Brachan: A Soldier's Secret Mission

By Larry Kaniut

Stationed in Rome, Brachan is dispatched on military assignment to Jerusalem to monitor and deal with a potential threat. Upon investigating allegations of a local baptizing menace, he dismisses the Baptizer John as a creditable risk to the empire. However, Brachan's extensive spy network identifies a Nazarene named Jesus who seems more dangerou

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paper Talk
• Release date: Mar 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9781955728010

Book preview

CHAPTER 1 — Mission

A-lex-y! A-lex-y! A-lex-y! Thousands of voices chanted in unison, their tribute thundering throughout the arena. Wave upon wave echoed in a near deafening crescendo until the arena rocked with the intensity of the victory. Alexius had won again. Alexius the gladiator. Alexius, the people’s choice. Arms raised above his head and fists clenched, he stood as a stately statue, facing the crowd and acknowledging their accolades.

Voices boomed from the lowest to the highest tier. Senators, merchants and wealthy visitors shouted from the seating closest to the arena. Behind them sat the philosophers, magicians and dissidents, the sword-wielding imperial guards keeping a watchful eye for any signs of discord. And from the upper tiers the plebeians and rabble hooted bawdy, if not obnoxious, comments…the cacophony evolving into a thunderous rumble.

As in countless days gone by, the amphitheater sucked thousands of Romans to her breast. Some visitors stayed in tents outside the arena waiting for scheduled events to begin. Countless spectators filled the stone structure in riotous voice.

Now Alexy strode confidently across the sand covered arena, his leather thonged feet kicking up granules. His bronzed body under the residue of perspiration revealed sculpted muscles glistening in the sunlight. This same man is the same who was my childhood companion. We’d grown up together. How many times had I watched Alexius enter the arena? How many foes had he vanquished? Dozens.

He’s taught me much about strategy and survival in the arena. After years of camaraderie I’m watching him again, prior to my mission.

Climbing the stone steps toward me he hails, Hey, old friend. Greetings.

Congratulations, Alexy. Another victory.

"A hard fought one against a worthy opponent. Do you want to go to the ludi before our evening begins?

Why not?

Then, let us go.

Musing aloud, I asked, Alexy, how much longer do you think you’ll challenge the arena’s combatants?

I’ve not thought about it much. The glamour of the gladiators is romanticized. As you know, I have no thoughts of fame. Much work goes into my chosen profession. It’s not easy, you know.

Remind me, O Gallant One, just how hard do you work?

Survival in the arena requires disciplined persistence—constant effort to condition and to perfect maneuvers.

Yeh, yeh, yeh.

You surely remember the face of the gladiator has changed significantly over the years. From slaves or captured prisoners of war those of suitable age and physique and body type were sent to take the oath of the gladiators, the rest put to death immediately or sold as household slaves. As time passed gladiatorial contests did not end in the death of one of the combatants. The crowd decided his fate—thumbs up, he continues his profession; thumbs down, he’s killed.

Yes, I know all that, Alexy. Why should we not be surprised that many of these free men sold themselves to gladiator schools for money?

Indeed. We should not be, my friend.

As we neared the school, I egged on my companion somewhat, So, ‘Lex, I’m guessing you initiate all the new gladiators to give them a leg up?

A leg up, yes. A chance to defeat me, no. With them I share mostly our history. That’s all.

At that point we reached the ludi. A stout young man, barely dry behind the ears, interrupted our discourse, addressing Alexy, I was told the older gladiators could provide some background about the ludi. I presume you are a gladiator. Would you have time to answer a couple of questions?

Obviously this kid was new. He didn’t recognize Alexius, the true veteran that he is.

With a twinkle in his eye and a wink in my direction, Alexy replied, Well, now, New Man. How about I first ask a question or two of you?

Without skipping a beat, New Man looked Alexy in the eye, That’s fair enough. Go ahead.

For starters, since you might be my opponent one day, what’s your name?

Laelia. My friends call me Lucky.

Well, let’s not get too informal at this point. Next question. Nowadays free men choose to become gladiators. We both know that some of these men, formerly Roman soldiers, either sought fame and fortune or pursued their only skill. Some were wealthy Romans who wanted adulation and glory. Since they were allowed to keep any prizes or gifts they were given during gladiatorial games, a successful gladiator could improve his financial status handsomely. Others turned to the arena for the money. Successful gladiators could become famous and retire wealthy. Are you a free man, criminal, prisoner of war or slave?

