“Culminus was a naval captain. He’s been here for around thirty years now. He is in charge of the docks, and all ship masters have to report to him, listing their wares, last port of call and designation. Most are shipping goods and supplies for the army, but many are merchants seeking to cash in on an opening market. If anyone knows of this Glax, it’ll be him.”
“Be careful, we don’t want anyone alerted that we’re looking for him.”
“Why not?”
“We suspect he’s carrying trained mercenaries over to Dacia to assist an armed revolt against the Empire in the east.”
Gaius stopped dead, turned slowly and regarded me with a frown deeply etched in his face.
“We?”
Shit!
Me and my big mouth; how do I dig my way out of this one?
“We gods and goddesses, you know, always keeping an eye on you mere mortals.”
He looked down.
“I understand that maybe you can’t tell me, but is it because knowing will put me in danger, or will the information be meaningless to me?”
“You are far too intelligent for your own good. Look, I really can’t tell you for both reasons, but I will promise that once it is over, I will tell you everything. I must ask that you....”
“Layla, I am your friend, so do not even ask. Understand?”
I nodded.
“Good, we will speak no more of this. This man is a Phoenician, yes?”
“I believe so, but he is a Roman citizen now.”
“Right, then I know just how to approach this. Follow me.”
Chapter Nine
Culminus obviously knew Gaius, for as soon as we mounted the external wooden staircase to his office that over-looked the quayside, the older man grinned and enveloped my companion is a massive bear hug.
“You scoundrel, I haven’t seen you in far too long. Where have you been?” he said, pulling out an amphora which I knew contained either wine or something stronger.
“With the Ninth, fighting the barbarians in the north. How have you been keeping?”
“Mustn’t grumble, but this place is a pig!”
“Oh?”
“Can’t trust anyone. Steal the nose off your face if it wasn’t attached, they would. We’ve had to double the patrols as these damn Britons are sneaky bastards. Nice as pie to your face, but turn your back and they’re off into whatever is laying about. Did you see the gates?”
“Yes, they weren’t there the last time we were here.”
“Damn right. We’ve fenced off the port, making everyone go through the gates. The soldiers were crap at searching, but with practice they’re getting better.”
He switched his attention to me.
“Who’s this?” he asked.
“Culminus, meet Lucius Patricus, he’s not been with the Legion long. I told him I’d show him the sights.”
“Good to meet you, Lucius. If you’re a friend of Gaius, then you can’t be bad in my books. Take your helmet off and relax. I have some good wine here; fresh from home.”
“We can’t stay, old friend, we’re after some information,” Gaius said.
“Oh?” he replied, arching his eyebrows.
“We’re losing military supplies, and we got wind of a merchant who might be up to no good. It could be he’s buying it up and shipping it out to resell abroad.”
“Got a name?”
I was about to speak, but Gaius got in there before me.
“Not as such, but he’s possibly a Phoenician.”
“There’s a few of them about. Tight bastards, for the most part, as they play their cards close to their chest. It’s all about making a profit to them.”
“Well, any you think might be bent?”
“Oh yes, there are three that use the port regularly. The sneakiest has got to be Glax.”
One has to get a picture of who the Phoenicians were. Although under the Romans, the Phoenician influence had for the most part declined. Their hay-day had been during the 12th century BC, as they were renowned traders across the Mediterranean, particularly in the eastern end. By the time the Romans came along, they had declined to a shadow of their former glory. They weren’t actually a nation-state, but a collection of city states along the eastern end of the Mediterranean. Their cities were famous Canaanite cities, like Tyre and Sidon.
Their name was not of a people group or language, but instead came from the Greek word for the colour purple that they used to export.
Under the Romans, their cities were lumped together with all the rest in Palestine. However, their legacy to mankind is significant. They were the first to use an alphabet and exported it across the region, meaning that others apart from priests could learn to read and write. They also created an almost democratic form of government, from which the Greeks took the original idea and developed it further.
“Glax?”
“Yes. He’s a funny one, that one. He’s a Roman citizen, so is exempt from some of the taxes that foreigners have to pay. Mind you, he hangs out with the strangest people; locals mainly. He pretends to like us, but I’ve seen him watching the soldiers as they go about their business, and he’s up to something. I have no idea what, but he’s definitely a shifty one.”
“Is he in port at the moment?”
“Yes. I think his ship is due to leave in about a week. He’s taking timber on board.”
“Where is he taking it?” I asked, trying to keep my voice low.
“No ideas; wherever he can sell it for a profit, I reckon.”
“Any passengers?”
“No idea, he doesn’t have to log the manifest until day of leaving. What are you after?”
Gaius looked at me, and then answered the diplomatic way.
“Not sure yet. Some local tribesmen were captured and there’s a link to this port and perhaps some stolen stores are being sold to accumulate funding for a possible uprising. Who knows?”
“They are crafty bastards; that’s for sure. Have a drink?” he asked hopefully.
We stayed a little longer, drank one cup of indifferent wine and left, having been given directions to Glax’s ship.
“You can’t miss it. It’s a tubby round affair with a dirty great horse’s head on the prow.”
He had been right, one couldn’t miss it. It lay between a Roman naval galley with three rows of oars on each side and a scruffy little boat that didn’t even look seaworthy. It was probably a boat to take stuff up-river where the larger ships couldn’t reach.
I felt we were amazingly obvious in our uniforms, standing out in an area of hustle and bustle with local labourers and a few better dressed merchants and traders. A patrol of six legionaries came towards us, sweeping through the crowd as effectively as a snowplough through snow.
I caught more than a few hostile glances at the soldiers, of which they neither appeared to see or care.
The senior man saluted Gaius, bringing the patrol to a halt.
“Sir, can we assist?”
“Do you get much trouble with stolen goods?” Gaius asked.
The man laughed.
“Do wolves piss in the woods? Of course, but we try to keep a lid on it.”
“Do us a favour; keep an eye on that tub behind us. We’ve information that they might be receiving stolen military supplies. I’d like to know who goes on and off, and what sort of stuff is being loaded. Can you do it without drawing attention to yourselves?”
The man grinned.
“We could manage, sir. Is this official?”
“Clandestine. There could be a reward.”
All the soldiers grinned at hearing that.
“Where can we reach you?”
Gaius told him.
“Be careful, someone has already been killed sneaking about,” I said.
He nodded.
“I heard about that. It was a local labourer. They said he fell in the water and banged his head.”
“He was working for us.”
“Oh.”
“It is important that nobody else knows, as someone is selling the stuff so we need to catch them. It could be one of our people.”