Pirata: The Gates of Stone

Book 2: Pirata

by Simon Scarrow, T.J. Andrews

Genres: Ancient; Historical Thrillers; Historical Fiction

Synopsis

Part two in the brand new Roman pirate series by Sunday Times bestselling authors Simon Scarrow and T. J. Andrews.

AD 25, the Adriaticum. Pirate ships hunt merchantmen across the stormy waters of the vast seas. But their control of these waters is threatened by the actions of a callous Roman commander...

Ship's boy Telemachus has left behind grinding poverty in the Piraeus to join the crew of the merchant ship Selene. Only recently a scrawny youth, he has become a strong and skilled seafarer after weeks of hardship at sea. Now he has fallen into the hands of pirates: brutal men, who take pleasure in vicious acts against their victims and, sometimes, each other.

As a pirate recruit under Captain Bulla, Telemachus faces cruel initiation rites and the dangerous enmity of the ship's ambitious first mate. He takes heart from the goal that drives him: of amassing the fortune he needs to rescue his older brother from slavery. But the men of Bulla's Poseidon's Trident face many dangers: Prefect Canis, commander of the Ravenna fleet, has them in his sights, while rival pirate gangs hunt the same seas. Telemachus quickly learns that fate, as much as courage or cunning, will decide his future . . .

The full novel of PIRATA is available now.

(P)2019 Headline Publishing Group Ltd

Release date: February 21, 2019

Publisher: Headline

Print pages: 84

Sample

Chapter One

Somewhere along the Illyrian coast, spring AD 25

Dusk gathered around the pirate ship as she glided slowly towards the beach. On the aft deck of Poseidon’s Trident, Captain Bulla stared at the shoreline and the distant mountains beyond. Beside him sat a small group of bedraggled-looking figures: the captured crew of the merchantman Selene. The sailors had fought the pirates with surprising ferocity and determination, and Bulla had decided to spare their lives and offer them a chance to join his crew. It was an offer they had only accepted with great reluctance. Perhaps the sight of their captain’s severed head had swayed their decision, Bulla thought to himself with a smile. Well, their loyalty would be guaranteed soon enough. After sailing north until the evening, the captain had decided to seek a safe anchorage in the mass of islands and inlets lining the Illyrian coastline. It was getting dark, and with the ship carrying a full hold and riding low in the water, he didn’t want to sail on through the night and risk running aground on any shoals.

He turned to the first mate: a thickset man running to fat, with dark locks and a face set into a permanent scowl. Hector had a rare talent when it came to killing and striking fear into other men. That was why Bulla had selected him as his second in command, in spite of the man’s limited seafaring abilities. They had sailed together on Poseidon’s Trident for the past five years, commanding a crew of some of the most bloodthirsty, violent pirates to be found in the Empire.

Bulla nodded at him. ‘Have the men prepare to beach, Hector.’

‘Aye, Captain,’ Hector responded gruffly. He tipped his head at the captive sailors. Many of them bore fresh scars from the bitter skirmish that had been fought the previous night on the deck of the cargo vessel. ‘What about these miserable scum?’

Bulla considered for a moment. ‘We’ll initiate them as soon as we’ve landed. The ship’s undermanned. It’s about time we pressed them into the ranks.’

‘As you wish, Captain.’

Bulla abruptly turned and descended through the hatch opening leading into the small cabin below deck, while Hector marched towards the mast amidships, barking orders at the crew. A burly captive with dark curly hair watched the first mate move away and shook his head bitterly.

‘Bastard pirates. We would’ve landed at Salonae by now if we hadn’t run into this lot. We could have been getting blind drunk and sampling the local talent. Instead we’re stuck on this tub.’

The grizzled sailor next to him gave his companion a hard look. ‘Bloody typical, Geras. We’re being pressed into service by the most notorious cut-throats on the Adriaticum, and all you’re worried about is missing out on a few tarts.’

Geras shrugged. ‘Just saying.’

