Kallista

by David Bell

  There were many rooms, some open, others with doors tightly closed. All of them had wall paintings of flowers, animals, trees and birds. I looked into bedrooms furnished with cots and sleeping pallets; a bathroom with a basin, spouted ewers and drying cloths; a dressing room hung with robes, skirts, girdles and blouses, and in front of a small window, a table on which stood a mirror of polished silver, combs, tiny brushes and silver files, jars of sweet oils and dried-out creams and many more of the things women used to paint their faces and perfume their bodies. In every room were dead flowers, poppies, crocuses, lilies and graceful reeds and sedges in richly painted vases, and everywhere lingered the faint sweet perfume and the dry smell of dust. The floor of a dining room was strewn with dried rushes on which stood a low table. Dishes and plates with remnants of food had been put aside on a bench along one wall and the table was set with a wine flask, alabaster beakers, a honey jar, bowls with dried crocus and poppy heads, quills cut from goose feathers, and some small beeswax lamps. A sandalwood box held phials containing a dark syrup and a few tiny shallow dishes with handles, blackened on the base as if they had been held many times over a flame. They gave off the same sweet, heavy scent we had breathed in that night on Tholos.

  The remaining room had a closed double door that would not open until I forced the panels apart with my sword. Sunlight slanted in through a window in the wall opposite, minute specks of dust dancing in the shaft of light. What I saw told me I should not be there yet kept me standing in the doorway, afraid and unable to move as my eyes slowly looked around the room. In the middle of the floor was a large bed covered with a golden cloth, richer than any I had ever seen in Merida’s warehouse. On a bedside table lay some wooden figurines with rounded heads on smooth slender bodies, or at least they looked like figurines. The plastered walls and ceiling were covered with paintings of beautiful women, young and matron, with bright eyes and long hair, and all of them proudly naked but for their gold earrings and their bracelets. One scene was like the sensual, threatening dancing we had seen around the fire at night on Tholos; another showed a priestess attended by her maidens standing before an altar on which lay the bleeding head of a bull. There were other scenes, like those that Kanesh once told me he had seen on his travels, but Something, Someone, the Lady, perhaps, forbids me to describe them. On the ceiling was a painting of a pool in a courtyard, just like the one outside; girls and women were sitting on the steps while others stood in the water beckoning to others to come in. Strangely without being surprised, I saw that one of these women had the face of my mother. It was like a dream: the flowers, the perfumes, the voluptuous women, and this house whose every room displayed elegant, seductive female luxury.

  I was shaken out of my trance by the faint sound of distant shouts and cheers coming through the sun-drenched window. The Davina: she must be back. I turned to run downstairs, but some strange force held me and made me tread slowly and reverently through the dusty and deserted rooms and out into the sad, empty courtyard below. Only then did it come to me that the house was empty, except for its ghosts and they were telling me to leave the Lady’s House to the Lady and her women and their mysterious rites and pleasures with each other, and never enter it again.

  I found my men outside in the street, concerned that I was so long in the house by myself, but too afraid to come in to see. They had found some meagre leftovers in the shop and the flourmill they had been searching and gave me a list as we all hurried down to the harbour. I

  told them I had found nothing worth taking. On our way we met up with more men who had been looking for survivors in other parts of the town. Only a handful of half-starved women and children had been found hiding in backrooms and attics and these had already been shepherded down to the harbour to join the others. We passed by important public buildings like the Governor’s Residence and Crocus House without bothering to look in because they had been among the first places the invaders took over, first to pillage and then to occupy; none of our people would be left there.

  We went through the harbour gate and across the yard at a run and joined the excited crowd on the jetty. Everyone was waving and cheering as the Davina was manoeuvred towards the wall for tying up. It looked as if everyone was there, even our rescued people. The prisoners we had taken must have been locked up in one of the warehouses. A short distance further out and waiting its turn to berth was the enemy ship on which I could see Namun standing on the stern deck, waving towards the shore and pointing the sword he held in his other hand at the helmsman working the steering oar. The Davina had brought in her prize.

  Ignoring all the noise around him, Kanesh stood waiting for Potyr to secure his ship. The crowd fell silent, waiting for the first passengers to come ashore and then broke out with cries of anger and weeping when they realised these were four frightened and tear-stained girls being helped onto the jetty. Some older women, mothers, aunts perhaps, pushed through the crowd to clasp their arms round the children they had given up hope of ever seeing again. Potyr gave orders for unloading supplies and bringing the enemy prisoners ashore then to be marched off under guard against possible attack from the incensed crowd. At last he climbed onto the jetty and stood before Kanesh. Neither said a word, but the look in their eyes spoke clearly of satisfaction, relief and fatigue. Then they both strode away with the Captain of Archers to find a quiet place to discuss what had to be done next.

