Casca 1: The Eternal Mercenary (10 page)

Shiu laughed, a tinkling sound, as of wind chimes. His voice had a surprisingly lilting quality to it.

"Very well, O mighty warrior. What you witnessed was no more than the way of the open hand. It is an art many of those in my brotherhood practice. You see, our code forbids the use of weapons, but we are not so stupid as to believe that absolute passivity will solve every situation. So, when all else fails, we go the way of the open hand. It came to us from across the great mountains along with the teachings of another great sage, Siddhartha Gautama, called the Buddha. Many of his followers were masters of this art, and we learned from them and have changed it to suit ourselves."

"But," Casca broke in, "How does it work? You're so much smaller than those two, yet you handled them as if they were babes. How?"

Shiu laughed again.
.. "I like you, barbarian. And because I like you and believe that basically you are a good man, I will tell you of the way of the great circle. For every movement there is a counter movement. You use your opponent's strength and weight against him. While this journey lasts I will instruct you in the Way, but in exchange for this, you must also let me tell you of the way of Confucius in the hope that I may attain greater merit for my efforts. Agreed?"

Casca was not particularly interested in the religion part, but that other. "Agreed," he said.

As he reached out to shake on the' deal he noticed for the first time that Shiu's hands were odd looking. The two large knuckles on each hand were much greater in size than they should have been and were covered by a thick pad of callus. Another pad ran down the edge of his palm. And the little man's hand was as hard as Casca's – even after Casca's years in the mines.

For Casca, the rest of the trip was much too short. The time spent with Shiu taught him more about life and people than all his other years combined. Even the little man's philos
ophy of life would have been pleasant to believe in. However, Casca knew that it was not his way. His fate was forever merged with the sword. As for Shiu, Casca liked and respected the little man.

Shiu's hands and feet were faster than the eye could follow. Yet he claimed there were others even faster than he, that masters in this art in his home country of Khitai could snatch arrows from the air, such was their proficiency. But, laughing his tinkling laugh, he said, "Do not concern yourself with that, big nose, for you will not reach that level in the short time we have together. That is the undertaking of years, and I fear you are too old to begin. One must start as a child to learn properly, but you will learn enough to make you a master among your peers. For, is not a one-eyed man king in the land of the blind? You will not learn all, but perhaps it will be enough for your purposes."

Casca was fascinated by the ritual-looking motions of the forms that Shiu went through. After a couple of days he could see that they were not just forms for mental discipline, but actual movements and strikes of deadly efficiency.

Shiu concentrated on teaching Casca only those techniques easiest to learn. They exercised these for ten or more hours every day. The other slaves thought they had gone insane with mad dancing and whirling.

As for Crespas, he left Casca to his own, only calling to see him now and then to make sure he was eating properly and wasn't getting sick. A wise man took good care of his stock – and Casca could be worth thousands.

Crespas knew nothing of the little yellow man.

The day before landfall began with deceptive peace. It was hard to imagine that violence and danger might occur before the voyage ended. For Casca and Shiu the morning was tranquil. They stood on the foredeck enjoying the cool breeze. To the starboard the red-tiled roofs of Rhegium were reflecting the rosy glow from the morning sun, the contrasting whitewashed sides of the houses making a pleasant and relaxed picture. To port lay the huge island of Sicily over which Rome and Carthage had battled and where also were Greek colonies that had been founded over seven hundred years before, the oldest of which was Naxos, too far to the south for Casca and Shiu to see. The galley glided along, gradually entering choppier waters as they came into the Straits of Messina. But the bronze-tipped ramming prow was slicing its way closer and closer to Rome. By late tomorrow they should make landfall at the port of Ostia.

The oar slaves lay with the oars to hand in case the wind behind failed and the waters of this narrow stretch turned treacherous. But at the moment, all was peace and calm.

Casca turned to Shiu, letting his eyes take in this strange and unusual man who was so surprisingly gentle for one with such great fighting capabilities.

"Shiu, I asked you before, and you said you would say later. We have only this last day and night before we land and we are separated. Tell me. I wish to know. How did you come to be where you are? And what are you? Who is it that you are being sent to?"

Shiu smiled gently, the wind whipping his robes as if trying to fill them as it did the rigged sails of the galley.

"Very well, big nose. Sit and listen. I come from the province of Tsi, near the great river of Hwang-ho. There I was raised in the teachings of my master, Confucius. I studied with my brothers at the monastery. When the elder brothers deemed I was worthy, they sent me out to teach the way to the unenlightened.

"I took only my beggar's bowl and staff. Many provinces did I travel to, spreading the word. I have seen wonders you have not dreamed of.

"But I also discovered I have a great curiosity to see even more. And because of that curiosity I found myself taken captive by pirates on the way to the kingdom of the Khmer."

The morning sun reflected like silver coins off the channel as Shiu paused to collect his thoughts.

