In late summer, the first day of the ninth month of the year, Otho and I left our home and headed towards Arabor. With the population of fifty thousand people, it was the smallest Vetulonian city, known for its gambling dens, dancing shows and festivals.
When we left, my mother was of course crying. Father was vainly proud. He barraged us with useless tips. My brother was the most lucid one. He told me he’d wait with the wedding ceremony until I returned and gave me a gift, a poem he wrote about brotherhood.
“I’ve been scribbling a lot lately. I guess Augusta has awakened something in me!”
“I bet she has.”
“Don’t get dirty, Antonius!”
I laughed and we hugged.
We traveled by a river boat, so it only took us three days to reach Arabor. When we arrived, we went to the Cohort Temple, where they gave us a room and served us a warm meal. They told us to report at dawn at dock number nine. The room was simple, two beds, two tables, two chairs and one window. We ate the food, went to wash up, then straight to bed, where we slept through the whole night. At dawn, someone knocked on the door, which catapulted us out of our sleep. I opened the door and on the floor found two plates filled with boiled eggs, beans, bread and apples. We ate in silence, tired. Then we went to wash up and headed towards the docks. It was a cold morning with thick fog smothering the city. Odd for that time of the year. We were dressed warmly, but that didn’t prevent us from shivering.
“Gods be damned, why does it always have to be dawn!? Or right before dawn! Why not noon?! What’s wrong with noon?” Otho babbled more to himself than me. I didn’t say anything. It was too cold to talk.
After an hour we reached the docks. The sailors were boarding the five ships that were supposed to be part of the expedition. Captain, I could tell by his insignia on his clothes, came to us:
“Speak.”
“What?” I asked with a confused expression. He rolled his eyes and tried again:
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Oh, Antonius Catero, Otho Lepidus.”
“Oh, diplomats, if I’m not mistaking. My apologies for my... Colorful approach. I’m not a morning person. Fucking fog… At this time of the year! Peculiar… Yes, so this is your ship. There’s no sense in me showing you your quarters while there’s work to be done. So spit in your hands and go to work. Titus here will tell you what to do.” Titus, a man who looked like he was in his mid-forties, tall, with short black hair and broad shoulders, approached us. The captain trotted away with a slow pace.
“Diplomats, ey?” Titus asked with a cheerful tone. He was a knight. All knights wore a specific ring on their right hand. I always liked how they looked and couldn’t wait to get it one day. The rings were made of wood, crushed gemstones, glass and silver.
“Yes, sir.” I responded, while Otho just stood there, looking at sailors rolling the barrels up the ships. A third of the crew were women. Right then they started singing a cheerful song about a sailor’s life. Their voices echoed through the foggy morning. It felt grand.
“Nice,” said Titus. “I wanted to be a diplomat… Titus Vorenus, a diplomat. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? But the Republic decided it was best to use my talents within the navy. Now I’m the first mate of this wooden barrel,” he pointed towards our ship.
“I still get to travel all around Helena, while hunting pirates, protecting trade ships and fucking whores of Helena! Ha!” Sailors were always a bit vulgar, but I liked that, and I liked Titus. He seemed genuine. I laughed, so did Otho. Instead of putting us to work, he started chatting. Not that I minded, anything was better than to sweat in that cold.
“So, pledges, ha? You drank the tea yet?”
“The Tea of Darkness?” I asked.
“Yes… Gods, what a stupid melodramatic name.”
“We have,” I answered for the both of us.
“Good, so now you can wet you beak in ports, no sense in withholding your juices. You’re young, everything still works, got to put it to use, am I right?… The best whores are the Porosian ones. Why? I can’t tell you! But they’re the best. The League has banned prostitution, that sad pack of donkeys! Has either of you fucked a Dwarf?”
Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.
“No,” we both answered.
“An Elf?”
“No,” we both answered.
“Has either of you fucked anything yet?”
