“No,” Cador answered. “We did notthink it was a good idea.”
“Cador did not think it was a goodidea,” Motius cut in, earning a furious look from theostensible navarch. “I urgedhim to do so.”
“Tell them,” I snapped at Cador, andif I had to do it over again, I would not have made it sound likean order, because the Gaul chose this moment to grow abackbone.
“I am in command of the ship and itscrew, Centurion,” he said stiffly. “I do not take orders from youin nautical matters.”
While I understood I had erred, neither wasI willing to waste the time in trying to soothe his feelings, andmy cause was aided by two slaves, both of them on the right sideopposite from the first slave who had left his bench and who didthe same thing, so that the guard at the bow was effectivelysurrounded.
“Tell them,” I repeated, but thistime, I unsheathed my gladius, dropping the scabbard to the walkway,and while I did not lift the blade nor do I recall doing so, I amcertain that I began making circles with the point as I held itloosely and looked him in the eye, because it is now such aningrained habit.
This was all it took and Cador snapped atMalorix, who listened, nodded, then shouted, presumably in theParisii tongue, but what immediately became apparent was that theslaves were beyond listening. Even in the brief span of time, moreof them had left their bench, on all three rows, the men who did soon the lower rows climbing up to the plank serving those on thetop. A quick glance about was all I had time for, but my guess wasthat about thirty slaves were now in position to storm thewalkway.
I pivoted towards the stern andbellowed, “Saloninus! Arm a couple sections of men,gladii, no shields! Now!”
The speed with which our men responded Ibelieve did more to quell the burgeoning riot than anything else;suddenly, while the slaves were still angry, their attention wasdiverted to the rear of the ship as men from the last two sectionsof both Centuries dropped out of their hammocks and snatched uptheir weapons. It did not become completely quiet, but now Malorixcould at least be heard. Cador repeated his order, and Malorixrelayed it, that we intended to land in Parisii lands and offertheir freedom in exchange for materials, supplies, and safety toeffect repairs. Which, we could all immediately see, had absolutelyno effect, other than to perhaps stop them from leaping up onto thewalkway, but if anything, the noise increased. It was the shakingof their heads, however, that informed those of us who could notunderstand their babbling that they clearly did not believe us.
Motius turned his head towards Cador, and Iwas close enough to hear him hiss, “That is why I told you to tellthem. Now they just think we are telling them because we don’t wantthem to attack us!”
Cador opened his mouth, but nothingcame out, and he looked in my direction, which I interpreted as aplea for help. Looking to the stern, I saw that at least twenty ofour men now had their gladii,and were clustered together, waiting for whatever I ordered. Itwould not be a fight as much as it would be a slaughter, and Iconfess that the thought did cross my mind that if we killed a fewof the slaves, it should serve to cow the others. If this hadhappened a few years earlier, when I was the paid man GnaeusClaudius Volusenus, the thought of dirty slaves even thinking offighting back would have been enough for me to order the slaughterof all of them, but I am no longer that man; at least, I try not tobe. We were at a deadlock, and not lost on me, or anyone else Iassume, was that we had stopped moving west, closer to land andpossible salvation, yet despite not being eager to shed blood,neither did I know what to do. Then, from the lowest row, I sawmovement as one of the slaves who had not left their bench climbedup, but it was the manner in which the slaves who were in positionto do so either reached down to help him up, or moved to make roomfor him that gave me an idea that this was no ordinary slave. And,when I had time to think about it, I believe that it was just inthe way he carried himself, despite his filthy condition, hismatted beard and hair and emaciated condition, that I recognized.He reminds me, I suddenly thought, of Germanicus, though I wouldhave never dreamed of uttering that aloud until this moment.Hopping over to the highest footpath next to the walkway, now thathe had a fellow slave on either side, I could see that he was tall,perhaps my height, and while he was not as broad across theshoulders as I was, his time at the oar had certainly packed onmuscle. Now that he was close enough to address us, he gazed up atus calmly and said something in his tongue to Malorix, who in turnrepeated the man’s words, and they were simple enough.
“Why should we believeyou?”
It was, I understood immediately, a goodquestion, and a glance at both Cador and Motius told me they bothrecognized the validity of the question and did not have an easyanswer.
“Tell him,” I spoke first, “that hedoesn’t have much choice.”
I waited for the process of translation fromMotius to Malorix, speaking their tongue since Malorix onlyunderstood basic commands in Latin, into the Parisii tongue, but toour utter surprise—“shock” is probably a better word—this filthyslave answered first, in heavily accented but understandableLatin.
“I disagree, Centurion,” the slaveanswered calmly, and I thought I saw a glint of humor in his eye.“Men always have a choice…even if they are slaves.”
He was right, but as on the back foot as Iwas, as we like to say, I was determined to hide my discomposure,although it was essentially a stall for time.
“Oh?” I tried to sound amused. “Andwhat choice does a slave have?”
His response was to laugh, and he soundedcheerful as he rejoined, “Why, Centurion,