"My hulking friend, there is no need for me to tell you of all that has happened to me over these last fifteen years. That would take more time than we have left to us on this journey. Suffice to say that I have been sold and resold, given my freedom and made a slave again and again – yet always the path that fate has selected for me has led to these barbarian lands.

"I have had many masters. For the most part they were kind enough, and several have chosen to follow the Way. I have spent the last five years teaching the sons and daughters of the governor of Rhodes, for I have a small gift for numbers and music. However, my philosophy is not what the governor of Rhodes found congenial. His eldest son was beginning to take interest in my words. To preclude his son's acceptance of the Way, the governor, a kindly man, has made a present of me to a friend of his. I have heard of his friend; he is a wise and noble man of learning. It is to his house I go."

"Well, dammit," grumbled Casca, "who is he?"

"Seneca is the honored man's name
– Seneca."

Casca was silent for a moment. When Lucius had updated him on history and politics the name of Seneca had often been mentioned. Seneca, he recalled Lucius as saying, was one of Rome's leading minds. He had been the teacher and adviser of Nero when the young emperor first assumed power. Of late, however, Nero had been going his own way and listening to none but those who pleased him. Well, it was none of Casca's concern. He would never meet Nero.

Now the Pelorus promontory was coming in sight and the sea roughening. The captain called on the slaves to take oar and assist in the last of the passage through the Straits of Messina.

"We will have only one more night at sea, my young friend. Our time at sea is short, and we should make the most of it in learning. I call you young, for so you appear, but... I have been to many lands and many places. I have met the great and the small. Most of the pitiable group that we call man fit into niches of one kind or another. Even I fit into one. But you are an enigma to me. I don't quite know how to place you. Can you help in answering this? Forgive me if I am asking too much, but, as I told you, I am cursed by overweening curiosity."

Smiling, Casca leaned close to the yellow man. "There is an answer, Shiu, but I don't think now is the time for the telling. Perhaps after we land we will have the chance to talk together once more."

Shiu gently accepted Casca's reticence to talk of himself. "Good enough, long nose. If you choose not to speak, you have your reasons. Let it suffice that I believe you are basically a good man
– within your own rules, that is. You are not cruel without purpose, neither do you use your great strength against those who are weaker. Also, your wish to come to my aid when the ignorant ones forced themselves on me shows a certain moral structure. But I believe you are one who is hounded by his own existence, that you have yet to gain control over your destiny – or even to know what it shall be. But, enough. We will leave things as they are. I accept you without restraints."

Shiu rose to his full height. Clasping his hands together, and holding them inside the long sleeves of his robe, he bowed.

Crespas, coming on deck, noticed the yellow man bowing to Casca but thought nothing of it. As with Casca and Shiu, the morning was tranquil for him. His memories of the voyage so far were pleasant. He had been content to wager his palate against the money of the galley captain by naming the different wines of the empire set before him. So far he had won three and lost one, but in this kind of contest he couldn't really lose. The wagers were small and the wines for the most part quite good, especially the Falernian, of Rome. Not Rome exactly, but it was grown in the hills between Rome and Neapolis to the south. Also, there were vintages that were almost as pleasing. The Mamerian of Sicily and the Greek Chian and Lesbian were worth the tasting just for the differences.

Ah! The thought of good wine and good food filled Crespas with a happy glow, and he anticipated tonight's supper. As the galley neared its destination, small boats would approach, Crespas knew from past experience; the sailors would be crying out what they had to sell... sea urchins and turbot fresh from the waters... and oysters. Crespas' mouth fairly watered at the thought of fresh raw oysters in a fish sauce, washed down with the Tarter Mamertine.

Good! The pleasures of civilized company again... and food fit to eat, not the goat smothered in garlic that those miserable goatherds had so constantly tried to palm off on him these past years. This homecoming was long overdue.

Still, the last three years had not been without profit. The mines on Siphnos had not been completely worked out by the Greeks. Besides the copper ore, there were occasional pockets of silver. Even gold had cropped up now and then. The bulk of this went into his own purse, after, of course, a reward to the overseer who brought the finds to him. One had to still wagging tongues.

But... tomorrow... Rome... and my villa... home again!

Crespas sighed, luxuriating in anticipation.

He had entirely forgotten Casca and the little yellow man.

But two men on the galley had not forgotten Casca and Shiu.

The two thugs had seen Shiu bow to Casca. The breed cursed quietly. The younger one asked, "tonight?"

"Tonight. When the sea gets rough."

"But what if they don't show on deck?"

"They will." By Mithra, damned if he would be cheated out of his revenge. Even the gods would not be that unfair. There had been no chance to even the score so far. The two had continued to give Casca and Shiu dark looks and cursed at them beneath their breath when they were in the vicinity of the yellow man, but only once had they given it the old try. A few days earlier the two of them had approached Casca and started to chew his ass out for taking up with the yellow man, but at the sight of Casca swelling up in anger
– his neck and face turning dark with rage, his great arms flexing – they had beat a hasty retreat. The incident had served to cement their hatred for Casca, and they now included him in their curses and plottings.

