3. Africa, and Disaster
It was 80 days since they had left Alexandria in Valida. They were later, Cosmas had told him, than they should be in approaching the coast of Barbary. Somewhere ahead of them, beyond a cape called Elephas and the town called Akanas, lay the Cape of Spices Strabo had called the Horn of the South. When they rounded that Cape, came out into the great Ocean, and turned sharp to starboard, to the southwest, they would encounter a new system of winds. If they were to reach the trading center called Sarapion without many months' delay, they must reach the Horn of the South while the strong northeast wind was still blowing down out of India and Arabia. If it was still blowing strong, it would carry them southwest down 1,000 miles of the coast called Azania, to the port of Sarapion, where Cosmas planned to spend several months at trade and repairs.
During these months, Cosmas had told him, the northeast wind would die, and then after a windless month, there would come a great new wind out of the southwest. The next June if not before—it was now November—that wind would bring the ship and cargo back to the Horn. There, they would with luck catch again an east wind, which would let them start up the narrowing sea for Egypt. For Egypt... and Italy? The thought came to Aulus that his chance of seeing Italy again was about as good as making a seven with the first throw of dice.
As the sun rose higher and hotter, the mountains behind the African coast to starboard came closer and clearer. The color of these mountains was now more green than gray. The sea had turned a deep blue. Nicetas the master called the hands to scrub the decks. Aulus walked aft and went into his small cabin in the deckhouse by the stern. It felt good to rest his eyes from the sun's light. It was warm in the cabin—not much breeze came in—but he sat down in the dim light, pulled out his ink and pens, and began to write in his journal.
He wanted, he thought, to record the brightness of light here on the Erythraean Sea, the colors and the smells of the sea, the feel of the stout ship. Who was he writing for? Only himself, it might be. Perhaps no other human would ever read these pages. Yet he felt compelled to keep this record of a Roman officer's life in an age that combined triumph with tragedy, beauty with devastation. The younger Pliny, he always remembered, had written if we could not lead a long life, we should at least leave something behind to bear witness we had lived.
It was not the epistles of Pliny but a talk with his trusted friend Procopius, his comrade for years on the staff of Belisarius, that had first given him the idea of writing a journal. Procopius told him in strict confidence one evening, in the tent they shared while campaigning in Mesopotamia, that he planned to write a secret history of the time of Justinian and Theodora.
"I am telling none but you, and I will have no other copies made. I plan to leave the manuscript in some safe place, in hopes it will survive and later generations can read of the corruption and depravity of the Empress Theodora and the cruelty of Justinian, who has made slaves of all Roman citizens. It is a tyranny worse than that of Tiberius five centuries ago. But you must tell no others of this."
"I will not, Procopius. Now share a little more with me. What do our fellow officers think of me? Nothing bad, I trust."
"No, indeed. They see you, I think, as I see you: intrepid and brave and a good leader. The men in the ranks speak well of you, and I know Belisarius likes you, even if he says little. If you have a fault—I myself do not see it as a fault—it is that you are not cruel enough. Perhaps a top commander must excel in cruelty. Personally, I think it is better to be a good Christian..."
Aulus had not seen Procopius for over a year now. Procopius was probably back in Constantinople, and Aulus hoped he was carrying out his plan. He had told neither Procopius nor anyone else about his own journal. His purpose was in any case different. Let Procopius describe the evil ways of Theodora and Justinian; Aulus's aim was simply to describe his own life and adventures. It was now almost 1,300 years since Romulus founded Rome. I do not claim, thought Aulus, to understand Romulus or what inspired him, what he feared, what he sought. Nor will people in another 1,300 years be able to understand Justinian, or me, or my world. Still, he thought, I can write, and hope like Procopius and Pliny that my account may survive.
Sitting in the cabin now, Aulus leafed back through the journal's stiff parchment pages to what he had written earlier. Here was their tedious long journey through the channels of the Nile, after a voyage across the sea from Italy to Alexandria that had taken them only ten days, thanks to the strong Etesian winds. From Alexandria they had made their way slowly east and south, with the crew poling and rowing the vessel much of the way, until finally they reached Babilonia near Memphis, and the canal Trajan had built to the sea over four centuries ago. Now the canal was poorly maintained. It was almost silted in, in some places.
