#roman merchant ship

[ltwilliammowett]

Rigged model of a Roman merchant ship (151-250 AD), with sails, swan stern ornament and one figure, in glazed case (see Note), by Alfred Charles Jackson, High Salvington, Worthing, West Sussex, England, 1934-1935.

This model was based on a drawing of a Roman sailing ship of the 2nd century AD, prepared in the Science Museum by the use of contemporary reliefs, two from the mouth of the Tiber and two from the Syrian Coast. Ships such as this brought corn to Rome from the coast of Egypt and the Levant.

[kabuki-writes]

A Reflection Of Venus

chapter: 1 chapter 2

pairing: emperor geta/emperor caracalla x acacius' daughter!reader

summary: For years Acacius was able to keep his precious and only daughter away from the Emperor's eyes. But after his latest victory, he couldn't evade the already inevitable.

warning(s): mention of alcohol consumption | swearing | sexual implications | semi-edited | english is not my first language, faults may occur | please let me know if i missed anything

Note: Reader is the daughter of General Acacius and his wife, which is not Lucilla in this fanfiction.

word count: 3.1k

General Acacius was a hero for the Roman Empire, a sun that was burning brighter with every new victory he won in a new war campaign ordered by Emperor Geta and his twin brother Emperor Caracalla. The reign of the twins was nothing compared to one of their deceased father Emperor Septimius Severus, who was once one of the closest friends and brother-in-arms of Acatius. While Severus fought wars mainly to protect the borders of the already massive Empire, his sons' hunger for expansion became clear from the very first day they inherited the title "Emperor". And general Acacius became their tool in this project. Nothing was too expensive, they backed him with legions, war-ships, the best equipment and supply, and the capable general became an unstoppable force, a soldier of the God Mars himself. But at what cost?

As the years went on, he'd rarely been home, always travelling with his marching soldiers and being on the front line of every battle he fought. And when he came back, he felt sick from all the pomp and gold the Emperor's threw at him, the victory processions through Rome, while the smell of blood still lingered in his nose and the cries of the women and children echoed in his mind. It was one of those days. The sun stood high over the wide street that lead to the Palatin, the sides filled with the cheering crowd - common people, soldiers, slaves, senators, merchants, they all celebrated his victory in a triumphant procession. His marching soldiers were led by Acacius chariot, clothed in the white armor of a victor. His face could've been one to be carved in marble, stoic and upright, facing the great Palatin, where the Emperors would await him.

Geta and Caracalla - the twin-sons of Septimius Severus, Emperors of Rome. They stoof there in golden Armor like sun gods with their golden crowns on top of their short gingerblonde hair. Their unusual pale skin was a testament to their wealth as they could afford to stay out of the sun, which burns especially hot on summer days like this one, and of course on the battlefields in Africa, where Acatius' men had to fight against the rebellious Nubians. They awaited their victor with proud smiles on their lips, while Acacius' procession ended at the footsteps of the Emperor's palace. He walked the marble steps towards them, his long cloak moved in tact with his walk. He didn't look forward to see the faces of Rome's tyrants again, but they hadno idea.

Instead, he greeted them as he was used to. His hand on his chest, speaking the words.

"I greet you, my Emperors. Nubia is no more. I present a new victory to you, to the realm and to the Roman people."

With a proud look on their faces and a wide smile, the twins stepped forward. Emperor Geta hold the laurel wreath of victory in his hands and places it on top of Acacius' greying hair.

"And Rome rewards it's heroes with gratitude and admiration. We bow to your victories, General Acacius."

With those words, he offered him to turn around and face the celebrating crowd. Geta and Caracalla took their places at his side, giving him a moment of spotlight, applauded by the people, while they did benefit from it as well. Acatius was their general, their armored knight. Every victory he presented was another triumph for their own reign and power. After the earned celebration in front of the common folk, the Emperors and Acacius retreated inside, where servants quickly served them wine for a toast.

"Another great victory, you never disappoint us, dear Acatius," Geta expressed and hold his glass up for a toast, his brother Caracalla following the gesture. "To the glory of the Roman Empire".

"To the glory of your reign", Acacius lied and took a sip from his glass, trying to numb himself a bit with the taste of the alcohol. How he hated conversations with both of them.

" But don't get too comfy here, my brother and i were already discussing another campaign soon. You'll get everything you need, just tell us how many soldiers and ships and it will be granted," Geta explained, which left a bitter taste in Acacius mouth. His jaw clenched for a moment, while he tried everything not to show his distaste about another war campaign.

"Please forgive me, my Emperor, but isn't the realm big enough already? Rome has already difficulties to feed the people. Further expansion would-"

"They can eat war", Emperor Caracalla threw in with an almost diabotical grin, while Acacius got a warning eye from Geta. It was clear that his words weren't the ones both wanted to hear right now.

"Don't worry about things like that, Acacius. You're a military general, your job is to win battles - nothing more. Do you understand?"

"I understand," he answered, even though he hated to hear that he was reduced to this. He'd experienced war and peace alike and therefore he knew about the dangers of continuing this madness. Moments like this really let him question if those maniacs were of the same blood as Septimius Severus.

"But you're right, you've earned yourself at least a bit of rest - one or two weeks. Don't worry, we've taken care about the wellbeing of your family. They got everything they needed and more in our attempt to show our gratitude for your service to the throne. Speaking of which.... we expect you to join us for a great feast tonight - here in the palace. A party to celebrate your victory, it is accompanied by a couple of fights in the arena tomorrow," Geta explained joyfully, while Acatius tried to keep his mask up.

"I am incredibly honored, but would prefer to spend time with family after being away for such a long time."

"The Emperors show you their gratitude and you're insulting us. We expect you to come and you will come", Caracalla hissed with a sudden shift of tone, his eyes staring at Acacius in clear anger, while his brother placed his hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. But his staring eyes were warning Acatius once again.

"Of course, we don't just invite you, but your whole family. Bring your wife and... you have a daughter, if i'm not mistaken? We haven't had the pleasure of getting to know her yet, since you never brought her to any festivities. I am sure she will be delighted, if you don't plan on hiding her again."

Acacius stood there in silence, a reaction that made Caracalla burst out into laughter as if he'd just heard the funniest joke from his brother. The respected general didn't even look at him, why should he. Standing here in front of them should've been an honor, yet it felt like a disgrace. They were nothing but spoiled kids with the power of an empire in their hands. And now they even forced him to reveal his dear daughter to them. Something he tried to avoid for too long, knowing fully well about the debauchery and excessiveness of Geta and Caracalla.

"We're waiting for an answer, Acacius?", Caracalla purred with a wide grin on his pale face, revealing his gold tooth.

"It will be an honor to be your guest... together with my daughter."

_____________________________________________

You watched the face of your father sunken away in his thoughts, as you made made your way to the palace in a palanquin carried by a couple of slaves and protected by soldiers. The city was painted in darkness which made the palace seem like a temple with all the lights that welcomed you. It was an exciting moment for an upper-class lady to be a guest at the palace, especially for you, a woman that usually stayed away from the most parties. Not because you wanted to, but because it was an order from your father. You obeyed, yet it bothered you, even more when you'd reached the age of a young woman - the age in which it was expected from you to find a proper husband.

"Why are you so worried, father?", you finally managed to get off your lips, pulling Acacius out of the battle he fought in his head. He couldn't just tell you that he despised all of this and especially the Emperors himself as he couldn't be sure if someone outside this palanquin could hear him. So he simply took your hand and placed a soft and caring kiss on the ring that had been a present for your last name day.

"I guess I'm rather tired than worried. The parties in the palace are always quite excessive, music, dances, feasts... i just came back from the desert and now i have to enjoy all those things", he sighed and looked at you. "And i don't want to stay too long, especially not till the orgy starts. The servants will come and bring us home before that." And even you knew he would rather go and murder Dyonisos himself than allowing his daughter to stay and witness this.

All those words and yet you knew it wasn't everything.

"I'm glad that you take me with you this time. I've only known the imperial palace from afar," you confessed, while you straightened the long, blue dress you wore. It was decorated with all sorts of silver embroidery and jewelry, encapturing the stars and moon. Your long hair was styled by your servant Yanna into a high braid and finalized with a silver diadem. For the first time you really got the chance to make yourself so presentable that you almost felt like a princess. In the end, you were about to meet the Emperors which made it important to look like the woman you were - the daughter of a general. And you also presented his household tonight, because your mother felt sick tonight. She often suffered from migraine, which kept her a prisoner for days sometimes.

"You really look beautiful", your father said to you, it was honest, but there was a hint of worry in his eyes, which you still couldn't grasp. But there was no chance to take this conversation further as the palanquin stopped. Acacius got out first to help you out. He knew the way as it wasn't the first time for him to attent an official ceremony or party here. Through a long corridor you reached a large room with with an open access to the garden terrace facing the beautiful gardens. It was packed with people from the Roman upper-class, wealthy merchants, politicians and military officers, who were accompanied by their wives, sons and daughters. While they chatted and feasted on the large selection of delicious looking food, a group of musicians played their melodies to which professional dancers moved their bodies.

