Fatal Obligation

by J. Clifton Slater

  ***

  Alerio peaked out from under the blanket and spotted the pirates’ leaders. When Peri said ‘ground your weapons’, the Legionary threw off the cover, jumped to his feet, and leaped onto the fore rail.

  The two Illyrian Lieutenants flanking Balaites caught the motion of a man in a gleaming Hoplite helmet. Draped in a red cloak and wearing only a loincloth, the warrior posed with one foot on the rail and the other on the foremast. For a heartbeat, the warrior held his spear aloft. Briefly, the tip reflected the rays of the morning sun. Then, his arm blurred and the spear shot forward.

  Balaites grunted when the steel tip of the Hoplite’s spear penetrated his armor, split his sternum, and cleaved his heart in half. He stumbled back and fell to the sand. The spear shaft jutted straight into the air held in place by the dead Illyrian Captain.

  Too late for Balaites, his Lieutenants cried out a warning and ran to their leader.

  The warrior flung back the cloak and jumped off the transport. He landed in an explosion of seawater and began to sing.

  With Zeus’ fury from above

  He drew two swords from off his back and ran at the two men bent over Balaites.

  Poseidon’s ire below, we stride the planks

  From peering at their unbreathing leader, the Illyrian Lieutenants turned and attempted to bring their spears to bear on the helmeted man.

  Feet on the deck, pushing the oars low

  One sword chopped down on a forearm and the other hacked into the shoulder of the second Lieutenant. Both of them collapsed to the sand clutching deep wounds.

  With all our strength, we move our vessel

  Alerio sang as he slammed the swords into the sheathes and snatched the Hoplite spear from Balaites’ chest. Belting out the words, he sang and spun to face one side of the Illyrian line.

  Against the odds, through the gale

  And row between the pulse of Gods

  Seeing their Captain and Lieutenants fall, three pirates sprung at Alerio. He twirled the shaft causing the closest two to duck. But the steel tip stopped in midair, changed direction, and slashed down the slowest man’s face. The Legionary shuffled back and reset his feet.

  Titans of the sky in revolt

  Waves rise to pound, our hearts determined

  The two pirates ignored their fallen colleague and brought their spears to guard positions. But they held back waiting for reinforcements. Those unengaged pirates churned sand as they raced from the far side of Balaites’ body. With Illyrians to his front and three more closing in from behind, Alerio bounced while spinning the shaft.

  On a tossing deck, dipping the blades down

  With muscle and sweat, we move the vessel

  With all of the pirates focused on Alerio, Peri and the cousins joined the fray.

  Against the odds, through the gale

  The butt end slammed into one’s pirate’s head. Before the limp body hit the sand, Alerio reversed the spear, deflected an Illyrian weapon, and lunged forward.

  And row between the pulse of Gods

  Alerio sang as he jerked the spear out of the pirate’s chest. Then he stopped, rested the spear on the ground, and pulled off the helmet.

  “Do you want the Illyrian transport, Captain Crypto?” the Legionary asked.

  Peri blew out hard trying to catch his breath. He and the cousins were exhausted from fending off the pirates.

  “No. That sort of commerce is not my choice of business,” Peri replied.

  “Could you take it?” inquired Eidos.

  “Look at the brave pirates. The two on the boat have already cut the anchor line,” Alerio pointed out. “Two healthy ones are supporting three wounded. And they’re running too hard to take the bodies of their dead. If Peri wanted it, I’d go and get it for him.”

  The Illyrians pushed off and the healthy ones manned the oars. Soon the pirates were rowing north. None looked at the beach or at the warrior in the red cloak.

  “They still outnumbered us,” Peri commented. Then he questioned. “How did you know they would run?”

  “Captain Crypto, it’s my job,” Alerio responded. “War is always about the nature of man. What good is skill with a weapon if the heart lacks courage, and the mind becomes infected with fear?”

  “Balaites and his Lieutenants had courage,” commented Neos.

  “And that’s why I took them out of the fight early,” Alerio replied. “The mediocre ones fell out when their cowards ran. Like the water in your bilge, they followed the blades of the pump to freedom.”