Criminal. Recently captured.

Oh…not so lucky, then?

My crime was stealing food for a starving family.

For that you’re sent to the Ludi Gladiatorium?

There are two kinds of luck.

So there are. Okay, I’ll answer your questions…as long as they do not undermine my personal strategies and safety.

For starters, what am I to expect?

"You will receive excellent training in weapons and combat techniques here. As a new recruit or novicius you enter the school and the manager or lanista assesses you, right?"

Right.

Unattractive men are automatically rejected—spectators prefer beauty. Your physique determines the type gladiatorial training you will receive. For instance, does your body type suggest that you will be suited for heavy or light armor? The lanista’s determination goes a long way in directing your training.

Although the manager determines my training, what options do I have?

The trainers are often retired gladiators. They specialize in specific styles of fighting and weapons. The Dimachaeri carry two swords while the Samnites carry a short sword, a rectangular shield and wear a helmet; Velites use a javelin and the Sagittarii are mounted horseback and armed with bows and arrows. Each style has its advantages and disadvantages.

What about injuries or other health issues?

A doctor checks you for suitability as a trainee and for medical issues. You look healthy. It would not be good for me to suggest your style because we may battle in the arena. You wouldn’t want to trust me on that call.

Okay. So let’s say I pass muster. Then what?

"Serious gladiators endure a strict daily training regimen in order to achieve the highest skill levels, the best fighters rising to the top. Probably any one of the new recruits could subdue the bulk of outsiders, those who only come to watch us. You are closely guarded but your treatment and need for shackles ease with time served. You may choose to become a highly trained gladiator, an expensive commodity. As such you will be treated with some care. Your training cost is high. You’ll be well fed and receive excellent medical treatment. Some of the tattooed veterans are members of collegia, a formal association which ensures proper burials that compensation will be duly given to their families."

When Laelia responded, I knew we had a live one, I’m fond of food. I like all kinds and lots of it. But better than that, I like life. Trust me, I’ll train hard. He finished with cocky bluster, I won’t mind the money either.

To that, Alexy responded, Looks like I’ll have to start training harder or make sure we don’t cross paths in the arena. Perhaps we’ll join ranks and become a fearsome dual threat.

Somewhat surprisingly Laelia next alluded to Spartacus, I bet some of those wealthy Romans investing in troops of gladiators wish Spartacus had stayed in the school so they could have invested in him.

Alexy admitted, Yes, Spartacus was a worthy contestant and a crafty foe. After Spartacus turned from soldiering to becoming a gladiator and trained in the gladiatorial school of Lentulus Batiatus, he became an escapee. With the aid of seventy men wielding kitchen utensils they fought their way out of the school and seized several wagons of gladiatorial weapons and armor to become enemies of Rome.

I felt inclined to share my pleasure with my relative involvement, though distant, It makes me proud when I say that my grandfather was among those soldiers who put a stop to his reign. Many times I’ve listened to my grandfather tell of the travails he endured chasing Spartacus and his rebels.

Alexy responded, It’s interesting that due to the rebellion of Spartacus all gladiatorial weapons are secured to prevent another such uprising. While continuing to recruit other slaves he trained his followers and they defeated the Roman soldiers on numerous occasions.

And I stated, perhaps the obvious, It was only a matter of time before the Roman army toppled them. As a message to future insurrectionists, the army crucified the six thousand survivors, thirty or forty yards apart, along the Appian Way, where they were left as examples and fed upon by vultures and dogs.

By now the day was waning and Alexy excused himself, telling the young combatant that we were departing to enjoy the evening.

As we left the ludi, I asked, ‘Lex, do you ever wonder about the parallel between the arena and Rome?

I’ve never given it great thought, however I see a definite parallel. The arena symbolizes our society. The masses flock there to watch human suffering and bloodshed—either from beasts or man. Those who come to the arena want to be entertained. Some are merely killing time while others lust for the danger and the killing. And they flood the arena with their perverted sexual displays. Even under the watchful eyes of guards, the masses engage in disgusting behavior from the bottom row to the top of the stadium—from Caesar to the lowliest peasant.

Maybe some of them should be subjected to the arena where gladiators could address their immorality.

Good point. How much chance would one of them have against a gladiator?

The tone of the nation is set by its leaders. If they are defiled and degenerate, what kind of example is that to the civilians?

"Like I said, our society screams for personal pleasure and blood lust.