All those private parties at the homes of your friends seemed to vanish straight from your mind, nothing could be compared to what you were seeing now. It nearly took your breath away, while two royals were watching you from the other side of the room.

_____________________________________________

Geta and Caracalla were sitting on a higher ground, which was highly decorated with two golden chaise longues, cushions and velvet drapes. They were accompanied by a selected group of slaves, women and men, who were assigned to bring them anything they wanted, to do anything they wanted.

While Geta was in in a conversation with one of the senators, which clearly bored him according to his facial expressions, it was Caracalla, who noticed the new guest first, while he fed his little monkey Dondus a grape.

"Such a shame that he hid his daughter for so long. She is a gorgeous looking bird, don't you think? ", he whispered to his brother with a mischievous grin, patting his arm so that he would turn his attention to Acacius and you. Geta's eyes quickly went to you, admiring the way your dress hugged the shape of your curves.

"The gods must've sent us Venus herself to honor us with her presence," Geta answered, while an unreadable smile played on his lips. „No wonder our dear General is so protective of her. Is she already promised to someone?“

„Why do you ask me!?“ Caracalla snapped back, as if his brother didn’t know that he had a lot of spies around the city, who delivered him the newest gossip from the streets of Rome. With an annoyed eye roll, he leaned forward, adjusting the golden laurel wreath on his head. „No, she is a blank parchment. Probably untouched too.“

Geta still watched you with an intense interest as if you were a rare diamond, he needed to claim. But he was not the only one in this room, because Caracalla stared at his brother, noticing the way he looked at you. There it was again, the old melody. Whenever he wanted something, Geta wanted it too. They already shared the title of Emperors, their wealth, their whores… It was already something that cooked in him for a long time. But now he had an eye on you and wasn't happy about the fact that Geta might try to get you too.

Before he could even bring this thought to an end, his twin brother Geta already stood up from his chaise lounge and made his way through the crowd, the direction was clear. Caracalla's nose twitched in a mixture of nervousness and anger, and he got up quickly as well, not as gracefully as he wanted to, but he didn’t care. He had to tame the inner urge to backstab his brother before he could even reach you.

_____________________________________________

You still stood at the side of your father sipping on your first goblet of fine wine, while your eyes went over all the different guests and the excessive decor. Your father was sunken in a conversation with another general, Marcus Galbanus, an old friend and brother-in-arms of Acacius. But their conversation quickly stopped as soon as the Emperors approached them. Both your father and Marcus Galbanus lowered their heads and greeted them according to the etiquette, while you curtsied deep. This was the very first time you got the chance to meet the Emperor's of Rome Caracalla and Geta. And given the importance of those two figures, you even felt a little nervous.

"We almost feared you wouldn't show up to your own party, Acacius. But we're happy you made your way here... we already heard that your dear wife lays sick. Please, send her our best wishes. Nonetheless we would be delighted if you could introduce us to your company tonight", Geta demanded in a playful tone, knowing how much Acacius had tried to delay this. Caracalla stood at his side, his staring blue eyes drilled themselves into your appearence. Even though he was a man that had tasted a lot of men and women, one even more sensual than the other, your whole appearence, your face, your lips, your smile, everything - you reached a sentience in his mind that could only be gifted by the gods. The mere thought of having you infected his brain like a curse.

You could sense the tension that raised in your father as if everything in him resisted the situation. Yet he placed his hand softly on your shoulder and did as they wished. "This is my daughter, y/n..."

"I'm honoured to meet the Emperors of Rome", you said in a soft voice, earning you an appreciating smile by Geta and an unreadable grin of Caracalla.

"Oh the pleasure is on our side, my dearest. How do you like this Ceremony in honor of your father's victories?", Geta asked. But before you could even answer, his brother added, while he took another sip of his wine "Your father is a Roman hero through and through, isn't it right Acacius?" His tone had something else in it, almost as if it was some kind of mistrust. But you needed to ignore the irritation you felt and simply nodded.

"It is breathtaking. I've never witnessed something like this and it makes me incredible proud to see the gratitute he earned himself through the love he has for Rome and its people," you answered, trying to remind the Emperor's of Acacius loyality, which was undoubtful.

"Then you'll enjoy the ceremony in the arena tomorrow as well, i'm sure. Please, we invite your father and you to be our guests."

"I don't think that such entertainment is suited for a young woman of her status," your father suddenly interfered in a calm yet set tone, only earning the laugh of Caracalla. "Let your daughter decide for herself, General."

The atmosphere shifted to an unspoken intensity. You could sense your father's worries and given all what you've heard from the colosseum, you didn't really think of it as something worth to witness. Seeing people die in such a terrible way only for the pleasures of the masses seemed like a farce. Acacius always called it the most needless form of brutality amongst humans, he despised this himself and therefore avoided going into the arena whenever he could. But you also read the eyes of Geta and his brother, who waited for your answer and would not accept a simple 'No'.

"It would be an honour," you answered, and Geta leaned forward a bit, which made your father's jaw clench in anger. Not because of your answer, he was aware that a choice was not existing, when facing an Emperor, but because the way the twins looked at you as if you were a price they could simply claim. But you were a smart girl and definitely not naive, so he fully relied on that.

"So this is a 'Yes'?", Geta asked again and you looked him straight in the eyes, not backing off. "Yes."

"Excellent!", Caracalla shouted and clapped into his hands. "We'll have a lot of fun tomorrow."

The corners of Geta's mouth twitched to a smile and he nodded in response to his twin. Yet he hid his displeasure of having him as a rival in this little game. It was clear that Caracalla had layed his eyes on you too, but he won't allow him to simply take and fuck you like you were a common whore. Maybe you could've potential for something more and strenghten his position as well as his popularity. Because both Emperors were still unmarried - and it was expected from them that this would change sooner or later.

[shadyufo]

Cryptids & Creatures of Folklore Drawtober Day 2 — Porphyrios

During the 6th century, the waters around Constantinople were home to a 45ft whale that was notorious for attacking and sinking merchant ships, fishing vessels, and even ships belonging to the Roman navy.

Sailors who encountered the whale named him Porphyrios. The exact translation of this name is not certain but some believe it may have referred to the purple color of the whale—so something like "Purple Boy."

Locals feared the whale but were also fascinated by him. Some accounts describe boats of people that would go out hoping to catch a glimpse of Porphyrios even though they ran the risk of being attacked themselves.

Porphyrios' fifty year reign of terror came to an end when he accidentally beached himself while chasing a pod of dolphins near the mouth of the Sakarya River. Locals quickly fell on the whale, brutally killing him and feasting on his remains.

No one is entirely certain what type of whale Porphyrios was. A wayward sperm whale is most likely though some theorize he was an orca. Or perhaps he was some more ancient whale species or one still unknown to science.

[flaroh]

Io Mercuralia to my fav! 👟🐓💸

OTD May 15, Roman merchants celebrated Mercury's festival by sprinkling sacred water on their ships, goods, and themselves for good fortune in business

[city-of-ladies]

"Around the year 200, two Roman women, Ailia Isidora and Ailia Olympias, walked through the impressive temple gates at Medamound, a temple complex outside of Luxor, Egypt. Their arms were heavy with an offering to the goddess Leto. They had just returned from a successful voyage across the Red Sea and were coming to thank their patroness. In the recorded dedication, we hear their voices echo back to us millennia later. They described themselves as “distinguished matrons, Red Sea ship owners and merchants.”

Ailia Isidora and Ailia Olympias weren’t the only female merchants in antiquity, says Carrie Atkins, an archaeology professor at the University of Toronto who has uncovered more than 20 references to female merchants in the early centuries of the Roman Republic. While some of these women were passive shipowners, others were heavily involved in the financing, managing, and perhaps even sailing of these merchant vessels."

[stephaniebrownslover]

CREEPYPASTA PIRATE AU-PART I

Okay so it would be reaaaaaaaly nice if anyone could ask or draw anything because the only thing I can do is writing and even that's suck.

But I really needed a pirate AU. Although, this post is more like why they became a pirate.

I did some research but I'm willing to listen the tips and facts that will come from you. Also sorry for grammar mistakes.

And I've told you guys that I had so many creepypasta AU's.

Main characters

-Slenderman

➤Captain

➠The captain of a pirate ship was very often the arch-criminal brains of the pirate operations.

When he got kicked out of the national army as a high-ranking soldier because of incorrect accusations, he decided to rebel this corrupted government while considering one's own interest.

He bought the ship called "Laverna" with all of his life savings. This name means the roman goddess of thieves and the underworld, and he thought this would be the perfect name for her.

Slenderman was the nickname they called him in army because of his tallness. But he uses this name for not forgetting where he comes from. To remember how his country betrayed him.

-Jeff The Killer

➤Cooper

➠The Cooper ensured the barrels remained as airtight and watertight as possible, and he could dismantle empty barrels to increase space for newly captured cargo. The cooper also made and repaired buckets.