  Namun brought the other ship in. The men at the oars were survivors of those who had taken her out earlier in the day, first to attack the Davina and then to run from her. Now they were sweating under the menacing gaze of Kerma and some of the Davina’s more hefty crewmen; and soon they were sweating even more as they unloaded baskets, sacks, boxes and jars, all crammed with the food and drink we desperately needed and they had tried to steal. It was the saving of us; the enemy vessel had carried enough provisions, and other booty, to keep us going until supplies could be shipped over from Keftiu.

  Namun told me what had happened when the Davina chased the escaping enemy ship. They must have hoped to stay ahead until the light faded and then hide in a cove somewhere until the Davina gave up the hunt, but greed had been their undoing. They had loaded her with so much loot that she was too low in the water to make her best speed and the Davina had drawn level with her halfway across White Bay and manoeuvered to force her towards the shore. The enemy commander decided to make a fight of it, hauled in his larboard side oars and closed on the Davina with boarders readying themselves for the leap. Potyr would have fought but Namun had acted on his own initiative. He came out of the stern cabin holding a firepot at head height so that all could see what it was, and made as if to hurl it into the enemy ship. The boarders quailed at the sight and backed away while some of the oarsmen let go their oars and started to get up, obviously thinking of jumping overboard. The enemy commander was powerless: half his oars were shipped; the Davina could keep him in range of Namun’s missile without herself coming close enough to be boarded or grappled, and he was being forced into the bay. He glared across at Potyr on the stern, raised both arms to the sky and threw his sword into the sea: surrender. For a while the two ships drifted, their crews speechless in amazement at the sudden change of events. Potyr was the first to recover and spoke tersely to Namun. Namun saluted, put his firepot carefully down on the deck and bellowed Potyr’s orders across to the commander: all weapons to be thrown overboard immediately; oarsmen to tie the hands of all the remaining crew, half of them to come aboard the Davina and be replaced by Davina crewmen as guards; helmsman and oarsmen to stay on board but the commander to transfer to the Davina. It would have taken a long time to get all this done in any event, but what delayed them even more was the discovery of the four terrified girls who had been bound and gagged and hidden under sacks in the cargo space. As they were being helped as gently as possible aboard the Davina some of the outraged crew shouted that the bloody pirates should be thrown overboard, why not, after all they had done to the town and our people,
and now this? Yet a look from Potyr silenced them; he was as furious as the crew at what he saw, but he knew the enemy prisoners would be needed as a workforce for the many tasks that lay ahead in repairing the town and bringing it back to life again.

  Namun had been put in command of the prize ship and was gathering his kit together as the enemy commander was brought to Potyr. He picked up the firepot and pretended to trip, dropping it on the deck where it shattered to peces. Everyone started back in horror, but nothing happened, no flames leaped up, no smoke belched out. The pot contained only water. Namun said the look on the enemy commander’s face could have killed a crocodile. As for Potyr, Namun was rather more worried; he knew the skipper had a way of dealing with those who kept secrets from him, especially if they had anything to do with his ship.

  I was drained of all feeling. Even my despair at not finding Kallia had faded to a dull ache. I wanted only to sleep and hardly cared if I never woke again. I stood looking out to sea and seeing nothing. I sensed Kanesh standing beside me. For a long time he was silent, then he told me to look around. These were my men, dishevelled, blood-stained, tired, watching me and waiting to be told what to do; stores unloaded from the two ships lay stacked on the jetty awaiting removal to the warehouse; the last of a line of prisoners carrying litters with the bodies of their dead comrades were disappearing in the direction of the beach beyond the harbour wall; smoke was rising from a fire in the harbour yard where some of the women were cooking food for their children. Beyond the harbour was the town with its narrow winding streets of close-packed houses climbing up the slope, their once freshly-painted walls now stained and shabby and many of their roofs sagging or collapsed. Kanesh swept his arm across the whole scene. I knew what he meant. I said I needed a little time for my men to clean up and eat. He nodded and said that, when I was ready, I was to come to the harbourmaster’s lodge near the gate for orders.

  To save time we ate our food on the way to the beach and as soon as we were there everyone stripped and waded into the sea to wash away the filth of battle, and then to float, dozing in the warm, soothing water. The sun was now well down the sky and the blue haze of evening was gathering on the horizon. It was all peaceful and quiet except for the soft hiss of the waves as they broke onto the sand. Further along the beach a pyre was being built for the enemy dead; prisoners under escort were now bringing down charred bodies they had recovered from the waters of the harbour. Driftwood, dry thorn, half-burnt shields and splintered lances were being piled over the mound of corpses and jars of oil stood nearby to quicken the flames. Our mood changed; the beach, where for a few moments we had forgotten the events of the day, was now also a place of death. We dressed in silence and hurried back towards the town.