The sailor to his right, a scrawny youth with a heavily scarred chin, glanced around the bay. ‘Where do you think we are, Leitus?’

The older sailor stared at the mountains and rubbed his greying stubble. ‘We passed Ragusa a while back. This must be one of the islands near Corcyra Nigra. Looks like we’ll be setting anchors for the night. Their base must be further to the north somewhere, I imagine.’

‘Maybe the navy will find us before we get there,’ Geras suggested.

‘In these islands?’ Leitus snorted. ‘I doubt it, lad. Even if they do stumble upon us, the Romans won’t treat us differently from the other pirates.’

The youth furrowed his brow. ‘But we are different. Aren’t we? We’re not pirates. Their captain forced us to surrender and join his crew.’

‘Forced or not, Telemachus, as far as Rome’s concerned we’re all the same. Besides, why would they believe our story? Every captured pirate from here to Miletus claims that they were taken against their will.’

‘Leitus is right,’ Geras cut in. ‘As soon as we accepted the captain’s offer, we became enemies of Rome. Fairly or not, we’re all marked men now. Either way, we’re fucked.’

Telemachus swallowed hard. ‘Should we try to escape?’

‘Not unless you want to get your head parted from your shoulders. You make a run for it, this lot will cut you down before you can get far. We’re bloody miles from the nearest port.’

‘What are we going to do, then?’

‘Keep your head down,’ Leitus said carefully. ‘Don’t make any enemies, and for the gods’ sakes, try not to get killed.’

The sailors fell into gloomy silence as Poseidon’s Trident approached the beach. Hector shouted a command and all spare hands moved towards the aft deck to help lift the ship’s bows on approach. While several of the other prisoners muttered prayers to the gods or talked in low whispers about the possibility of escape, Telemachus watched the pirates cautiously. Although he feared these men, his initial dread had gradually subsided as his restless mind turned to thoughts of survival. Perhaps there was an opportunity here. The sailors aboard Selene had often swapped tales of atrocities committed by the pirates, but they had also mentioned the riches such crews had plundered. If that was true, perhaps he might yet make his fortune, as a pirate instead of a ship’s boy. And if he was going to be a condemned man, he might as well die rich . . .

A jarring shudder shook him out of his thoughts as the bows ground to a halt on the shingle. Bulla shouted for the men to ship oars and a sturdy gangway was lowered down the starboard side of the prow. The pirates swiftly disembarked, bringing ashore amphorae filled with wine to celebrate their successful raid. Several cooking fires were lit on the shore, and soon the faint aroma of roasting pork wafted across the decks. Telemachus felt his belly growl with hunger. It had been almost a day since any of the sailors had eaten anything, and the thought of a cooked meal provided fresh torment for the captives.

Once the decks had been cleared and the hatches covered, Hector strode briskly over and kicked the nearest sailor. ‘Get up, you worthless shits!’

Telemachus climbed slowly to his feet with the other men. His muscles were stiff and sore from the long hours he’d spent on the deck, and the flesh wound on his left shoulder throbbed with painful intensity. But his physical discomfort was nothing compared to the anxiety tightening in his guts.

‘What’s happening?’ he asked.

Hector stared at him, his face glowering with hatred. ‘Time for you to be sworn in, boy. You and the rest of your happy little band.’ His lips parted in a sinister grin. ‘Hurry along. Captain’s got a surprise for you.’

‘Surprise?’ an overweight sailor with thinning hair repeated. ‘What do you mean?’

The pirate’s grin widened. ‘Now that would be telling, wouldn’t it?’ Then his expression hardened. ‘Get a fucking move on. All of you. The captain’s waiting for you on the beach.’

He turned and led the sailors towards the gangway. Telemachus, Leitus and Geras fell into step behind the others as they shuffled along the weathered planking. The portly sailor ahead of them kept glancing around nervously, his eyes wide with fear.

‘This can’t be happening. . .