He was nothing more than a criminal who sentenced to death when Slenderman had found him. He saved him only because of his long reputation. Jeff doesn't know why Slenderman kidnapped him the day of his execution but he likes to push Slenderman to the edge.

Jeff and Liu were staying in different orphanages while they were kids, and they hadn't see each other for about five years. Not until Jeff burned the orphanage he was staying to the ground because of the attendant nuns.

The nuns were fully convinced that he was possessed by a demon and they were hurting him to get that out. Jeff used the matches he stole from dining hall to burn them. They not only hurt Jeff physically but also mentally in the ritual.

-Clockwork

➤Quartermaster

➠A pirate quartermaster was often the second-in-command, and below him were the first and second mates. He was, then, the equivalent of a merchant First Mate or a naval First Lieutenant.

Natalie grew up in a very poor family. Her mother was a prostitute and her father was the one reason why she had born. He sweared that he would be a good father and he named their daughter as 'Natalie'. But he left the day she born.

She had a tough childhood and she always had to fought for what she wanted. One day, when her father decided to meet with them, he hated Natalie because of how impolite and bearish she was. He convinced her mother who wanted a husband to take care of herself to send Natalie to a mental asylum. This could only mean a death sentence for Natalie.

She escaped while they were on the road of asylum and she run to the sea. She thought that there was no chance of life left for her at the land area as she was a high wanted person who killed her kidnappers. She met with Slenderman at there and Slenderman offered her a job because of how fast the rumours spread. She introduced herself as Clockwork, because she felt sick in the stomach everytime she heard the name her father chose for her.

-Masky

➤Quartermaster

➠A pirate quartermaster was often the second-in-command, and below him were the first and second mates. He was, then, the equivalent of a merchant First Mate or a naval First Lieutenant.

He is one of the first slaves Slenderman had bought for his crew. Tim, or the nickname as he goes, Masky, was a soldier from enemy country. All of his mans died in a battle, and they sold him as a slave with broken ribs that guaranteed he couldn't try to escape.

When Slenderman bought him, he hated to being pitied, especially by an enemy who lacked honour. He tried to fight back and resist being a slave but Slenderman beated him in order to prevent his escape.

He works for Slenderman even though he hates him more than anything. He owns him his life and he now is a slave of his principles. He cannot betray a person who saved him from death or a worse destiny but that doesn't mean he has to like his master.

-Ticci Toby

➤Boatswain

➠The boatswain supervised all those tasks requiring seamanship and was responsible for the ship’s stores and ensuring the ship’s rigging, sails, and anchors were in good working condition.

Toby was born in a family full of sailors. His life had been on the ocean even though he hated it. He wanted to get high education and create something with his bare hands. Being a salesman hadn't caught his interest at all.

That's why his father and he had so many arguments. They couldn't agree on anything and their fights became more violent each time. His father was the only one in the family who didn't support his education dreams and he was the only one who had right to do something about it.

When his family's ship sank because of a very dangerous storm, he was the only one who could survive. He was the only one who knew to swim and he couldn't save neither of his sister or mother. Slenderman saved him when he spotted that Toby was swimming towards his ship. Toby decided to stay in the ship as he had no future lying ahead of himself and he didn't even know where he was.

-Nina The Killer

➤Musician

➠They were useful as a source of rhythm to aid manual tasks like pulling rigging, to create a cacophony of noise which contributed to the general terror of a pirate attack, and they were at the beck and call of any of the crew who had the impulse to be entertained.

She was in the same orphanage with Jeff and Nina loved how he was the only person who could defend himself against the meaningless rules. She idolized him but this was only because of the lack of role modals in her life.

She was locked in a dark room while Jeff burned the orphanage because the nuns caught her playing the piano in the church before and a girl making music was inappropiate. No one came to save her and more than half of her body burned.

Nina escaped the orphanage that day the time firemans came. She followed the tracks of Jeff and she played piano and singed songs in pubs for a living for years. When she heard Slenderman took Jeff, she tracked the ship and basically begged for him to take her with him. Slenderman had heard her musical talents before and decided took her to his ship.

-Kate The Chaser

➤Gunner

➠The ship’s team of cannon operators was led by the gunner, who shouted the order 'Fire!' and who was assisted by a gunner’s mate.

She was the only daughter of a very well-known aristocrat family. They wanted her to be their perfect heir for the family ans they pushed her for this through all her life. But she never liked this. She never talked much, she never obeyed their rules, she never became the daughter they wanted.

She started to escape in order to train herself in archery and gun using. She worked really hard to became the best at what she was doing and she dedicated her life to this, because she viewed doing what she always wanted was a riot against her family.

She built a reputation as 'The Chaser', known as a very feared underground criminal. When the karma came for her and she get caught, her family rejected her. The only one who offered her help was the Slenderman. She accepted as she had no other choice and she became one of his crew.

-Zalgo

➤Major

➠In the army major is a field officer above the rank of captain and below the rank of lieutenant colonel. It is equivalent to the naval rank of lieutenant commander in the other uniformed services.

He and Slenderman were really close friends back in the army days. They were two very close friends when they had went to military service. They even gave the decision to stay in the military for their future career together.

But Slenderman was better than him. Zalgo was nothing but a shadow of Slenderman, but he didn't mind it. When Slenderman got promoted before him and he heard the sickening rumors, he knew ha had to do something about it. He spread improper facts and made inorrect evidence against Slenderman's sake.

Slenderman had given the nickname Zalgo to him. After he got fired from the national army, he couldn't face the fact what he did, so he still goes by this name. He still respects Slenderman, that's why he is very determined about consignin his old friend to the government and killing him by his own hands.

Random facts about this AU

This universe sets in 17th century, in the beginning of the Golden Ages of pirates.

*¹ The only active couple in this universe is Jane and Mary but they're not married. Being homosexual is counting as a huge crime and neither of them want to risk the other's life.

Slenderman is one of the most feared Pirate's ever in the history. They respect him and they do whatever he says except some members of his crew. Maybe that's why he still keeps them as their crew. No one knows the reason.

...

*¹ I want everyone to enjoy this AU without minding the ships. But shipping is totally fine as long as they're not weird like Sally x anyone!

Again, questions are open for everyone!!!

[sharingmystoriesetc]

Faber suae fortunae

Or Maider's love story towards freedom.

81 A.D.

Maider's life had never been easy.

Firstly, because of her family.

Her mother, an authentic oriental beauty, according to her father, had died giving birth to her.

And her father, a jewish nobleman and intellectual fallen into disgrace, had entrusted her to the Ben-Hur family, in the beautiful Jerusalem.

There, Maider had grown up as a sister to the family's heirs, learning to read, write, and do arithmetic. She had been educated to be Sarah Ben-Hur's maid of honor, who was her age. The two had become friends, and Sarah and the rest of the family loved Maider dearly.

They loved her sense of humor, her playfulness, and her voice.

Maider, in fact, had a wonderful singing voice. Clear, powerful. Juda Ben-Hur told her she was the most talented singer in all Jerusalem. Maider didn’t think it was true, but the praise never failed to make her blush.

Her father Jeremiah visited her from time to time, and every single time he taught her a new song. When Maider sang, time seemed to stop. And Maider could feel a strong connection to the divine, with whom she had never had, in her opinion, a good relationship.

Then, in the blink of an eye, everything changed.

The Romans oppression to Jewish people was growing stronger, and one day, a Roman officer visiting Jerusalem saw Maider at the market and ordered his soldiers to take her as a slave. As a possession of the Empire.

She, a young woman with thin light eyes and straight dark hair, would fetch a lot of money as a slave for a wealthy Roman family, and would be a perfect lover for him during the voyage back to Rome.

Maider, blessed with an extraordinarily strong personality and resilience, couldn’t help but burst into tears.

The Ben-Hur family couldn’t do anything but try to persuade the Roman officer. But it was all useless.

Maider was chained and taken to Jaffa’s port.

Her father desperately ran after her, shouting to try to buy her freedom, but a legionnaire struck him with the hilt of a dagger, leaving him unconscious on the street.

Maider started screaming, but the legionnaire gave her the same treatment as her father.

And everything went black.

***

Maider woke up in chains, being pushed to board a ship.

In fact, a merchant ship bound for Rome, as she had learned.

She tried to wriggle out of the grasp of the legionnaire who held her chains tightly, but it was all in vain.

As soon as the Roman officer saw her, despite the huge bruise on her temple, he found her very exotic and beautiful, and with a smirk, ordered her to be taken to his cabin.

Maider was thrown into the officer’s cabin as the ship set sail.

She and the man looked at each other. He was handsome, but his dark eyes transmitted coldness and toughness. He looked at her like a butcher watches a piece of meat.

Maider shivered.

He had a defined physique. If she rebelled, he would overpower her in seconds. So, instinctively, she held out her hands.

"Wait, slow down. Let's be reasonable for a second”.