  Zoon hadn’t moved from where he originally stood. With the battle over, the sailor placed the club on his shoulder and dragged his feet through the sand leaving tread marks leading towards the Thalássio Klouví.

  “Zoon has the right idea,” Peri announced. “Prepare to shove off.”

  Chapter 23 – King Pyrrhus’ Depot

  Alerio noted the high jagged peaks along the coast. From the heights, they dropped into the sea without forming a beach. Waves splashed against rocks projecting above the water, revealing the hazards Neos had warned about. Any ship trying to navigate this coastline in the dark was doomed.

  The sun had passed the midpoint of the day when Peri took over the rear oar.

  “Cape Kepi I Qefalit,” he announced. “Eidos. Join me.”

  The sailor came aft and mounted the platform.

  “What’s happening,” inquired Alerio.

  “We’re sailing rock to rock,” Neos informed him. Indicating the high, sparsely forested foot of land off their port side. “From Qefalit, we’ll go out to sea and out of sight of land.”

  “Another crossing?” Alerio questioned.

  “In a manner, except for this section, we’ll lose sight of that rock. And on a clear day like today, we’ll soon see the rock above Kassiopi.”

  Alerio studied Eidos who peered forward over the bow. Beside him, Peri manned the oar facing to the stern. The Legionary strolled to the platform and mounted it.

  “Why do you have two men on watch?” Alerio asked.

  “Peri is lining the boat up with landmarks on Qefalit,” Eidos described. He talked without taking his eyes off the empty horizon. “We’ll be away from land for a short while. Then, I’ll give him a new heading when I spot Mount Pantokrator.”

  “That’s the rock above the harbor of Kassiopi?”

  “Kassiopi. Finally, a Greek port with familiar food, music, and women,” Eidos reflected.

  Neos jumped up and teased, “Is he talking about the woman at Kassiopi? Don’t let him fool you. She’s skinny and won’t even give him a nod.”

  “She winked at me on the way back from the temple,” Eidos protested. “Before we left, she…”

  “Are you watching or daydreaming?” demanded Peri. “Because we are all at sea.”

  “I’m all eyes on the horizon,” Eidos assured him.

  “Kassiopi was a small fishing harbor of little importance until King Pyrrhus built a supply post there,” Peri informed Alerio. “With a warehouse available, it became a trading port. And a launch point for ships heading north and a safe harbor for returning ships.”

  “Land,” Eidos announced as he took the oar and adjusted the heading. “Bringing us to bear on the harbor.”

  “Not too far east,” Neos stated. “On our last approach, we had to row out of the cove to make the sand.”

  “That’s because it was windy,” protested Eidos.

  “We still had to row and against the wind,” his cousin replied.

  “You might want to watch your step in Kassiopi, Sisera,” warned Peri. “It’s only been nineteen years since Pyrrhus sailed back from the Republic with half his army. There are people alive who hold hard feelings for Latians. Especially for heavy infantrymen.”

  “Legionaries have that effect on people who attack us,” commented Alerio. “I’ll keep the red cloak in my bundle. Eidos mentioned a temple?”

  “The ancients built a Temple of Zeus on the rocks overlooking the harbor,”
Peri replied. Then, he suggested. “After your victory at Dhërmi Beach, it won’t hurt you to pay a visit and leave an offering of thanks.”

  “Our victory, Captain Crypto, and that of your crew,” Alerio corrected then agreed. “An offering to a God for help is an opportunity that should never be passed up.”

  “The entrance to Kassiopi harbor is in sight,” Eidos announced.

  “Roll the sails,” Peri commanded. He took control of the steering oar. “We’ll dine on goat with the proper spices tonight.”

  “And maybe Eidos can find the woman,” Neos offered from beside the mainsail. “That’s if she’s not hiding while we’re in port.”

  “She won’t be. She just might be waiting for me at the beach.”

  “What do you say, Zoon?” Neos asked. “Will she be waiting for Eidos?”

  “No.”

  ***

  From the talk between the cousins, Alerio expected to see a town as they rowed into Kassiopi. Instead, old planks bridged the stone outcrops to his left creating a dock. The boards ran up a gentle rise to the entrance of a large building. Off to his right, a tall rock and timber structure on the stone hill stood guard over the narrow inlet. Widely spaced work huts lined the ground above fishing boats and fish drying racks on the beach.