Speaking of Spartacus and his followers and their quest for freedom from Rome, what are you hearing about the hotbed of anarchy in the south? After Archelaus was removed and when Judaea came directly under Rome’s control, the tyranny and extortion of Roman governors and their efforts to introduce heathen symbols and customs almost brought the country to a boil.

Things are still a cauldron of chaos—clashes of culture, social issues, religion and politics occur daily. Rumblings have reached Rome, rumblings regarding revolution, uprisings or some other controversy in Israel. Endless unrest continues unabated. What else is new?

Maybe some of the protestors could come to Rome and my gladiator pals and I could engage them in the arena.

"That’s a thought. The Jews aren’t the only ones—they’re just the loudest…and maybe the most brazen. They complain that the boot of Rome is upon their necks. Their dislike and distrust of Rome has fed their fears and fanned the flames of hatred for their oppressors.

Can we really blame them? We cherish our freedom. How do you suppose we’d feel if we were in their sandals?

Laughing, I replied, "Alexy, most of these people don’t have sandals—they’re barefoot. I know what you’re saying. I would probably despise my oppressors too. For seven decades after Rome assumed control of Judaea, growing Jewish opposition to Roman laws has festered under the surface.

On the other hand, Roman officials have concern because of Jewish nationalism and their religious fervor. The Jews especially despised the Roman imposition of a census of property for tax purposes and what they considered Rome’s heathen traditions. Ancestral land held an exalted position in Jewish ideology and many Jews feared that the new laws would lead to Roman appropriation. These concerns fly in the face of their religious beliefs. In the past we’ve witnessed Jewish uprisings protesting our laws. Those protests led to the crucifixion of thousands of Jewish insurgents and the selling into slavery of perhaps 20,000 more.

Like you said earlier, ‘So, what else is new?’

It’s bad enough that there’s resistance, however the most intense opposition comes from Galilee, which has been considered the center of an armed resistance movement, the Zealots. These rabid citizens are country folk—fishermen, farmers and farm laborers—living on the Sea of Galilee which provides a strong economic base. They are known trouble makers.

Kind of like Spartacus?

"I never thought of it like that. Here it is the fifteenth year of Tiberius Caesar’s reign. Pontius Pilate is governor of Judaea. Herod’s tetrarch of Galilee. His brother Philip is tetrarch of the lands of Ithuraea and of the region of Trachonitis. And Lysanias is the tetrarch of Abilene. You and I both agree that these guys could govern without mayhem.

Sometimes I think my training and education are a curse. Evidently Herod Antipas has some concerns which he relayed to Tiberius Caesar. My superior responded to their concerns and is sending me to Judaea. I was selected because of my military background as well as my knowledge of Roman law, my expertise in languages and my understanding of the Jewish culture, religion and history. And a bit of medical know-how. I’m guessing my father’s military achievements, his command of languages including Aramaic and the Jewish culture in Judaea contributed in part to my selection.

What do you think will come of your trip?

"I don’t know for certain. As you know, my allegiance is to the Empire and to Caesar. As a Roman soldier I’ll do my duty to the Empire, whatever that requires. If by some means a worthy scoundrel is arrested, maybe I’ll return him to Rome so you can battle him in the arena. I’m assuming I’ll return within a few months. I’ll send you a letter to keep in touch. One good thing about Judaea is that I might be able to visit some of my military friends such as Gaius and his wife and daughter in Jerusalem where he’s stationed. I’ll also attempt to look up some of the others.

I’m not particularly apprehensive about the journey, just aggravated that I have to go. The trip by sea could take as long as two months but I trust Jupiter and his brother Neptune will favor me and shorten the journey. Hopefully the sailing season will be kind and I’ll arrive no worse for the wear. I’m scheduled to make landfall at the deep water port of Caesarea in Judaea, one of many projects built by Herod the Great. And I hope to view many other projects we Romans have completed over the years.

It wasn’t long before I embarked on my trip. Since I would start in Ostia at the mouth of the Tiber and one of our largest harbors, I made my way over the cobblestones and through the narrow streets of Rome to the harbor. I could have caught a ride in a naval vessel however in keeping with my cover, I took civilian passage.

I boarded a Corbitas, a round-hulled freighter with a curving prow and stern. The captain told me she was a hundred-ton vessel, not so large as those capable of carrying 350 tons, six hundred passengers or six thousand clay jars (amphorae) of wine, oil, or other liquids, nevertheless a huge ship.