The officer gave her a puzzled look.

"I was told you were educated, but not that you spoke my language so well”.

"I speak several languages. And I also know that my value as a slave would decrease if you got me pregnant”.

He smirked.

"We'll take that risk”.

Maider shivered again, but did not show it.

"Listen, I beg you. I can make it enjoyable. I'm a virgin; you'll sell me better in Rome with that characteristic. But I've heard stories. Ways I can satisfy you without you taking my virtue”.

He laughed.

"I know what you're talking about. But it's not as satisfying”.

"I can imagine. But let me try. I'm not the only slave on this ship, and I'm sure there are other women just as beautiful whose virtue is less important than mine”.

Maider felt like sinking for what she had said, but she had to stay alert. At that moment, it was life or death.

She didn’t know that, but she had been lucky. The officer was smarter than the average. He quickly realized that with some adjustments, he could get the best out of the situation. He would humiliate the girl but preserve her virginity. And he would still sleep with any other woman he wanted. It seemed inviting to him. Something new.

"All right, young slave. Show me what you can do”.

Maider tried to isolate her mind. She would have liked to cry, scream, and struggle.

But it would have been useless.

The officer had to think she was strong, intelligent, and cunning, at least as much as he was.

No matter how much he humiliated her, he had to consider her his equal.

Only then would she arrive in Rome unharmed.

She gave him a lascivious look and approached him.

***

Twenty days of hell.

Twenty days in which Maider managed not to be violated but humiliated herself in every possible way.

Twenty days in which she slept in the officer’s cabin, on the floor, letting herself cry only when he was asleep.

Twenty days in which she almost lost herself. Almost. Because in moments of solitude, she sang her parents’ songs to herself and felt she was not alone.

Once arrived in Ostia, the passage to Rome was without particular problems.

The other slaves on the ship called her the “officer’s whore," and whenever they saw her, they did not spare her insults.

Fortunately, at Ostia they were divided. She, as she would later understand, was among the high-ranking slaves destined for noble Roman families.

She was cleaned and well-dressed.

In Rome, they put a sign around her neck and pushed her onto a small stage.

She was in the Esquiline, a noble area full of villas and beautiful buildings.

Despite this, she observed the faces of her potential future masters, terrified.

A tear ran down her cheek. Fighting on that ship had been useless: she would become the slave of a ruthless Roman, and who knew what he would do to her.

She thought of Jerusalem. The Ben-Hur's house, her friends, the life she had considered difficult, which now seemed like paradise.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a real gem here! A 25-year-old slave from Jerusalem. No, she's not entirely Jewish: look at her thin eyes. Her origins are from the far East. An exotic and educated virgin jewel, a girl everyone would want in their home!"

Sneers and smirks among the bystanders. The noblewomen observed her impassively.

Maider held back a sob.

"The auction starts at one thousand sesterces!"

And, for no apparent reason, she began to sing:

"You can't take my past

You can't take my history

You could take my pa, but his name's a mystery..."

At that very moment, the Aedile Ludi was passing through the market. He was a thirty-three-year-old man, not too tall, with dark hair and blue eyes. Once the king of the Suburra for his shady dealings, he had recently left the neighborhood to live in the Esquiline. That morning, he was leaving home to go to his betting tavern, which still earned him a certain income and from which, for some reason, he could not separate himself.

That man was named Tenax.

And hearing her singing, he stopped abruptly.

He then met her gaze.

Green eyes into blue eyes.

For a moment, time stood still.

Maider stopped singing, looking at him.

The auctioneer took the opportunity to grab her chin.

"What did I tell you? A constant surprise, this exotic jewel!”

Maider looked at him with disgust. Struggling.

"Get your hands off me!"

The man slapped her.

Usually, Tenax would not intervene. He was a man of gray morality, but for some reason, this time he felt he should act.

He met the girl's gaze again.

He was captivated.

He stepped forward and said:

"I offer three thousand sesterces!"

The auctioneer looked at him in silence.

Maider looked at him in silence.

The bystanders looked at him in silence.

"Oh, Aedile Ludi..." murmured the man, "All right. She's yours, if you want her”.

"Yes”.

And he signaled for the girl to come down from the stage.

Maider obeyed, eager to escape the grasp of that horrible man.

Tenax grabbed her by the arm, handed the man a bag of money, and together they walked towards home.

***

Maider looked at him with a mix of fear and fascination.

Fascinated because she found him to be a handsome man.

Afraid because she feared that behind those big blue eyes hid a violent man who would take advantage of her without pity.

After all, he hadn't even untied her.

Among the thousand doubts occupying her mind, an uncertain question escaped her lips:

"Who are you?"

He was surprised to hear her speak.

"My name is Tenax”.

"I am Maider. What does it mean that you are an… ehm, Aedile Ludi?"

Tenax gave her an even more surprised look. Was she a talker, or was it anxiety making her babble?

"That I oversee the games at the Flavian Amphitheater and the Circus Maximus”.

"Oh. So you're an engineer”.

"Are you studying me?"

Maider met his gaze. He understood her immediately. She appreciated his sharpness with a bit of fear.

"When I'm nervous, I tend to babble. Not knowing what you want to do with me makes me nervous”.

Tenax felt exposed. The girl was right: what the hell did he want to do with her? She was too clever to relegate her to washing the floors of his large villa.

Indeed, and he hated to admit it, he found her far too interesting to make her a simple slave.

"You will stay with me. I have a housekeeper who will assign you tasks. Done with the questions?"

"Actually, no. But if you command me to be silent, I will”.

Tenax sighed.

"Actually, I don't know what I prefer. Slaves are usually few of words”.

"Until a couple of weeks ago, I was a free person. I was educated in a great Jewish family. I can read, write, do arithmetic..."

"And sing”.

They met each other's gaze again. Maider blushed.

"Only for a selected few”.

Tenax wanted to laugh but did not show it. He saw her open and close her hands: her wrists were still tied.

"If I untie you, will you run away?"

"I would get lost after five minutes”.

"Probably”.

He paused for a moment and cut the ropes tying her wrists with a dagger. Maider sighed in relief, massaging the abrasions.

"Thank you, Tenax”.

He gave her a nod of acknowledgment.

Once they arrived home, Tenax knocked on the door.

"Claudia! It's me”.

After a few seconds, a middle-aged woman moved the heavy door aside.

"Tenax. I wasn't expecting you so early”.

Then her eyes fell on the girl. With an eloquent look, she asked her master who she was.

"Her name is Maider. I want you to show her the house. If you have any particularly heavy tasks, get her to help. Get to know each other”.

With that, and with a nod of his head, he left.

Claudia extended her hand.

"Come, dear”.

Maider smiled softly at her, taking it.

***

Hey! It's Eli here. Thank you for reading! Let me know in the comments if you liked this chapter and if you want to read more ❤️

Here you have Maider and Tenax ❤️

[zerogate]

What was almost more remarkable than Paul’s journeys was the breathtaking rise in infrastructure and transport that enabled him to make them: in other words, the roads, grain ships, seaways and highways of the Roman Empire. Read the accounts of Paul’s travels one way, and they are a chronicle of awesome faith; read them another, and they are a chronicle of the even more awesome efficiency of Roman transport networks.

Paul might be famous for those 10,000 miles but, as the historian Wayne Meeks has pointed out, that distance is puny in comparison to the distances that others travelled in this period: the gravestone of a merchant found in Phrygia, in modern Turkey, records that he had travelled seventy-two times to Rome – a trip that is perhaps 2,000 km in either direction.

This is not to say that travel was wholly safe: it wasn’t. People consulted interpreters of dreams about travel anxieties almost more than anything else, and not without cause: as the parable of the Good Samaritan clearly shows, being beaten up and left for dead while on the road was a well-known hazard. But, nonetheless, in this period travel was being revolutionized. Within the empire, Meeks writes, people ‘travelled more extensively and more easily than had anyone before them – or would again until the nineteenth century.’

[...]

Whether or not most Romans paused to think much about it, the scale of the trade that travelled through their empire by land and by sea was staggering. Archaeologists, who have used the number of shipwrecks found at the bottom of the Mediterranean as a guide to the number of ships that once sailed on its surface, suggest it was not until the nineteenth century that Mediterranean trade regained its Roman levels.

Greco-Roman traders gained such detailed knowledge of other lands that they could write authoritative guidebooks on the quality of the water in Indian ports and what sold well there (Italian wine was, apparently, considered a particularly exotic delicacy). International trade with the subcontinent grew so much that Roman writers fretted about the trade deficit that existed between it and Rome. ‘At the very lowest computation, India, the Seres, and the Arabian Peninsula, withdraw from our empire one hundred millions of sesterces every year,’ wrote Pliny, adding, primly, ‘so dearly do we pay for our luxury and our women.’

The number of coins in circulation increased in this period, as did the production of metal. Analysis of the ice caps of Greenland show that air pollution, caused by the smelting of such metals as lead, copper and silver, would not reach Roman levels again until the sixteenth or seventeenth century.

