by David Bell
“Has Naudok been speaking to you?”
“He says very little to anyone but I have seen what he has been doing behind the workshop and sometimes he thinks out loud.”
“You mean where he plays with the water?” said Typhis.
“Play is the wrong word,” replied Potyr reprovingly. “He had a mason build a stone basin and fill it with water. He floats wooden models of ships he has made in the basin and gets one of the shipwrights to make waves so that he can see how a ship rides. Or he gets the man to use a fan or blow through a pipe to raise a wind and watches the ship behave when he changes the position of the mast or the size or the set of the sail. He was doing this once and I heard him say that a ship should be able to sail to windward, but how it could be made to do that I cannot understand. He makes drawings on that wadij stuff and all kinds of marks and lines and then hides himself in the workshop looking at them and changing them until the lamps burn out. What it all means only he and the Lady Mother know.”
“And neither one nor the other will say,” said Kanesh.
“What I do know,” replied Potyr, “is that sometimes in the morning the master shipwright is told he has to change something because during the night Naudok has come up with a better way of doing it.”
“Well, if he doesn’t tell us soon about his better way of steering a ship, I’ll choke it out of him,” declared Typhis.
“It must be something to do with that straight up sternpost,” mused Potyr. “It is not as long as it should be.”
Sharesh lay on the deck looking up at the night sky. At first light the ship would set sail for Kallista, and he would see his mother and Tika, perhaps as early as dawn the day after next. He opened his mouth to shout in delight, but shut it again quickly, remembering Typhis’s warnings about letting other people get their sleep. Gruff old Typhis: how good it was to find him again, snoring on that bench after he had wandered through all those dark pkaces, wondering if ever he would see the sun again. Typhis made you feel safe. How funny he was, though, with the Lady Pasipha: meek as a lamb and doing every little thing she told him to do. She could make you do that, Pasipha with the shining eyes, placing his hand on her breast. The image of the sacred white cow flashed into his mind. Don’t think of that. Think of something else, quickly.
The new moon was a silver slash in the blackness, letting pale light shine through, as if a curtain had been pulled back from a window by a hidden hand, revealing the light inside the house. But that would be warm light, from a lamp, or a fire. The moon looked cold. Why was that so? That great red star climbing towards the moon was like an ember, it was so red. And that one, lower down, if you squinted at it, was as blue as the star flower that Amaia said helped you sleep. Where were the Hunter and the Charioteer? Hunting somewhere far away, he supposed. A thin white line ran halfway across the black sky and disappeared as quickly as it had come. He had seen many of them before. Kanesh said lots of them streaked the sky at this time of the year. Namun said a great invisible lion slashed the night with his talons letting the light through for a moment before the Ashatar mended the tears again. Ashatar was Namun’s name for the Lady Mother. Could the Ashatar be black, like Namun? He always felt tired after he had seen those thin white lines in the sky. He felt tired now. He must be awake at dawn when the ship set sail. Potyr had promised him he could cast off the bow line. Pasipha. Kallia.
He could not move. From the shadows a hand reached out to him, a hand wrapped in bloodstained bandages with the finger bones sticking out and reaching for him with their curved claws. The claws dug into his flesh.
“Wake up,” hissed Namun, shaking him by the shoulder.
Jerked out of his nightmare, covered in a cold sweat, Sharesh gasped and shuddered.
“Lady Mother, you nearly scared the life out of me. What are you doing? It’s still night time.”
“Never mind that, there’s something you ought to see. Watch where you put your feet and don’t make a sound.”
They slid down from the bow deck and made their way stealthily aft, stepping over crewmen huddled asleep under their blankets on the main deck. Namun stopped near the entrance to the hold, took Sharesh by the arm, held one finger to his lips and then pointed it downwards. A dim light was shining through a crack in the planks. Sharesh knelt down to look into the hold. A lamp hung from the deck timbers and, in its glow, Sharesh could see that two cots had been placed side by side, shielded by a curtain from anyone who might enter the hold. Two people were asleep in the cots, one a woman with her long ringlets spread out on her pillow, and the other a girl with her hair coiled in the elaborate knot he had seen worn by the dancers at the Palace. She turned over in her sleep and Sharesh gasped again as he recognised Kallia.