Our manifest included woolen products and tin. The skipper told me the vessel would likely be laden with a combination of wheat or papyrus, timber, spices and purple dye on its return to my homeland.

JOURNAL

I’m off to Israel. We slipped our moorings and eased into the waters bound for Judaea and, in all likelihood, Jerusalem. I’ve had sufficient time to grow my hair and facial hair longer, avoiding the short hair and beardlessness of Roman soldiers. I can now more perfectly blend in with the travelers along the way which will add to my anonymity.

After meeting with Alexius I determined to document my activities in a journal so that I could keep an accurate account until my return to Rome. I wanted to share more with Alexy but am under strict orders of secrecy. I’ll travel as a civilian, ferreting activities that could be detrimental to the Empire. My primary assignment is to monitor a wilderness wild man and to gauge his motives. Since I can’t be everywhere at once, I’ll have a network of agents keeping me posted on unfolding events in their neighborhoods. My assignment is to investigate the rumors and report the details to my superior.

Knowing that it was safest to travel between May and October, I hoped for decent weather. The journey from Rome to Alexandria was a ten day to two month affair, depending upon the weather. Though my destination was not Alexandria, we slipped out of the harbor under favorable seas in good weather, surrounded by the ever present seagulls and sea birds squawking and wheeling overhead.

Although some passengers grumbled about the arrangements, our days were filled with walking the deck, visiting with fellow passengers or sailors and relaxing. I did not mind the requirement of providing my own food, blankets, mattress and cookware. Nothing exciting was happening, just the usual humdrum rocking of the ship as she glided through calm waters.

One positive I look forward to daily is the always changing patterns of the sky. One day while looking overhead toward the heavens, I saw a flock of elongated white-gray sheep grazing in a pale blue field. How could it be more beautiful?

Ten days into our journey while walking the deck I noticed a flotilla of half-dozen triremes. I wondered what these Roman naval vessels were up to. Perhaps they were either on maneuvers or searching for pirates, one of the significant dangers on the high seas.

It was the great Greek historian Thucydides who wrote about pirates’ plundering un-walled villages, causing villagers to build away from the sea to provide further protection from those pirates practicing an honorable profession.

Piracy had become a highly successful business. Because it might include robbery, kidnapping, rape and/or murder, the Roman senate had established rules to address it. Under the watchful eye of Caesar, efforts minimizing piracy on the Great Sea had worked for a period, however in spite of the enforcement, piracy was thriving.

Capturing and selling people as slaves was lucrative and the pirates showed no mercy. More rewarding than selling people was collecting protection money from villages for the reassurance that the pirates would leave the villages alone. Before the protection money was paid, pirates commonly attacked villages using more than one vessel because more men were necessary in order to repel a village full of armed men.

The following afternoon at the rail and contemplating the navy triremes I’d seen the previous day, I recalled some of their history. Those military vessels comprised 200 men—three tiers of 170 rowers and 30 sailors including captain, helmsman, bow-man, time-beater and lookout.

These ships were normally accompanied by a marine detachment. The trireme, fitted with a smaller and a larger mast and square sails, was capable of a top speed of perhaps 7 knots and a sustained speed of 4 knots while resting half the rowing. They could make sixty miles a day in good weather.

My contemplation of triremes was interrupted when I glanced to the horizon and observed a sail. After watching it several minutes as it drew nearer, it was obvious that it was gaining on our craft causing many of us to wonder what was happening. In due time it became obvious that the approaching ship was a bandit—a boat load of pirates.

I was dumbfounded that this ship continued its approach toward mine. Those aboard my ship became more and more alarmed, no doubt anticipating the worst. Will I be robbed? Taken captive? Sold into slavery? Murdered?

As the ship closed, most of the passengers hid in fear while a few men and the crew came on deck to confront the bandits whose ship hove against our starboard rail. Grappling hooks sailed over our side and the bandits ascended the ropes. A few were knocked back by those above but before long some pirates reached our deck.

Though none carried a boarding axe, most were armed with either a cutlass or a dagger sheathed on their belts. Garbed in cutoffs, they vaulted the rail barefoot.

Thinking I could either run through a pirate or push him overboard, I had armed myself with a pike pole. Coupled with the many skills I’d learned from Alexy and my military training, confidence guided me. While others confronted those forward, I challenged one who came over the stern rail. As he squatted preparatory to leaping from the rail, I thrust the point into his chest. He shrieked as I pushed him overboard. Turning quickly I faced another bearded bandit. With no time to poke him I wristed the butt of the pole against the side of his head and he dropped to the deck and lay motionless.