Another measure of the high levels of trade in this era is the amount of ancient packing material that remains – in other words, of Roman pots. Amphorae, which in Roman times were used to transport more or less everything, were produced on a colossal scale. To understand quite how colossal, travel to Rome, walk southwards down the Tiber from the Colosseum, and you will see a mound, patchily covered in grass. This fifty-metre-high hillock – which is known as Monte Testaccio – is made entirely from broken oil amphorae. Inside the mound lie the fragments of an estimated fifty-three million amphorae, in which an estimated six billion litres of oil were imported into Rome.

Not only did people travel far; they also travelled fast. The speed of Roman travel, particularly for the wealthiest, was astonishing. Early in its imperial history, Rome’s emperors had set up the Roman imperial post – probably in imitation of similar systems that had been read about – and envied – in ancient accounts about Persia. This was not a post system as modern minds might imagine it, to be used by everyone, but was for imperial messengers, and its infrastructure duly demonstrated imperial ambition and grandeur: every twenty-four miles or so was a rest station; at each station, forty of the finest, swiftest horses were stabled, along with a proportionate number of grooms. A courier could therefore arrive, switch horses and set off again, and travelling in this way might cover ‘a ten days’ journey in a single day’ – in other words, it is now thought, 160 miles.

As the historian Procopius explained, emperors had set such a system up so that if there was a war, mutiny or any other disaster anywhere in the empire, the news could reach Rome fast – and it seems to have worked. The evidence for this is unusually good, because, while such disasters may have been unpleasant for the emperor experiencing them, they have been splendidly useful to later historians, since imperial deaths and assassinations tend to appear in histories with careful time stamps. They can thus be used to calculate how fast ancient travel could, in extremis, be. And the answer is: very fast indeed. After the death of Nero, for example, a messenger travelled from Rome to Northern Spain (a distance overland of around 1,800 km) in a breathless seven days. Probably that messenger did the bulk of the journey over the sea. Nonetheless, it is very, very fast.

It wasn’t just people who were on the move, either. Head to a fancy Roman dinner party and the supper on your plate could easily be as international as the guests reclining at your side, for, as one satirist put it, the ‘bottomless gullet’ and ‘tireless gluttony’ of Rome was perpetually on ‘eager quest of dainties from all quarters’. A single gourmand might, for their dinner party, source ‘a peacock from Samos, a woodcock from Phrygia, cranes of Media, a kid from Ambracia, a young tunny from Chalcedon, a lamprey from Tartessus, codfish from Pessinus, oysters from Tarentum, cockles from Sicily, a swordfish from Rhodes, pike from Cilicia, nuts from Thasos, dates from Egypt, acorns from Spain...’

-- Catherine Nixey, Heresy

[whencyclopedia]

The Journeys of Paul the Apostle

The journeys of Paul the Apostle, as the New Testament relates in the Book of Acts, started with his conversion experience on the way to Damascus, after which instead of seeking to thwart the growing Christian movement, he helped spread it. His four journeys by land and sea across great lengths of the Mediterranean and over vast expanses of land in Asia and Europe totaled over an estimated 16,000 km (10,000 mi).

The Journeys of Paul the Apostle, c. 55 CE

Simeon Netchev (CC BY-NC-ND)

Paul's First Missionary Journey

After persecution in Jerusalem, Antioch was one of the places to which Christians fled, and it was from there Paul began his first missionary journey. Annexed by Pompey the Great in 64 CE and made the Roman provincial capital of Syria, with an estimated population of 250,000, Antioch was one of the primary cities of the East, along with Alexandria and Constantinople. Located at the northeast end of the Mediterranean on the Persian Royal Road, Antioch benefited from its location at the end of the Silk Road and its proximity to Greece, Anatolia, and Italy. As Hughs and Jones mention, not only was "its wealth derived from being a center of civil, military, and later ecclesiastical administration of much of the Near East but also from its position on the commercial road from Asia to the Mediterranean" (103).

Besides its own wine and olive oil production and as a center for the fulling of cloth products, silk from China, lapis lazuli from Afghanistan, dye-works from the Levant, and weaved silk from Damascus could all have found their way through Antioch for distribution throughout the northern Mediterranean areas. As it lay on the Orontes River and at the edge of a fertile plain, Antioch communicated commercially with the harbor of Seleucia 26 km (16 mi) downstream on the Mediterranean. As common travelers in ancient times hitched their rides on merchant vessels, the water portion of Paul's trip was aboard a cargo ship performing trade transactions. Thus, it was at Seleucia that Paul boarded a cargo ship to the province of Asia, stopping at the island of Cyprus.

Cyprus, with a prominent location at the eastern end of the Mediterranean, was also known for its wine and olive oil production. A scenario for trade would have been a combination of Eastern goods loaded alongside refined and agricultural products accumulated at Antioch. Then, with a stop at Cyprus for partial distribution, Cyprus' products would have been added for final distribution in Asia.

With fellow evangelist Barnabas and Barnabas' nephew, John Mark, Paul first landed at Salamis on the eastern end of Cyprus after leaving the port city of Seleucia and sailing west toward Asia. Like with many of his subsequent stops, Paul first visited the local synagogue, attempting a conversion of the Jews to Christianity. From Salamis, heading west, walking nearly the length of Cyprus, Paul and Barnabas came to Paphos, their point of departure for Asia. At Paphos, the proconsul Sergius Paulus would become a convert.

Paul the Apostle's First Missionary Journey (c. 46-48 CE)

Simeon Netchev (CC BY-NC-ND)

Heading to Asia from Cyprus, Paul's ship stopped at Perga in Pamphylia, in southwestern Turkey today. From Perga, John Mark departed for Jerusalem as Paul and Barnabas pressed on into Asia. At their first stop in Antioch of Pisidia, at the synagogue, Paul preached the history of Israel as he weaved in the story of John the Baptist and Jesus of Nazareth, said to be a descendant of David, as the resurrected Savior, son of God. Though Paul and Barnabas initially gained Jewish and Gentile converts, a faction of opposing Jews expelled them from the city.

At Iconium, with similarly mixed results on learning of a plot to kill them, Paul went on to Lystra. As many in Lystra were worshipers of gods and their idols, Paul preached they should turn from worshiping "things" to worshiping the "living God" (Acts 14:15). When some hostile Jews came from Antioch and Iconium and won the crowd over, both groups stoned Paul. Thinking he was dead, they dragged Paul to the outskirts of the city. When some brethren came to retrieve the body, remarkably Paul had recovered and went back into town. The next day, Paul traveled east for Derbe. With his mission ending on a more positive note, large numbers rallied at Derbe to Paul's message. Deciding to head home, retracing their steps through Lystra, Iconium, and Antioch, after appointing elders in each church, the apostles went on to Perga; then, after preaching there a bit, they boarded a ship for a short junket west to the port city of Attallia, then from there they sailed back to Seleucia, then traveled up along the Orontes to Antioch.

Continue reading...

[1dcommunityficrecs]

New Category: Historical AUs!

This list will be going live on March 15th, aka the Ides of March (do not get me started on my rant about how terrible Roman calendars are -- some if it is Julius Caesar's fault, but not the things people usually blame him for), so I thought it would be fun to take a step back in time and look at some historical stories!

Are the characters knights in shining armour, or peasants in a medieval village? Are they soldiers in the Great War, or waiting at home for someone they love to return? Are they pirates roaming the seven seas, or sailors on a merchant ship? Are they Roman generals or Greek philosophers or French artists? Are they '60s hippies on a cross-country road trip, or sweethearts in the Great Depression building a life together despite the challenges? Submit them all here!

I'm not putting a specific year limit on what qualifies as "history" -- I expect most submissions will likely be pre-2000s, but if a fic set in say 2002 really engages with that setting and the events and technology of the time, I could definitely see an argument for calling it a historical fic. Fics also do not have to be set in a specific time or place, or even in our real-life world; general "medieval vibes" in a made-up country still counts. I am separating out time travel as a separate theme (coming soon!), so only characters who are born and raised in that historical time please!

Can't wait to see everyone's faves!

[ltwilliammowett]

A detail from the roman Kelenderis mosaic, showing a merchant ship in the harbor, ca. 5th century AD

[justinewt]

Infortunatus Eventus Seriem - THOSE ABOUT TO DIE REWRITE Chapter One

[THOSE ABOUT TO DIE MASTERLIST]

Next Chapter

Summary: Aldea had everything she wanted and needed in her homeland of Baetica, in the south of Hispania. She never fantasized about other places, until she met this young roman sailor who got her dreaming of Rome. She never thought she would ever be leaving her family, and certainly not in the way that she did and in the series of unfortunate events that ensued, she was lucky enough to found the one person in Rome who she wouldn't suffer at the hand of.

Words: 4k

Warnings: title inspired by "a series of unfortunate events" which is the title's translation lol // Those about to die (no spoilers yet), 1st person (somewhat unreliable narrator - doesn't mean that she lies about the events, just that it's her recollection/perception of them), slavery, broken bones, mention of abduction and captivity, mention of sexual assault

The year, 75 CE. The place, Rome.