“That’s made you wide awake now, hasn’t it?” whispered Namun. “No point going back to sleep again. It’s coming up dawn soon and if you’re at your post when Potyr looks forward, you might even get a nod from him. I’m going aft, ready for the stern line. No more peeking at the ladies, remember.”
Clutched by nightmare at the beginning of the voyage, Sharesh spent the rest of it in a dream of happiness. She was going back to Kallista, why he did not know, but what mattered was that she was here on the same ship with him. They could not speak to each other, of course; the Lady Tuwea kept her too close for that and watched everyone with suspicious disdain as she sat in the chair provided for her in the stern cabin, with Kallia at her side. It was a hot late summer day and with a slight following wind the Palace ship made a fast time. The crew were in good spirits: the Kallista men keen to be at home again for a while, and the Keftiu oarsmen just as keen to sample the taverns, and girls, if they were lucky, of a port that was well known for both.
She did not come out of the cabin until they had Tholos in sight. She stood with her hand on the rail, shading her eyes from the sun with her hand as she looked across the smooth blue water at the cone shaped central island of the line of three rising from the sea. He prayed to the Lady Mother that Kallia would look his way, but she turned her back to watch a flight of sea birds dive into the ship’s wake. The lookout called his sighting of the jagged black reef that lay off their starboard bow and she turned at the sound of his cry to find Sharesh staring straight at her. He mouthed the words at her: I am Sharesh. She smiled at him and nodded. I know, her lips said. He gave a little skip and a dance step or two and went through the motions of pulling something, a mask, over his head. Her smile faded and she looked rather sadly at him. He held up his hands, fingers spread wide: what have I done? She sighed and shook her head. Lady Tuwea’s voice could be heard calling from the cabin. Kallia lifted one hand to him and went inside as she was bidden.
Dusk was settling when the lookout sighted land ahead. On Potyr’s order the stroke was lowered and the ship’s speed slackened until she was just kept under way. Having been away from Kallista for so long he could not be sure of conditions in the harbour so he preferred to make his approach when there was enough light to steer his way through any clutter of shipping that might be there. Namun joined Sharesh on the bow deck and they both sat straining their eyes into the gathering darkness, each vying to be first to see a light on the coast. Neither won the contest and the lookout had to kick them both awake as the ship drew level with the Red Cliffs. Sharesh had hoped she would be on deck to see him cast the line as the ship neared the jetty, and then leap ashore to help secure it to the bollard, but she was nowhere to be seen. Strong arms were wrapped round him as he stood up after turning two smart hitches on the rope, as instructed. Dareka stood back and looked at him with a smile of relief on his face and love in his eyes.
“You’ve grown,” he said. “Your mother won’t recognise you.”
Sharesh bowed his head briefly in the gesture of respect and flung his arms round Dareka’s neck.
“I’ll get my things. Where is Tika? Is she all right?”
The ship was already bustling with activity as the crew stowed oars and other gear and prepared to open up th
e hold. A crowd of port labourers gathered on the jetty ready to start the unloading. A light cart drawn by a donkey drew up and the groom asked where the Lady Tuwea was. Eventually she appeared, huddled in a long cloak, was helped onto the jetty and took her place in the cart. The groom dived into the hold, emerging moments later with several baskets that he placed behind her, took up his whip and flicked it at the donkey’s flank. As the cart’s wheels began to turn Kallia leaped onto the jetty, took her place beside Tuwea and the cart drove towards the harbour exit. It all happened so quickly that Sharesh was left looking after them with his mouth still open to speak as they disappeared through the gate.
“Boy there, get yourself aft and bring those slings with you; there’s cargo to be shifted. I want this ship cleared and cleaned before the rats do the job for us.”