"Tonight," the breed repeated.

Strong winds billowed the sails out and drove the galley on north, north to the port of Ostia. The waters grew appreciably rougher as the evening approached and the Tyrrhenian Sea turned dark. When full night came on, the island of Aeoli was far astern to port, and the seas were even rougher. But the wind was steady, pushing them to the north at a good clip, and the captain chose to ride the wind after giving orders for everything loose to be battened down. All fires were out. No oil lamps were to be lit tonight. The risk of fire was too great, and the captain was a careful man. As for Casca and Shiu, the prohibition of lamplight made little difference. They weren't used to having lamps at night anyway. Oil was a luxury saved for the rich and well-to-do, not for lowly slaves.

Casca and Shiu took their meals and ate apart from the other slaves as was now their custom. The two thugs gave them dark looks, but Casca ignored them, and Shiu seemed not to see. Tomorrow would be the end of the voyage. Neither would probably ever see the two thugs after the landing. They ate and prepared for the night.

The wind freshened and the sea roughened. The galley pitched and yawed. Those in the slave sections tried to sleep. Some succeeded, but the tossing only served to make Casca restless. He arose from his pallet, wrapped his cloak around him, and started for the upper deck and fresh air. As he climbed the ladder leading to the surface, a figure below made himself known.

"Shiu!"

"Go on, big nose, I am right behind."

The two walked carefully along the deck to the starboard side of the galley. Italy lay somewhere in the dark. The wind hummed through the lines, pressed the billowed sails, and the galley drove on through the night.

Shiu faced the stern, letting the sea breeze blow cold in his face and spray settle into his thin beard and moustache. "Aiiiee, big nose. This is much better than lying below in that dungeon. Here at least we can breathe free air – even if we are not free."

Casca grunted as he was wont to do when he couldn't think of anything to say, enjoying the brisk wind. The only sailors on deck were those needed for the care of the ship. They were mostly Cyprians or Egyptians, experienced men who could be counted on in an emergency. The wind was strong, but there was no real danger, though the roughness of the sea was enough to make landlubbers uncomfortable.

There was, however, another danger much more real.

As Casca and Shiu enjoyed the open expanse of the dark sea, two figures made their way to the deck. These kept stealthily to the shadows, moving slowly and cautiously. The two bullies were determined to even the score tonight, for the rough sea would be an ideal time. If two landsmen went over the side into the churning waters, surely there could be no suspicion of foul play.

The younger man moved forward, his breath seeming to rasp in his ears, anticipation building in him, his pulse quickening. It was his first such kill. The older man was more settled and at ease. A basic streak of cruelty needing to be fed, combined with the need to reinforce his own image of himself, drove him to this act of murder. He had killed before in the dark, once even under very similar circumstances to this while working on a cargo ship out of Crete. There the seas, like these, had covered his deed forever.

No moon covered the dark sea. The only light came from the phosphorescent glowing of the ocean froth, flashing and disappearing, winking out like strange-shaped fireflies.

Despite the night chill, the face of the young man was covered in sweat. He could barely make out the Greek beside him. He touched the Greek's arm with a hand that was questioning, eager, trembling. The shadows of Casca and Shiu loomed indefinitely before them, but in the faint light of the phosphorescent sea it was obvious that their backs were turned, and the wind was covering any sound the two assassins might make. The time was now. The half-breed gave his comrade's hand a forward jerk, and simultaneously they moved forward, arms out, hands reaching to shove...

They were only two steps away...

Shiu tensed. A velvet shadow, he turned and caught the young one's outstretched hands, pivoting inside the young man's reach. Gently he set his hip against the thigh of the young man and with a smooth, turning lift threw the youngster flying over his head and out over the railing.

The next thought in the young man's brain was the feel of the sea reaching up to meet him. A large swell of the black waters seemed to open for his body. Near silence. Only a gurgling sigh. The waters took him down, closing over him, surprising in their warmth. His mouth was open for a scream that never came, for it was instantly filled with the Mediterranean. He had no sense of weight. In the dark, salty water there was no up or down. Panic began to touch his brain, but then was dulled as the sea flowed into his lungs and the warm, wet black claimed him forever.

His comrade was not as fortunate.

When Shiu turned, it alerted Casca, and he caught the Greek breed by the arm and throat. Casca's instinctive soldier's training took over. The lessons he had learned from Shiu came automatically. Without consciously willing it to happen, he used a forward leg trip and drove the Greek to the deck, still holding to the breed's throat. In the corner of his eye he sensed the flying shadow of the young man and Shiu turning into the basic defensive posture, feet set in a strong horse stance, hands positioned.