I started dreaming of seeing this city for myself about a year ago, but I didn’t think the fates would play such a cruel trick on me. I had everything. A modest but rich life, richer than the lives of most high-borns. My mother died giving birth to my younger brother, but my father was good, and we lived with our grandfather too, and I had three brothers who were – are – my best friends. Andria, the oldest, was the spitting image of our father both in appearance and spirit, and my brother, Fonsoa, just a couple years older, was kind-hearted. And the youngest, born 4 years after me. My sweet baby brother, Elia, whom I nurtured as a mother and cared for with Fonsoa. I believe he looked up to me, like his big sister but like a mother too, all while it fell to Fonsoa and I to raise him as our older brother was always off with the horses. We lived in the rocky hills of Baetica, in the south of Hispania. We had horses – Andalusians. I loved those beasts. I loved to ride bareback, clinging to their manes, muscles contracted, and thighs pressed against their sides, my own mane flying behind me, waving in the wind like the tall grass in which I loved to lie die and watch the sky, often lying down at the top of a hill and letting my body roll to the bottom with Elia. I would always hit a couple of stones on the way and get bruises all over my arms and legs, but I couldn’t have cared less about it. I loved the freedom of such a life, but I had no idea this was freedom. It was just my life. I had never known anything else. And I wish it had stayed that way. We often rode our horses to Portus Magnus, the Great Harbor. To sell meat or things that we grew. Over time, I began to wander by the port, looking at the boats moored at the docks, and I noticed this great ship, bigger than all the others. I asked around, curious to know whose ship this was, as I looked over my shoulder at the Roman soldiers walking by, stumping the grounds all at the same time.

“Es el barco de un romano – un rico comerciante de Roma.” The old fishmonger had told me. The boat, that of a rich roman merchant, from the great city of Rome. I didn’t know why, but I began to think about it. About this roman ship, and this city. I had never lacked anything, never dreamed of elsewhere, and yet, I thought about Rome. I began to dream of it, wanting to see it for myself, with my own eyes. I remember that day, this young sailor, his blond hair shining in the sun and the creases around his eyes as he smiled at me. He told me his name – Aelius – and greeted me in Spanish, uncertain and shy, but our conversations were mostly silence. I understood latin but had a long way to go before being able to speak it fluently. Eventually, I got there. I was always a quick learner, smart. Now I can speak it, but not then. He took a liking in me, and I did too. I returned to Portus Magnus a couple other times this same week and went to see him everytime. He had told me they were leaving by the end of the week, but that the man he worked with often had business in Hispania, so they would return. 19-year-old me promised herself that she would be able to speak better Latin and by the time I saw him again, and I did, a year later, 75 CE, when I would finally see this city, I dreamed of and I won’t ever be sure why, but I kept these meetings a secret and hid them from my brothers. I could have told them – I should have told them. They could have found me sooner and brought me home. But that didn’t happen. I was a fool.

“Aldea!” He called out my name as I was jogging back to my horse to go find my brothers before they came to find me. I turned around and he held me in his arms, whispering in my ear; “come back tonight”. And I nodded. I left and went about my day and when the night came, my father went to sleep, my brothers went to sleep and, even though the four of us shared a room, I somehow managed to sneak out. I was so excited, looking forward to this forbidden meeting, my heart beating so fast and I enjoyed the sweetness with which the wind caressed my skin and played with my hair, riding under the moonlight. I arrived in town and found him by the docks, as usual. I had never seen Portus Magnus by night. It was so quiet – peaceful. His fellow sailors were sleeping too. It was just the two of us as we lied on the ship’s deck and looked at the night sky. I loved the stars. Not more than horses, but I loved them. They fascinated me and I wished I could touch them, stretching out my arm high in the hair. As a child, I often asked Andria, or my father, to carry me on their shoulder so I could try and touch them. I wanted to hold one in my hand – these little shining balls. And we kissed. I had never kissed a boy before. He wasn’t the first I liked, but he was the first I kissed. The first boy I really liked lived in the village down the valley, where I often went with my brothers. I was 16 when I met him, and we did grow fond of each other rather quickly. At the time, people began to tell my father he should marry me off to a man, but he wouldn’t. I remember then, he had asked me if I loved this boy. I thought I did – and I most likely did – and he was actually considering marrying us but then, one day, he fell off his horse after it got spooked by a snake in the high grass and he lost control. He got trampled and died, less than an hour later. I was shattered but I didn’t want to cry in front of my father and my brothers, so I didn’t. This all happened two years prior to my first meeting with this sailor, and I felt this was different. He wouldn’t die like this. Maybe we could get married. Maybe my father would say yes, and I could go to Rome with him. We kissed, and this perfect scenario went through my head, and it seemed so possible, so real, as if it was already happening. My first kiss, but the first time I ever laid down with a man. Then we heard noise, and we hid and fell asleep in the shadows of piled up crates and sacks.

“Oy!” We were woken up abruptly, sitting up with a gasp as a sailor threw a bucket of water over our heads. We were pulled away from each other. That was when I realized we were already far from the coast. Aelius was flogged for his misbehavior – bringing a woman on the boat. And I was dragged towards the edge and thrown to the other side, clinging to a rope, feet dangling in the air. I ended up in this position after asking if they couldn’t just send me back to Portus Magnus, that I wouldn’t cause them more trouble.

“You can swim home if you want to, girl.” The merchant said, looking down on me. But I didn’t know how to swim. I had never swum a day in my life, and I looked beneath me with terror in my eyes and felt my hands slip down the rope, the palms of my hands growing warmer and sweaty, and begged. I didn’t cry, but I begged them to let me stay on the boat, that I would do anything to make me useful until they reached Rome. “And what will you even do in Rome?”

“I can work.”

“I have no use for a girl like you—” he cut himself off mid-sentence, thinking. They pulled me up and dragged me to his cabin, keeping me from going to check on Aelius who lied on the deck, still, but not dead. He was groaning in pain. I could hear him, until the merchant closed the doors. “You’ll stay here until we reach Rome, then I’ll see what I’ll do with you.”

“Thank you—” He left me alone. The trip lasted 9 days – I counted. Everyday, I spent my time curled up in a corner of his cabin, I watched the waves, the ocean stretching as far as the eye could see. That was all I could do. I wish I didn’t remember what happened on that boat. When the first night came, I saw what my life would be until we reached Rome. He tried to force himself on me, which he successfully did – after shoving me in a piece of furniture when I scratched his face, and then grabbed a gold candle holder and swang it around as I dodged his blows, until he finally managed to strike me – a violent blow to the shoulder – and I fell, letting out a sharp scream. I felt my collarbone break. My heart was speeding. I couldn’t catch my breath. The pain was so intense I thought my heart was going to explode. Tears poured down as he grabbed my face, firmly, and threatened to break my entire arm, and the other one as well, if I kept being “ungrateful” after he allowed me to stay on his boat, using my own naïve words against me. I shouldn’t have said I would do anything. I believe the sharks would have been less cruel. That night, he left me to cry and whimper, quietly, in a corner while he slept, but the other nights, he did whatever he wanted with me, and I couldn’t possibly fight back.

The pain was unbearable and yet I endured. I genuinely thought all hope was lost at this point. I was hurting, isolated. I cried. I desperetaly wanted to return to my father, my brothers, my horses, my sweet life. Going to Rome didn’t sound like such a dream anymore. When I looked out the porthole, I watched the waves, but I watched the birds flying around the ship too. I was like a bird, with its wing broken, and kept in a cage. Eventually, we reached the harbour of Ostia, Rome’s port. I was put in chains and sent to be sold as a slave at the market. This was not what I had dreamed of. But after 9 days and 8 nights of hell, I was there, with a chain going around the back of my neck from which a wooden plaque hung over my chest. I was forced to stand straight but my shoulder was drooping to the side. My arm felt so stiff and I could hear a sort of grinding or crackling sound when I did move my shoulder. It made me sick. On the plaque could be read my country of origin, and my name along with roman numerals which I didn’t know the role of.

“HISPANIA

ALDEA

XX”

The big man that was taking care of the sells – “offerings” he called us – yelled the names, making diminishing and belittling comments on the dozen slaves lined up on the stage. I listened with one ear, too busy trying to keep my composure and not let my pain show. I felt my eyebrows furrow as I stared at the crowd. A couple thousand serteces here, a few hundred there. I had never seen slaves being sold and never in my wildest dreams would have I thought I would be one of them. Then it came to me.

“Look at this one.” the man pulled me closer to him, luckily, he grabbed my good arm at first but then I tried to slip away, and he smacked his hand on my broken shoulder and squeezed. The broken bone moved, and my eyes got teary. I couldn’t help but hold my breath. I let out a low groan through my gritted teeth, closing my eyes for a second, my head slightly falling forward. I sighed through my nose, like a horse. “Andalusian beauty straight from Baetica. Well formed. As sturdy as their horses, she knows all about them, and can cook you all kinds of wonderful meals.”