“He’s right, you know,” said the Dareka, coming up behind Sharesh. “You’re still one of the crew. Soonest started, soonest finished: then you can see your mother. And Tika of course,” he added with a smile.
“Messages for you,” Dareka said to Potyr. “Merida expects us at his town house in the square at sunset and you have an audience with the Governor tomorrow morning. We have to look over the return cargo in the warehouse, of course, and there are people asking for passages back to Keftiu, but they can wait. Where is Kanesh?”
“He chose not to sail with us. He said he has things to do on Keftiu, and elsewhere. He did not say what these were. He did say he would return here but that might not be before the fig trees come into leaf. I have letters from him.”
“So, he’s not coming back until next year? Merida will not be pleased. This is a handsome vessel.”
“We have her for this voyage only. We have not yet found a replacement.”
“I have. One of Merida’s men heard of her. She should be on her way here from Telchina now, with copper and timber mostly. She’s Gubal-built and about the same loading as the Dolphin, not fast, but strong and a good sea boat, I’ve been told. She’ll land her copper here, take on stores and dried fish and you know the other sorts of things Merida ships to Keftiu, and carry those and her timber there. That will be a while after you have gone back. It’s special timber Naudok says he must have. You will take her over on Keftiu. We leave the crewing up to you after that.”
“Has she been on the Gubal-Black Land run?”
“Ever since she was built, along with some passages to Alasiya.”
“Then she should serve our purpose until the time comes.”
“Ah, yes, when the time comes. You must tell me about that, and about pirates. The chance of this ship came only because Kaperon – you know, he lost a ship to pirates off Hyria – is pulling in his horns and following mostly coastal lanes nowadays. What is the news on pirates? We heard some rumour that the navy was sending out fighting patrols.”
“We had an encounter off Kestera that should bring some respite for a while but the threat remains and we must be vigilant.”
“The Governor will wish to know all about that.”
She was sitting in the courtyard near the little fountain where the overhanging vines cast their cool shade. He crept silently up behind her and gently put his hands over her eyes. He felt a slight movement of her cheeks and knew she was smiling. She placed her soft hands over his.
“Sharesh. Home is my sailor, my wanderer.”
He slipped his hands from under hers and and went to kneel down in front of her. She took his hands again and looked long into his eyes, smiling all the time at him.
“I knew he would bring you safe home.”
“I came with Captain Potyr and Typhis, and the Lady Tuwea, and, and,” he stammered, “and Namun. Kanesh had to stay in Keftiu. Mother, you look sad, why?”
She smiled at him again. “I am not sad. How can I be sad when I have you safe back home?”
“He asked me to tell you that he will return to Kallista when the fig trees come into leaf again. He said you would remember.”
“Oh, yes, I remember. I know what he means.”
“Captain Potyr has a letter from him for you.”
“Captain Potyr can be trusted with the most valuable cargo.”
What could she mean? Potyr always took charge of the valuable items on a voyage. Even Merida trusted him to do that. He burst out:
“Mother, I have seen so many things and done so many things. I have seen snow on the mountaintops, and the graves of nobles, and I went to the Games and saw the champion bull leaper crowned Victor of the Games by the High Priestess, and I saw where the bulls are raised, and the ship, Mother, you should see the ship they’re bulding, and I went to the quarry where the stone comes from for the new harbour wall, and the Palace, Mother, the Palace of Kunisu, it’s, oh, I can’t describe it, it’s as big as a city, and I saw the dancing, and the painter was there and –”
“Stop, stop,” she laughed. “You can tell me everything after we have said a prayer to the Lady Mother for your safe return, and after you have eaten the food Seta has made for you; she has been cooking ever since we heard that the ship had arrived.”
Later she asked him about the people he had met.
“Leilia,” he said. “I think she knows who you are. She told the Lady Tuwea she was a servant of the Lady Mother, but now she looks after Naudok. I think she is his mother. She said his life was saved when she prayed to the Lady of Healing.”