Pandemonium reigned. Cursing and angry threats from both our crew and the bandits filled the air.

Noting that two bandits pulled Ariella toward the rail, I launched myself toward them. That is my last memory.

When I regained consciousness, my head throbbed and I tasted blood. It hurt to open my eyes and when I did, my vision was blurred by something. My head pounded. Warm, sticky liquid ran down my cheek as I tried to sit up. I rubbed my eyes and noticed the shouting and other sounds had ceased. I was finally able to focus my vision and made out a few men near me. Someone had an arm around my back supporting me and another swabbed at my eyes and head with a damp cloth. I slowly realized they were navy men. They must have rescued our group.

The captain of the freighter spoke to me, assuring me that I’d been injured by a blow to the head and a stab wound to my back—evidently two pirates struck me simultaneously, one to the head while a mate struck with his dagger. It appeared my falling forward and away from the dagger reduced the injury I would have sustained.

As instructed, I lay back and four men placed their hands under me and lifted me from the deck. Another cradled my head and they carried me to a room. I thought I noticed smoke but wasn’t in condition to determine that. The captain charged a man acting as doctor to tend my injuries. He addressed my head and back wounds, applying some sort of herb to a cut on my head. I’m not sure what happened after that as I fell asleep. It wasn’t until I awoke the next day that I was informed about the rescue and my care giver.

When I groaned and tried to move, opening my eyes, I heard a woman’s humming. Then she spoke, Easy. You may have a serious head injury. The doctor asked me to keep an eye on you and to alert the captain as soon as you awakened.

She spoke to someone nearby who left. It sounded like Ariella but I wasn’t sure. My head throbbed and my vision was blurry. The area around my right scapula felt tight.

Wanting more information about the attack I asked, Can you tell me what happened…was it yesterday?

Yes. Yesterday. You remember the pirates boarding our ship?

The last I remember is that two pirates pulled Ariella toward the rail.

I’m Ariella. They reached the rail with me then noticed three Roman navy ships approaching. Two vessels pulled up outside the pirate ship while the third cut them off by pulling in front of them. A band of Roman sailors and marines vaulted aboard the pirate ship, I think a mixture of men from both navy ships.

Where did the navy ships come from? They weren’t about when we watched the pirate ship.

The captain said they had lain in wait for pirate action, coming from behind the headlands on the island of Cauda, just south of Kriti.

That makes sense. Have you any idea how long the battle lasted? And what was the result?

"I’m not sure. My father said about twenty minutes. I was fighting for my release. When the pirates holding me saw the navy sailors, they released me to fight for their lives.

"I think that’s when you were injured. I rushed to safety. My father said after the pirates were subdued, the officer in charge condemned them to the sea, except three men—their captain and two others. The navy commander said he would free them when they were near landfall, expecting them to be witnesses to others as to what they could expect from pirating if caught.

The navy commandeered beneficial supplies and some sailors fired the pirate ship while others kept the water-bound pirates at bay. Once the ship was aflame and a blaze overwhelmed it, the pirates who clung to the hull swam futilely from it. We sailed away and the three navy ships soon sailed off to the north.

So, I did see smoke. How did our crew fare?

A few were injured but no one killed. I was most concerned for my father but he is okay. During the initial attack I wondered if the pirates might take my father for ransom, perhaps having discovered his line of business. When I saw you fighting the pirates, I was amazed by the way you fought.

I learned a great deal from my friend Alexy the gladiator. Perhaps you’ve heard of him? After his time as a tribune in the Roman army he joined the gladiators as a free man.

I do not know him but I have seen him. One day my girlfriend and I saw him on a street in Rome and she told me about him. He has some kind of fame.

Yes, he does. And he’s a wonderful friend and man.

How are you feeling now? You had a nasty cut on your back.

I’m stiff and sore but I think I’m feeling better. I’m assuming my injuries will heal and I’ll be close to normal by the time we reach Caesarea Maritima or shortly thereafter. I’m looking forward to landing and visiting the city. My father supervised the building of the two breakwaters for the artificial harbor during his military days.

By now the captain had arrived and questioned me about my condition, looked at my wounds and assured me that they appeared to be much improved. He said I would be examined more closely when we reached port.

During those days I continued to improve and developed a more pronounced relationship with those aboard who claimed I was some kind of hero for my daring against the pirates. They expressed their sympathy for my injuries and best wishes for good health. I made it a point