The vendor moved his hand off my shoulder and lifted my head, showing off my features to the crowd. I sighed heavily; the pain lingered but without the pressure of his hand on my injury. That’s when I reopened my eyes and crossed his gaze. While everyone was mumbling to each other, shaking their heads as they looked me up and down, mentioning my shoulder, showing disapproval and disinterest but he was looking at me with curiosity, slightly squinting his eyes. I couldn’t help but stare at him in surprise when he offered a few hundred serteces to buy me. I was led off stage and they removed the plaque from my neck and pushed me towards the man they had called Tenax. I approached him as he bent over to talk to a small child next to him. The boy ran off. Tenax turned back towards me and stretched out his arm, but he didn’t grab my arm, he just put a hand in my back to lead me to move forward and glanced at me as I wouldn’t stop staring. He brought me to a building, we entered through the front door, climbed a couple flight of stairs and walked in an apartment – his apartment, obviously. I stood there, my eyes scanning the room, but I quickly started staring at him again. He was his back to me, moving a bunch of things on a piece of furniture by the door.

“Do all Spaniard women stare in silence, or is it just you?” He leaned on the cupboard and locked eyes with me, eyebrows slightly raised. I parted my lips and looked down, but still held my head high. I’m not sure he heard me when I mumbled an apology under my breath, but he spoke again anyway. “I called for a physician, to take a look at your shoulder.”

“Thank you.”

“She speaks.” His tone was light. I wondered why he would have someone look at my injury, but he answered my question on his own, and if I had thought about it for longer than a second, I would have figured it out as it was fairly obvious and reminded me of my status once more. “I own a betting tavern in town. I’ll let you work there, but you won’t be of any use to me if I leave your injury untreated.”

“Sí – uh, yes.” I caught myself as I first answered in my native language and I caught him smiling, and I caught myself smiling too. I thought, maybe, he wasn’t as bad as the merchant. I thought I didn’t trust him, that I was just not too wary, not scared but I actually began to trust him when he said he called a physician for me. I always thought my brother, Andria, was wrong when he said I trusted too easily but he was right, and this quality of mine was a double-edged sword, sometimes cutting me deep, like with the merchant.

“How did it happen?”

“I fell.” I could tell he didn’t believe me, looking me up and down, doubtfully, but someone knocked on the door before he could voice his suspicion. Tenax straightened up and went to open. The physician, an old man with a short beard, came in, opening a box on the table as he exchanged a few words with Tenax. In his box, I saw a bunch of herbs and ointments among other things. He turned to me and when he raised his hand to take my arm, I flinched and noticed Tenax watching me like a hawk. His gaze wasn’t harsh though. I saw in his eyes the same curiosity as he had back at the auction. He gave me a nod and I lowered my sleeve, letting the physician look at my shoulder. My collarbone was red, and swollen, and looked about as bad as it felt. He asked if I could move my arm at all, and I said no. He slowly pushed my arm upwards and brought his ear closer, and no matter how much I contained myself, I couldn't hold back from crying out. I felt as though my bone was grinding.

“It’s the shoulder. The collarbone is broken – here.” He circled the swollen area and showed a lump sticking out and I sighed through my nose, letting out a chimper, digging my nails into my palm. He then advised my arm be put in a sling for the next few months and he gave me a sip of tincture of poppies, telling Tenax not to give me more than three times a day. As it wasn’t the arm itself that was injured, he couldn’t do much. He and his assistant then left them alone and an old woman, whom Tenax referred to as Claudia, helped set up my arm into a sling.

“I’m going to ask again. How did it happen? It’s all right. You can tell me, Aldea.”

“The merchant who brought me to Rome. He—” I took a shaky breath. I wasn’t going to tell him all that happened. I didn’t want to, but mostly, I couldn’t. The words wouldn’t leave my lips. “I struggled... I barely scratched his face and he – he struck me with a candlestick.”

“I see.” He looked away for a second. Maybe he was touched by my story, maybe not. I couldn’t really tell. He then showed me the door from which Claudia came out, telling me that I would sleep in that room. He had her cook me some food and I watched him leave as he returned to work to his betting tavern, adding that I should rest and that he would show me around tomorrow. I ate a good stew, warm in my belly. And then I lied down on my bed, doing as he said and had some rest. I woke up a few hours later, breathing frantically after having a nightmare where I was back on the ship, and I was quickly brought back to reality when I rolled on my wrong side and sat up with a whimper. I tried to catch my breath as I got up from the bed and Claudia came in, having heard me making noise. She gave me some more tincture of poppies.

“Where’s Tenax?”

“He’s already at the tavern. I will bring you to him. Come on.” I thought I had only slept for a few hours and woken up during the afternoon, but it seemed it was already the next day. Little did I realize I had been this sleep deprived during my stay on the merchant’s ship. I was in such pain; I didn’t even realize I was this tired. She walked me through the streets, and we reached the betting tavern a few minutes later. There were so many people in the same place, so much noise. People arguing, talking, laughing and thinking about their bets for the next race. Large curtains, left half open, divided the tavern’s space. On one side, there were tables and on the other, there was a desk with the space Claudia went home, pushing me forward. I walked through the curtains, glancing over my shoulder and stepping aside as a man walked past me. There were slated up on the wall with names written and beads haning on threads stretched from one side to the other of rectangle wooden frames. Tenax was nearby, talking to a man in a blue tunic. He had seen me but wasn’t done with his conversation, so I wandered around the betting desk and took a closer look at the frames, sliding my finger on a bead to make it roll around the thread. I had no idea what it was. I felt someone come up behind me and saw Tenax appear in my field of vision.

“That’s an abacus – a counting board.”

“How does it work?” He walked behind the counter and proceeded to explain to me the ins and outs of the abacus. I watched him carefully as he accompanied his comments with gestures, to illustrate his words and I nodded when I understood and began to speak up, making his explanation interactive.

“Good. You’re a quick learner.”

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen one, Spaniard princess.” The man in the blue tunic chimed in, his arms crossed over his chest. He had a thick accent, rolling his r’s. not Spaniard, I thought. The nickname he had given me made me chuckle. Either Tenax told him I wasn’t roman, or he could tell from my olive skin and accent. I heard how differently I spoke from the Romans around me. If they weren’t sure I was a Spaniard from looking at me, my pronunciation would betray me. The name Scorpus left Tenax’s lips as he introduced him to her. He was a charioteer whose fame was ever-growing. “The most famous one” he corrected Tenax. He looked and sounded proud, holding his head high with a cocky smile. I found him funny, and I liked his accent.

“No, I’d never seen one. I didn’t need this to take care of horses.”

“You took care of horses back home?”

“Yes, with my brothers. I always loved horses.” I followed Scorpus’ gaze as he turned his head to Tenax. The latter waved his hand, motioning for us to go before leaning on the counter.

“Go.”

“After you…” He held out his hand in front of him, inviting me to move forward. We left the betting tavern and walked to the stables. There was a dozen of them, most of them closed, people coming in and out of them, glancing at us. As we approached an open stable, he took off his hood – I didn’t even realize that he had put a hood over his head in the first place. There I met a man, Gavros, one of the stable hands. He was nice from the start. Scorpus eventually left and I spoke horses with Gavros. He was a former charioteer himself.

“I prefer riding bareback.” I spoke. “Helps to create a stronger bond between the horse and its rider.”

“You rode bareback? That requires a lot of strength.” He declared, looking me up and down.

“I guess.” I had gotten so used to it; I had no idea if it made me strong. I wasn’t sure I was strong at all.

“Is that how you hurt your arm? You fell?”

“I, uh, I did – fall, but not because I rode bareback. Do you think I could work as a stablehand too?”

“I wouldn’t be against it. You sure know your way around horses.”

“I’ll ask Tenax later. He—” I was cut off midsentence, before telling Gavros that I was Tenax’s slave and turned around when I heard his voice behind me. He was standing by the stable’s doors.

“Ask me in a few months, when your arm isn’t in a sling anymore. Then we’ll see.” He had a faint smile on his face. I went back to the betting tavern with him, and he showed me around, telling me I’d work there, helping with whatever I was able to do. I met a bunch of small kids too, a little over a dozen of them. I noticed straight away that they looked up to Tenax, though he justified it by the fact that they were exactly just that, young children, and they would look up t anyone who gave them food and coin. But seeing all this, and the good opinion I already had of him, only further strengthened my initial thought – I could trust him. Maybe he wouldn’t keep me as a slave for very long. I wouldn't actually mind working for him anyway, even if i wasn't forced to.

[To be continued…]  

Next Chapter

Published (07/28/2024) by Andrea

[blueiscoool]

Diver Finds 2,500-Year-Old Disc Used by Ancient Mariners to Ward Off ‘The Evil Eye’

Artifact discovered at Palmachim Beach is a type of talisman sailors affixed to ships for good fortune, Israel Antiquities Authority says.