  “Not much to look at,” commented the Legionary.

  “This is Bataria beach,” Neos informed him. “The dock and warehouse were built by King Pyrrhus to supply his army during the liberation of Greek colonies from the Republic.”

  “It was an invasion,” Alerio corrected.

  Not wanting a political fight on his boat, Peri spoke up, changing the subject.

  “Kassiopi is to the southeast on the far side of the farms and orchards,” he described. “That’s the temple of Zeus off our starboard side. Now, less talking and more rowing.”

  The Thalássio Klouví glided into the cove, angled toward the dock, and nosed onto the brown rocky beach. Zoon dropped the stern anchor and Eidos jump to shore dragging an anchor rope up the beach. In response to the arrival of a trading boat, two men emerged from the warehouse.

  “Peri Crypto. I see you survived the Latians,” one said as the men grabbed a wooden walkway and shoved it from the dock to the boat.

  “The Republic wasn’t a problem,” Peri informed the man. “But we met Illyrian pirates at Dhërmi Beach.”

  “How did you fight off a warship?” he inquired.

  “They were a new crew and hadn’t taken enough transports to buy their own bireme,” Peri replied. “It was ugly but we got away without a visit to the Illyrian slave market.”

  “And with your cargo intact. What have you brought us?”

  “Master Ploutos. What do you have to trade?” Peri responded. “I expect my visit to Kassiopi to earn a profit.”

  “Now who’s the pirate? Come, let me show you.”

  Peri followed Ploutos to the warehouse. Eidos hopped onto the dock boards next to the man who came with the trade master. They sat on the edge of the dock and talked.

  “Ploutos doesn’t seem too desperate,” Alerio commented. “I’d think an island would need supplies.”

  “He could transport the products from Kassiopi through the hills to a bigger town on the other side of the island,” Neos explained. “But then, he’d need to pack the merchandise he purchased back. Peri will take a little more in trade than he gives, making it profitable for us. And saving the residents of Kassiopi days of travel.”

  “Will all our ports of call be in the same situation?”

  “The ones on bigger islands, yes,” Neos responded. “But many are isolated communities. Peri has a reputation with the Islanders for fairness and being willing to trade in small amounts. It makes our trip longer. However, when we get back to Aegina, we’ll have turned over our cargo for more valuable commodities.”

  “And you like this sailing, rowing, and trading life?” inquired Alerio.

  “It beats hoeing, planting, and harvesting on a farm. I could ask you the same thing, Legionary.”

  “I see your point,” Alerio confessed. “What do we do now?”

  The sailor turned his face towards the entrance of the warehouse. When Peri stepped out, he pointed to a quadrant of the deck planking.

  “Grab a hook pole and help me lift the boards off this section,” Neos instructed Alerio. “We have cargo to unload.”

  “And more to reload?”

  “That’s what we do,” the sailor confirmed as he handed a pole to Alerio. “Afterward, we go to town and find Eidos’ girl.”

  “I thought you didn’t like her?”

  “If my cousin likes them skinny, that’s fine by me,” Neos exclaimed. “Then it’s off to find some decent food.”

  “I have an obligation to leave an offering at the temple,” Alerio informed him. “for Zeus watching over us at the beach. I’ll have to catch up with you later.”

  They set the hooks into the ends of the first board and lifted it from the deck.

  ***

  Between the crew of the Thalássio Klouví and four porters, the goods were exchanged quickly and the cover planks reset. Then, chatting and joking Eidos, Neos, Peri, and the trade master strolled up the dock. They vanished around the corner of the warehouse leaving the Legionary and Zoon on the transport.

  “Aren’t you going to town?” Alerio inquired.

  “No,” the sailor replied as he picked up his club and began circling the deck.

  Struck by the resemblance to a guard walking a duty post, Alerio questioned, “Are you worried a resident will sneak onboard and rob us?”

  Zoon held the club in two hands and let his arms sway back and forth as he paced around. When he didn’t answer, Alerio asked, “Will you accompany me to the temple?”

