not think the pause was even a fullheartbeat, but this was really our only opportunity to replace therower without running the risk of disrupting the rhythm andlowering our speed, or worse, clash oars with the lower rows.
When I glanced over at Saloninus, henodded that he had explained the process to Vitruvius, then wecalled out the count, as both of our men crouched next to us on thewalkway. The slaves had been alerted of what was coming by the manwho served as the chief guard, Malorix, another Gaul whose onlyfeature that distinguished him from the slaves was the rustygladius hanging from hisbaltea on one side and the cudgel heliked to hold, tapping one hand with it as he wandered back andforth, snarling at the oarsmen. At least, this was what we had beentold by Malorix since we did not speak their tongue, but judgingfrom the reaction of the slave on my side, if the guard had doneso, he had done a horrible job, and only the gods know how it didnot turn out to be a disaster. When Minucius dropped down, reachingfor the shaft of the oar, the slave let out a cry of alarm, clearlysurprised, despite the fact that he had been eyeing us even as herowed during the time we were preparing. If that was all he did, itwould have not been an issue, but Minucius dropped onto thefootboard that the oarsmen use for leverage to pull their oars sothat he was standing facing the slave, but on the opposite side ofthe shaft. The slave should have simply slid off the bench towardsthe main walkway, dropping down to the beam that