A rare, 2,500-year-old marble disc used by ancient mariners as a talisman has been discovered off Israel’s coast.

A lifeguard diving off Palmachim Beach discovered the artifact at the Yavne-Yam archaeological site and turned it over to researchers, the Israel Antiquities Authority said last month.

Researchers identified the object as an ancient “eye motif,” known in Greek as “ophtalmoi,” that ancient sailors affixed to their vessels in the belief it would ward off evil, the authority said in a statement.

Archaeologists are familiar with the objects from drawings on pottery, mosaics and ancient coins, and from other historical sources, said Yaakov Shitrit, the director of the authority’s Marine Archaeology Unit.

“This design was common on ships’ bows and served to protect against the evil eye and envy, aided navigation, and acted as a pair of eyes looking ahead and warning of danger,” Shitrit said in a statement. “This decoration is still common today on modern ships in Portugal, Malta, Greece, and the far east.”

The disc is flat on one side and curved on the other, has a diameter of 20 centimeters (7.8 inches), and bears traces of paint forming two circles around its center.

Sailors used lead or bronze nails to attach the discs to warships or merchant vessels, researchers said.

Only three other similar artifacts have been found in the Mediterranean Sea, even though the objects were once common. One was found off Israel’s Carmel Beach, and two were found in the wreck of an ancient merchant ship at the Tektaş Burnu archaeological site on Turkey’s coast.

The Yavne-Yam site, where the disc was found last month, was first settled during the Middle Bronze Age. Marine surveys have found shipwrecks that indicate there was intensive commercial activity in the area in ancient times, with archaeologists uncovering maritime artifacts such as anchors, weights and fishing gear.

Researchers have also found items that were used on ships including a lead cooking oven, grinding stones, stone bowls, storage jars and cooking pots.

The artifacts date a stretch of history covering the Late Bronze Age, and the Persian, Hellenistic, Roman and Byzantine periods, the Israel Antiquities Authority said.

[doberbutts]

HOWEVER I scrolled by an article the other day that was basically “adding POC to fantasy stories that don’t have POC is more racist than those fantasy stories not having POC whatsoever” and I have been chewing on this for a while because it Bothered Me.

The argument was that, by changing nothing about the story except the skin color of various characters, you make something more racist by forcing POC into “white cultures”. The examples used for this were, of course, Rings of Power and Netflix Witcher.

Except... There are black people in Europe. There are Asian people in Europe. There are African people in Europe. There are Arabic people in Europe. There are even Native American people and South American people and Caribbean people in Europe.

And... as said before Witcher is not happening in our world but in a different world which humans were unwillingly transported to during the Conjunction of the Spheres, and multiple races and cultures were transported considering there are actually POC that exist within the Witcher books, which have trade and slaves and war that stretches across multiple countries and continents. Tolkien’s universe also has POC that exist within the books- albeit they are almost entirely Bad Guys Only- and it has other evidence of non-European items existing within it such as tomatoes, tobacco, potatoes, tea, and various spices meaning trade would have to exist because these plants do not originate in Europe.

Before anyone gets on me about tea- Bilbo mentions tea in PJ’s Fellowship of the Ring and the dwarves, in Bilbo’s house, offers Gandalf a cup of chamomile in PJ’s An Unexpected Journey- with first recorded use in Egypt [yes I know chamomile also grows in Europe, however it was not used as tea that we’re aware of until after Egypt taught the Romans how to do it]. If we want to say that it could be really any type of tea, the first recorded use of tea in general was in China. Either way, that’s a non-European invention.

The argument is, in itself, a racist one. People of color exist in Europe and have existed in Europe for almost as long as Europe has been around. War and trade and slavery will do that. The Vikings did it. The Moors did it. The Romans did it. The Mongolians did it. And others throughout history have done it. Whether they succeeded in holding ground longterm or had to turn back quickly, whether it was a nobleman on some world tour to stroke his ego or a merchant travelling on the silk road or a ship blown off course seeking exotic spices and products, people have always shown up in unexpected places. There was a black samurai in Japan in the 1500s. There were Native Americans being imported en masse to England in the late 1400s to show off as trophy wives and zoo exhibits. We have always existed in these places. Us being people of color doesn’t mean we don’t belong there or that somehow it’s not “actually” the culture of those who live and were born and raised in these countries.

And, in complete honesty- while I would, obviously, like to see more POC-originating stories being adapted into multi-million dollar franchise... the fact of the matter is that the few times it does happen no one goes to see it except for the race that it pertains to, no one talks about it, no one advertises it, no one supports it. POC authors and directors and producers and writers fight tooth and nail to show their work and then are told by the industry that their stuff is garbage that no one wants to see because people are too busy touching themselves to Famous White Guy’s Books.

[rarepears]

If we're talking corn and coffee, then chilis and potatoes might be on the table as well. Who says that a rich enough silk merchant couldn't eventually build his own fleet of trade ships and explore the overseas options? Especially if they've got their own wares that more people than just the Romans and Europeans would want.

Shen Jiu would be ambitious enough to do that, methinks. Shen Jiu could get into luxury fur trades as well, which would be a big hit with the colder climates. Maybe Shang Qinghua is still the An Ding peak lord in this timeline and starts sweating a little when he sees fantasy beaver and otter pelts being circulated among the trade contracts because he knows those things existing means someone has reached the other side of the sea.

He banished those first draft demons which were too fucked and OP even for his stallion novel to a different continent in the hopes of one day serving as high level enemies for Bingge if he needed more padding but forgot about them. But oh does he remember now, now that Shen Jiu has inadvertently opened up a route between the continents in his search for economic domination.

[More in #Shen Jiu becomes a silk merchant instead of a Qing Jing disciple AU]

[kaydeefalls]

WIP Wednesday

Feeling increasingly antsy about the fact that we are four full months into 2023 and I have posted zero fics so far this year, but I am actively writing again these days, I swear! Currently close to 18k words into a Joe/Nicky canon-divergence AU set during the last Punic War (i.e. the Fall of Carthage). I'm probably only around the halfway mark and my gremlin brain craves validation, so have a snippet:

"My apologies; I did not catch your name earlier. Mine is Nicolò—or Nicolaus Genuates, as the Romans would have it."

"Well, I am obviously not Roman, and I would have you as you are, Nicolò," Yusuf replied with a wink. He filed the name away for later consideration; not entirely Roman himself, then, this Nicolò. "My name is Yusuf."

Nicolò leaned in a little closer, smiling with his eyes. "So what land do you call home, then, Yusuf? And what brings you to our city?"

"Carthage, and the great misfortune of my family connections, I'm afraid," Yusuf said dryly. "I'm a merchant by trade, but my sister's husband sits on our judicial tribunal, and wanted to ensure our family's interests were represented in the negotiations with your Senate."

"Ah, the One Hundred and Four, as they are called?" Nicolò's gaze sharpened. "You are part of the Carthaginian envoy."

Yusuf lifted an eyebrow. "Indeed. You are better versed in foreign affairs than most actors I have met."

"Then you haven't met the right actors," Nicolò countered. "But I'm not one myself, though I count them among my friends. I'm a scribe—I work at the aerarium archives."

It caught Yusuf by surprise. "I admit, I would not have guessed that. That you are an educated man, yes, I presumed as much from your speech, but it's hard to envision you spending your days transcribing laws or balancing accounts."

Nicolò gave him a charmingly crooked little grin. "Perhaps you lack imagination, then."

"I have never been accused of that before."

"No? How did you picture me, then? As an actor like my friend Aurelius over there?"

"You would cut a fine figure on a stage," Yusuf allowed, letting his gaze travel down along the curve of Nicolò's neck to his broad shoulders, the lean muscles of his arms. "But if not that, then perhaps…a craftsman, or engineer of some sort. Someone who works with his hands." One of Nicolò's large hands rested atop the table between them. Yusuf traced along the outline of it. "You have very capable-looking hands."

"Capable of holding a pen, yes. Among other things." Nicolò turned his hand palm up, letting his fingers tangle with Yusuf's. "Your hand is not as soft as I would have imagined, for a wealthy Punic merchant."

"Carthaginian," Yusuf corrected. "'Punic' is a Roman word, not one we use to describe ourselves. And do your merchants not travel by ship, and handle the ropes alongside their sailors as needed? Or the sword, when called upon to defend their cargo? All these tasks build their own callouses."

"As they should." Nicolò stroked his thumb across the lines of Yusuf's palm, and somehow that simple touch sent a crackle of heat along the full length of Yusuf's body. He sucked in a breath, and Nicolò lifted his heavy-lidded gaze back up to meet Yusuf's. His lopsided smile now had clear intent behind it. "So what brings a Carthaginian merchant-ambassador here, tonight, instead of toasting his compatriots after a long day's negotiations?"

Yusuf ducked his head in closer, brushing the words against the shell of Nicolò's ear. "I tired of their company, and sought better. Have I found it?"