“Kamrosepas, she entered the service of Kamrosepas,” whispered Akusha, bowing her head.
“Yes, how did you know?”
“Go on.”
“Sukare, a lord, I think. He is governor of a province and lives in a great house at Setujia in the hills above the Palace. He said he knew you before I was born. That was how I found out you lived in Keftiu once. You never told me.”
“Sharesh, sometimes it is better for you to find things out for yourself. You said something about dances.”
“We watched the dancing at night, after the bull leaping at the Palace, Namun was there and Kanesh. There was some more dancing when I went again and I joined in.”
Akusha looked quickly at him, her head on one side. “You went again? Who went with you?”
“Typhis. Kanesh was at sea. The Lady Pasipha –”
“Pasipha!” She stopped before she said any more. The boy looked alarmed at the force of her voice. She must tread very carefully there; better still, talk of something else now.
“She said she knew you as well, and you were kind to her.”
“A long time ago, my son. Now, what stories did that old man tell you? Something about heroes, to be sure.”
Somewhat to their surprise, Merida seemed pleased to see them. Dareka confided later that Tuwea had marched her husband round the new mansion for most of the day, finding fault with almost everything: the size of the rooms, the standard of workmanship, the design of the gardens, the poor water supply, the smell that came from a herd of goats that roamed the edge of the cliffs overlooking the lagoon. They would certainly have to go. The last straw had been the donkey cart: why did he not have a horse to draw her carriage? She was accustomed to that on Keftiu. The only thing that met with her approval was the elegant young manservant with his yellow and blue kilt and his graceful way of walking. Merida was glad to seize the chance to slip away while his wife and the young man strolled about the garden discussing where the almond trees should be planted. Now he sat on his terrace overlooking the town square in the still heat of early evening with the other three men. Potyr finished his account of the work in progress on the ship and waited for Merida’s response. He expected an outburst of frustration and annoyance at the very least but what he got was a few nods of understanding and a rather exaggerated sigh.
“So, what you’re saying is that she won’t be finished until the new sailing season?”
“No. In fact, she may be finished before the end of the year but it would be pointless to launch her because the weather would be too uncertain for her to put to sea. Whether she will be finished soo
ner rather than later depends on the supply of timber; interruptions in that have been the main cause of delay.”
“Can’t be helped. After that shipment of cedar went up in smoke I must admit I didn’t expect anything different. Now, let’s look on the bright side. We’re doing very nicely from transporting stone for the new Palace harbour wall. Don’t look like that, Typhis, you won’t be going back on that run again. I’ve got something else in store for you. Potyr, you haven’t told me of how you and the navy did for that pirate ship off Kestera – I expect you were going to – but I know about it, and you know what I think? I think it gives us a chance to do a lot more trading and build up our treasure again – and we really need to do that – because after what you did at Kestera we won’t be seeing any more pirates in our seas in what’s left of this sailing season at least. Has Dareka here told you about taking over Kaperon’s ship when she docks in Keftiu? He has? Good. Once she’s unloaded there I want her turned round as fast as you know how and back here with all the goods my agent is storing up there. Then you’ll be heading for Telchina and Alasiya and Gubal, and who knows, maybe even the Black Land if there’s profit to be had—you have to take whatever chance you can – and back to Keftiu again. How does that sound?”
“Like a lot of hard work,” grunted Typhis. “Are you going to give us anything to drink?”
“We have our pilot for the Tin Islands,” said Potyr.
Merida looked at him in astonishment. “Well, that is something. That is good news. Where did you come across him? I want to hear all about it.”
“It is a long story,” said Potyr. “Wine would ease the telling.”
Merida gave him another look of surprise. Could Potyr possibly be making a joke? “Good old Potyr,’” he laughed. “You haven’t lost your touch. First Gaiduros, and now Kestera. They’ll be making you an admiral next!”