  “No,” came the expected response. Zoon stopped and faced the open water of the Ionian Sea. His chin lifted as if searching the horizon. A moment later, he resumed his patrol. After several steps, he uttered. “No.”

  Out of ideas and reasons for more one-sided conversations, Alerio went to the steering platform, bent down, and pulled out a small clay pot of oil and another filled with fresh water. He set them on the platform and collected a pouch of wheat cakes, a piece of goat’s cheese, and a full wineskin. He wrapped the supplies in goatskin, gathered the corners, and slung the bundle over his shoulder.

  “Last chance to visit Zeus,” Alerio offered.

  Zoon’s eyes flickered out to sea. The motion was quick and if Alerio hadn’t been looking at the sailor, he would have missed it. Without receiving even the single word reply from the vague sailor, Alerio stepped on the ramp and crossed to the dock.

  ***

  Once off the old boards, the brown sand proved firm enough that his hobnailed boots left no trace of his passage. Alerio noted the fishermen’s work huts were deserted. Not unusual as the men who made their living from the sea rowed out at sunrise, fished, and returned at midday. He assumed they were in Kassiopi eating, drinking, and telling stories. The place he would be except for a commitment to pay his respects to Zeus.

  On the far side of the beach, he angled off the gritty surface and circled a rock formation. There he located a trail beaten into the dirt from centuries of foot traffic. On the other side of the level area, the path climbed up to the shrine.

  Alerio hiked between walls created by boulders. Twisting upward and alternating between pebbles, stone, and dirt underfoot, he reached the top. The flat surface gave a pleasant view of the green sea. In the distance, a faint outline of Cape Kepi I Qefalit rose above the horizon. While not visible from the deck of a ship, the feature on the mainland could be identified from higher up.

  On the far end of the flat stone, the rustic Temple of Zeus rose into the air. It lacked the massive base and columns of granite used in temples found in the Capital of the Republic. Long ago, craftsmen had carved and stacked blocks of local stone. The rock structure only came to Alerio’s shoulders. Above the gray stone base, walls of wooden beams supported a
slate roof.

  With little expectation, Alerio strolled to the front of the rustic temple. There he froze in misstep and gawked at the image of Zeus. While the stone base and beams were rough-hewn, the statue of Zeus was expertly chiseled from pure white granite. It was so lifelike, Alerio expected the Greek sky God’s beard to ruffle in the late afternoon breeze and the arm holding the thunderbolt to drop and strike him.

  Quickly, Alerio recovered his composure by straightening his back, closing his mouth, and looking the God in his eyes.

  “I am Alerio Sisera, a Latian and a child of Jupiter,” he proclaimed while approaching the God. He stopped at a sacrificial stone tablet blocking the entrance to the temple. “As I give reverence and thanks to my God for his aid in my struggles, I acknowledge your power and help in my recent voyage.”

  He placed the bundle on the ground in front of the tablet and peeled back the goatskin wrap. With water from the clay jug, Alerio used his hand to scrub away ruminates of older sacrifices from the stone surface. Once clean, he anointed the granite with oil. Finally, he sliced off a section of cheese and placed it, along with half the wheat cakes, on the oiled surface.

  “My offering is humble for I am a lowly Legionary and my means are few,” Alerio said while uncorking the wineskin. He poured wine over the food and added three copper coins. “Please accept these tokens of appreciation for your prior blessings and any you deem to grant me in the future.”

  Alerio paused to see if the statue of polished granite would animate and acknowledge the sacrifice. But Zeus’ eyes continued their steady gaze out at the sea’s horizon and the sky.

  Collecting the bundle, Alerio walked to a boulder and laid out the remaining food. He sliced the cheese with the hunting knife, sheathed the blade, and took a stream of wine. With a wheat cake in one hand and a wedge of cheese in the other, the Legionary took bites and studied the temple.

  Old and weathered, it seemed inadequate for the beautiful artwork inside. Then rays from the setting sun touched Zeus’s face and, for a moment, the eyes of the God blazed in Alerio’s direction. As quick as a wink, the light passed and the eyes returned to their vigil over the sea.