“Yes,” I answered, but Otho kept silence. Titus didn’t notice that, he looked into the distance and mumbled:
“The worst whores are in Megalopolis… They’re too boring! They’d rather talk than fuck. Oh, to be young again like you lads! I remember my pledge days, how they forced us to study study study! But now that I’m older, I feel like I learned more from brothels than books and scrolls. Fuck rolling barrels, let me show you to your quarters so you can rest for a bit.”
Yes, I liked Titus. We boarded the ship and went under the deck, where he showed us a tiny room without windows with two narrow beds.
“This is it. Better than most sailors, let me tell you that.”
“How come we get our own room, while sailors have to sleep in hammocks and sleeping cloths?” I asked.
“You’re our guests. Besides, nobody wants to sleep in this room.”
“How come?” Otho wondered.
“Well, when we port, we’re sometimes not allowed to leave ship. Security reasons. So we bring the ladies, and men, of the night here, to this room. You understand, yes? So if the beds seem to have an odd coloring and sheets are a bit crusty, now you know the reason why! Ha ha ha!”
“Are you serious?” I asked.
“Of course!”
“May we sleep with the rest of the crew?”
“Not much better, let me tell you. They fart, they snore, they masturbate.”
“Alright then. The room with crusty beds it is!” I sighed.
“Ha ha ha! I like you two! Settle down, rest. Do what you want. We’ll set sail in an hour or so.”
Being on the ship felt exciting. Our ships were technologically the most advanced vessels of our time. In fact, the envy of whole Helena. While the rest of the lot for the most part used rowed boats with basic square sails, our ships used complex combination of sails of different shape. No rowers needed. Our ships could stay in the open sea for weeks, while those of other realms only ten days at most. We could cover twice the distance in the same time span and instead of rowers our lower decks could be filled with supplies, soldiers and even small, somewhat comfortable quarters. Vetulonian ships were a bit smaller though, but agile. There were attempts of copying our designs, but of no vale. The spy division of the Cohort was extremely prudent in guarding our secrets.
I lay on the bed and to my surprise it was very comfortable. Otho grabbed a book from his bag, then put it back inside and just stood there.
“I’m going up to the deck,” he finally said.
“Do that. I’ll try to take a nap.”
He left the room and I closed my eyes, slowing down my breathing. But I couldn’t sleep. My mind was jumping around like a nervous rabbit. So I stood up and followed Otho. By then Tiberius, Lord of Vetulonia, had arrived. He was standing near the arbor, talking with the Captain and Titus. Otho stood near them, talking to a sailor. I decided to join the two of them.
“I’m Cassius,” said the sailor.
“Antonius,” I answered and unintentionally yawned. He laughed.
“I was just telling your friend here about the pirates.”
“They’ll leave us alone, right?” I asked.
“Of course, most of them don’t dare to approach us. They know better. We’d burn them alive.”
Cassius was referring to the large lenses stored in the lower deck. When an enemy ship approached, they simply set them up, pointed them towards the enemy’s sail and let the sun do its job.
“What about if it gets cloudy?” Otho asked and he too yawned.
“We’re too fast for them anyway, they can’t really catch us. Now, their base is around the Kasos Islands, so when we anchor there we’ll have to be a bit careful. Numbers are on their side. But that’s about as far as the danger goes. We’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Remember your priorities.”
“The success of our mission, you mean?”
“I meant the whores in Porosia! Ha ha ha! Now excuse me, kind guests,” he said mockingly. “We’re about to set sail, I have to go to work.”
As he left, Tiberius approached.
“Good morning, young wolves of Vetulonia,” he jokingly greeted us. Before we responded he continued:
“Did Cassius tried to scare you with his stories of pirates?”
“No, he played nice,” I answered.
“Good. There’s nothing to worry about. Pirates are a sad lot, most of them anyway… Relax and rest and enjoy the fresh sea air.” He patted us both on our shoulder and left to the lower deck. Everything around us suddenly became lively. Sailors were climbing the arbor and letting lose the white square and triangular sails. The ship started to move slowly. I watched as Vetulonia became smaller and smaller until it was gone.