After they crossed the lonely, hot Bitter Lakes, twice they ran aground. Once they had to unload many tons of amphoras, to lighten the ship enough to get over a shallow stretch several miles long. That stretch had taken a good ten days, after Cosmas finally coaxed the people of a nearby village to rent them their donkeys, wagons, and their own backs to portage the heavy wine and oil from Italy. Aulus thought how his Sabine neighbors would have marveled, to see what happened to the good produce of their vineyards and groves.
After they had pulled the ship through the shallows of the canal, they came to the sea, to the town of Arsinoe, a poor place but famous for its clothing factory. There they loaded many bales of cheap cotton cloaks. Another Roman vessel was docked there, just arrived from India. Cosmas went to call on the other ship's captain, and returning to Valida, he told Aulus the incoming ship's cargo was mainly cotton and silk cloth, ivory, and spices. "Perhaps," he said to Aulus, "If you stay with me, and this trip is successful, we will go next year to India. It is a rich place."
"I think I would like that," said Aulus.
That had been weeks ago, he thought as he wrote. Half an hour was all he could stand now in the windless and hot, dim cabin. He put away his book and pens and ink and came out on deck again. The deck had been scrubbed down. A half-dozen crewmen were repairing rigging. Cosmas was at the starboard rail forward. Nicetas the sailing master was standing next to him. They were gazing at a low sandy shore just several miles away, and at a great rounded massif rising from the edge of the sea ahead of them.
"Elephas," said Cosmas to Aulus. "You see why it is called so, in every language I know."
Indeed it looked very like the head and upper body of some immense elephant, facing up the sea in the direction from which they had come. It loomed gray and somehow menacing, even in the stark sunlight.
There was much else to see. As they sailed in slowly toward the coast, the water turned from dark blue to an increasingly bright green. "The water here," said Cosmas, "Is the clearest of any sea, and on a still day I have seen rocks on the bottom, 100 feet below."
Aulus could not see the bottom now, but every few minutes came a large black patch below them. The first time he saw this, he called out to Cosmas, "Can that be a shoal, Captain, just off our starboard there?"
Cosmas laughed and said "No; it is a huge school of small fish." Then came dolphins, chasing the schools of fish but also sporting, playing, making fun of the ponderously slow ship as they cavorted and leaped alongside it.
Suddenly Aulus saw a huge rounded body shoot through the crystal green water and under their ship. "Cosmas, was that some sort of great ray?"
"You are wrong again," said Cosmas. "That was a turtle. You will see more of them." He did, many of them, big broad creatures, longer than a man. It was the richest sea kingdom he had ever seen: the great turtles and leaping dolphins, occasionally a shark's large threatening fin, many diving gulls, fish in the millions of millions. For a second he saw what he took to be a big seal, which poked a bearded face at them and then dived.
The breeze strengthened, and they heeled to starboard. Aulus stuck his hand in the sea and found it was surprisingly cold considering how far south they were, and how hot the sun.
By midday they were abreast of Elephas and perhaps a mile out to sea. The cape from this side was no longer an elephant, just a great rounded stone headland. Beyond it, eastward, continued a flat coast covered with what looked like low spreading trees. They should, Aulus thought, be nearing Akanas. Indeed, after another hour passed, he could see in the distance three sailing vessels moored off the shore, and then a beach full of small boats, and behind the beach a town of many huts and a number of larger white buildings.
"Akanas," said Cosmas. He was holding a great conch-horn. After some minutes, as they came in toward the town with just a light breeze to impel them, Cosmas blew three times on his horn, and three times again, and then again. "Now," said Cosmas, "We should get some help in mooring. Let us hope we don't get our throats cut in the bargain."
In ten minutes more, half a dozen slim canoes were headed their way, each with three or four men.Valida's crew of two dozen men were all standing midships, save for the steersman. They looked expectantly at Nicetas the master.
"Furl mainsail!" roared Nicetas. The men sprang to the brails and pulled the great square canvas up to the yard. They worked quickly, for the next order was coming in a minute: "To oars!" A dozen men sprang for the ladder and vanished below. Aulus could hear the long oars grating in the portholes as the rowers ran them out into the sea. A dozen oarsmen were not much more than a third of those on some old triacontor, but their efforts and the small artemon sail over the bows would point them slowly in toward shore.
Cosmas was looking intently at the approaching canoes. So was Aulus, and Nicetas. They were far from Egypt, Aulus thought; far from the boundaries of the empire. The day when a Roman legion had marched down the length of Arabia was long gone, and on this side of the sea there had never been a legion, nor even a century or maniple. They were alone, a handful of Romans on the coast of Far Barbary. They must hope these Barbarians would believe the continuance of trade was better than plundering the ship.
Cosmas had admitted to Aulus he had not visited this coast for some years, and he knew of no other Roman captain who had done so in that time. If, thought Aulus to himself, there was no steady flow of trading ships—and no imperial troops or warships to maintain order—why should the Barbarians not just seize a rare vessel like Valida? Why trade for what you could take by force? Or would the Barbarians realize this could mean no more trading ships at all? Well, they would see, soon enough. It was a great gamble. Indeed they were gambling their lives.
Aulus buckled on his sword and dagger and straightened his tunic. He had no troop with him and their crew was small, but if it came to fighting, he would do his best. He knew his shipmates would do so as well. He had trained them as best he could. Several proved to be good bowmen, and they all knew, now, how to use spears and staves. Meanwhile, thought Aulus, I myself must try to look imposing, as an officer should.
Here came the canoes. The paddlers in them were thin and tall, black-skinned and fine-featured men, one or two with handsome beards. They wore only a kind of long skirt which several of them had tucked up above their knees.
"Vale!" they shouted. "Vale, vale, Ruma!" Aulus remembered reading about this in some old account. Long ago, when Romans had first come here, the coastal people had confused Farewell with Hail. Perhaps it was encouraging that they still did so. For now, at least, they seemed friendly. At a sign from Nicetas, two of the hands threw them lines from the bow. Soon the canoers were adding their slight force to Valida's slow progress, helping tow the heavy vessel in toward the shore.
"Oars in! Rowers on deck, quick, now!" yelled Nicetas. The oars rattled into the portholes. The shore was near to the sand now, only 200 yards away, pushed by the force of the wind on the stern and on the artemon at the bows, and pulled by a dozen thin canoers. Low waves were breaking over a narrow coral reef pointed out from the shore, 100 yards away on their starboard, upwind side. Clearly Cosmas wanted to moor near shore, downwind from the reef, which would be the only protection from the sea wind and waves. Akanas was not an impressive port, thought Aulus; but he knew it was the best anchorage for many days' sail along this coast.
Just ahead and downwind from them lay moored the three single-masted sailing vessels they had seen from out at sea. They were considerably smaller and slimmer than Valida and had an unkempt look. I wonder, thought Aulus, where they sail to...
Nicetas had not waited for a command from Cosmas to ready the two bow anchors. As they came within 100 yards of the yellow beach, Nicetas looked at Cosmas, who nodded. Then Nicetas roared, "Drop anchors!" and, five men heaving at each, the anchors crashed into the water. The stern swung to port, downwind. The canoers had realized their usefulness was over, and after dropping the lines from the ship, they were already at water's edge, beaching their craft. Now Valida's steersman and two others were shipping the steering oars. The remaining hands ran aft. Another command, and the two stern anchors hit the water. They had arrived at Akanas.
Cosmas had instructed the crew earlier about the arrival here. He and Aulus and two sailors—Sergius and Orestes, the tallest and burliest—would go on shore in the natives' boats, leaving Nicetas the master to hold fort aboard with the rest of the crew, keeping the ship's boat in case he needed it. Nicetas was to allow no native on board while the captain was ashore, a task made easier by the fact that the ship had moored in water deeper than a man was tall.
Our arrival, Aulus thought, must be the greatest event here for a long time. There were several hundred men and women on the beach: thin, dark, fine-featured, tall people. Two of the men there were wearing white shawls in addition to the long skirt-like garment. They must be men of authority. One of these two yelled some command, and again a half-dozen canoes headed out toward the ship, this time with only one paddler each. The first canoe came up to the port side and Cosmas jumped lightly in. Aulus jumped into the second, and as he landed he nearly capsized it, realizing a little late that there was no keel and the canoe rolled easily. It was a dugout made from a single tree trunk, a dozen feet long. He sat as low as he could in the bottom, and in a minute he and his paddler came to the beach. Here were Cosmas and Sergius and Orestes. The two crewmen and Aulus followed Cosmas as he walked up to the two white-shawled chiefs who were standing a few yards from the water's edge. The crowd stood back a few feet on either side of them. The four travelers each wore a short sword and dagger, but, thought Aulus, they would not last a minute if this crowd fell on them.
Cosmas raised his hand, bowed slightly, and said "Vale," then continuing in Greek. "Peace to you. We are traders from Rome. I believe I recognize Aba Koganos; health and honor to you. You know I have been here before, to trade. I brought you good wine and oil, and strong weapons, and fine garments. Shall we trade again, now? We are bound onward beyond the Cape of Spices, but if you have good ivory and incense, I would like to see it now, and we can load it on our way home. I will show you our own merchandise which is of the best quality... This is my comrade Aulus, who is a noble man sent here by our Emperor, a man who has seen the whole world except for these lands of yours. Again, we come in peace, and we would be your friends."
It was not the man whom Cosmas had recognized as Aba Koganos but the other elder who held up his right hand and said "Vale," then continued in passable Greek, "We welcome you. We are honest men living in a poor land. We speak straight, not like some peoples who have flicking tongues like serpents, tongues too narrow to bear truth. We have traded with captains from the North for many generations, almost five times ten. We know that the people of Rome prize our incense and ivory, and the slaves whom we take in war and then sell. But now few ships like yours come here, although the Romans always tell us—as you yourself told us the last time you were here, Captain Indo—that they will return the next year. What are we to think of this? We take slaves, we keep them in that place over there"—and he pointed to an empty enclosure of an acre or two with coral walls—"and after a year or two, when no ship has come to take them, they try to escape and we kill them, or they just die. We hunt elephants inland, and bring the tusks here and pile them high, waiting for a Roman ship. And the ship does not come. We climb the cliffs and cut into the trunks of the incense trees and take the sap, and when it dries it is the very finest incense, but how many sacks shall we keep in storage for the Romans who do not come? You Romans do not keep your word. Why should we trade with you? And now you come and tell us that you are here only for a brief visit—probably because you need fresh water—and that your true destination lies beyond what you call the Cape of Spices. We do not understand this. You must explain more clearly to us why we should be your friends and trade with you."
"O wise man, what do men call you?" asked Cosmas. "I see that you remember what men call me. But I am not just Indo, but Indicopleustes, for I have sailed the great Ocean to India, and more than once. It is because I have sailed on these long journeys, and also because there have been wars in the lands that lie between Akanas and our own world, that I have not been able to return to Akanas before today. But I have good memories of our dealings in other years. I would like to continue these dealings now."
The elder stood and stared at Cosmas. There was a long silence. Then the other elder, Koganos, said, without reference to Cosmas' last words, "This man is called Wefundi by our people, which is to say Great Builder." He added slowly, "We will consider what you say."
The sun was at full force. The breeze off the sea did not cool this burning world very much. Each of the four from the ship was wearing his cotton cloak. Cosmas had pulled back his cowl to stand bareheaded, and so Aulus and the two sailors had done the same, and the sun was striking their heads hard. Inland beyond the beach, the sandy lanes of the town were lined with tall shade trees. The mountains farther inland were high enough that Aulus could see their crests over the trees. The mountains looked green, a cooler place than this hot coast. He wished for a moment he were up there, instead of standing on a beach surrounded by these Barbarians of uncertain tempers.
Suddenly there was a commotion from the ship, which was lying just over 100 yards from where they were standing. There was shouting, and the voice of Nicetas calling "Captain! Treachery, treachery, the damned dog!"
"Nicetas!" called Cosmas. "What is it, man?" A canoe come out from behind the ship. One black man was paddling and another held his right arm with his left hand as if in pain, and both were shouting, and suddenly Aulus could see that the man in pain had a bleeding stump where his hand had been, and now he fell out of the canoe into the water. A shout went up from the people around them. Men and boys ran to the water and splashed their way out to the man who had fallen in. Then three or four men jumped Aulus and he was on the ground, his arms held behind him and sand grinding in his face. He heard Wefundi the elder shouting orders. He expected any second a blade in his back.
It might have been five minutes that he lay there pinioned, listening to men shouting. He tried to call to Cosmas, and someone pushed his face back into the sand. He could make nothing of all the shouting. Another command from Wefundi, or perhaps it was the other elder, and he was pulled to his feet. His arms were pinioned behind him, and there was sand in his eyes, but he could see Cosmas and the two crewmen, each of them held like Aulus by two or three villagers.
"Aba Koganos!" called Cosmas. "Let us discuss what has happened. We are honest men, like you, and we should discuss matters calmly."
Now Aulus saw that a group of villagers had swarmed onto the ship, and Nicetas and the others were also prisoners. They were all prisoners, and on a barren shore of Africa. They were thousands of miles beyond the last outpost of the empire. Their lives would end here, and their friends and families would never know their fate. Bleak strand, savage men, burning sun: a sordid death was coming. Lord God, thought Aulus, take my soul...
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