  In the harbourmaster’s lodge I found Kanesh, Potyr and the Captain of Archers talking about casualties and manpower. We had lost five men dead and several wounded, two seriously and unlikely to survive. Our available force would now be very thinly spread with two ships to crew, prisoners to be guarded, much of the town yet to be searched, patrols to be sent out to forage and check for survivors, especially the Governor, in the outlying villages and homesteads and pursue any of the enemy who might have been out of the town when we attacked, lookouts to be posted and beacons built and supplied with firewood to be lit on sighting of enemy ships, and all the business of feeding arrangements for the men, townspeople and prisoners and their general care and supervision to be organised. The prisoners would have to be put to work, but that would mean adequate rations if they were to do their jobs satisfactorily. Some of the women would be given responsibility for food preparation and others the care of the wounded. Armourers must be set to sorting and repairing weapons and carpenters to mending shields and any damage that the ships had suffered. Repairing the damage caused by the earth-shaking and getting the water supply and drainage working again would have to wait until much more help could come from Keftiu and the islands where we had friends. The idea of seeking help with supplies and skilled craftsmen from the Black Land was dismissed because the news from there was of continuing unrest and breakdown in trade and government caused by the Hykshasus wars.

  It was decided that Potyr should return to Keftiu with the Davina as soon as possible, taking all the information that would be necessary to convince the Palace officials in Keftiu that Kallista needed help urgently, with trained troops, workmen and supplies if it were to be able to resist a future attack that might be launched when it became known what had happened to the first invading force and how poor the defences were at present. Kallista was an outpost for Keftiu and an enemy base there would threaten the trade routes and in time Keftiu itself. Potyr said that if he could report that the Temple on the Hill and the cult places were being made safe it should help their cause with the Palace. Kanesh told him that he should first see Sekara, the deputy commander and stress the danger of future raids. Sekara should be urged to act fast, once he had been persuaded. After that, Potyr should do his utmost to encourage those who had fled Kallista for Keftiu after the earthquake, especially any skilled artisans, to return as soon as transport could be found for them. Only a skeleton crew could be spared for the Davina, leaving room for some of the women and children who would feel safer with kinsfolk in Keftiu. The captured pirate vessel under Namun’s command would serve as a transport and patrol ship. Smaller craft, even canoes, must be taken over and repaired for work in the harbours and making contact with fishing villages and other settlements within the Lagoon.

  I told them my mother would surely want to return to Kallista as soon as she heard what had happened, to help where she could with the people and with what might be done about the Temple on the Hill. We had no news of the Priestess and her servants. Whether they had been lost in the earth shaking, or at the hands of the invaders, or were in hiding somewhere on the island, we did not know.

  Kanesh’s face was expressionless but I knew he agreed with me. My mother would not be refused. Kanesh gave me a long look before nodding and then murmuring something about people first and priestesses afterwards. Someone, Potyr, I think, mentioned the name Dareka. I felt ashamed: why had I not thought of him for so long? Where could he be? Was he alive? So many were missing. No one could be better than Dareka at getting supplies organised and shipping ordered and chartered. I must search for him, too.

  It was now nearly sunset but there was one more task to finish before we could rest. Potyr sent for the two enemy commanders to be brought under guard from their temporary prison. They arrived escorted by archers carrying lighted torches and came to a stop in front of Potyr, showing no sign of fear or submission. He said quietly that although their men had committed unforgivable crimes for which their dead could not be allowed to stay on Kallista – and here the commanders gave him sharp and defiant looks – they had fought bravely and would be given proper despatch into the afterlife. Their bodies, each with a sword lying on the breast, would be burned on the seashore at night and their spirits would be released by the flames and rise into the sky while the red War Star shone, and their cold ashes would be scattered on the waves as an offering to the Deity of Oceans. When the commander who had fought the battle in the streets began to protest, the expression on Kanesh’s face made me wonder whether this man might soon be added to the pyre, but Potyr said it had been decided and it was a more honourable end than they could have expected. He did not think it necessary to tell the enemy officers that our own dead would be buried facing the sunrise at dawn on the next day. As the commander was being led away he shouted defiantly that others of his people would come in greater numbers to avenge the comrades lost on this accursed island.

  The enemy survivors were marched by torchlight to the beach and assembled before the pyre with their arms free but their ankles hobbled with rope under the watchful eyes of heavily armed archers and swordsmen. Potyr offered the lighted torch to the enemy commander who refused to take it at first, but snatched it when he saw Kanesh step forward with his hand outstretched. The oil-s
oaked thorn and dry wood caught quickly and with a roar and blast of heat the flames forked upwards. I saw corpses twist and hunch as the heat grew as if their spirits strove to leave their bodies. A lurid glow shone on the faces of the prisoners who had all raised the right arm to point to the red War Star. I saw their lips moving but the noise of the blaze drowned the words that they kept on chanting until the flames had died down and the bodies had turned to embers that would be dust by dawn. Then prisoners and escort turned away from the shimmering pyre and faded into the darkness on their way back to the town. The Charioteer had watched it all, shining brightly above us now that the fire had died down. His catch had been a heavy one that day.

  When dawn came, a burial party carried our own dead to a place overlooking the Lagoon and in sight of the ruined Temple on the Hill. We had no priestess to say the sacred words so as the bodies, wrapped in woollen shrouds and each with a sword for protection, were lowered into their temporary grave, Potyr appealed to the Mother to guard her children until the time when her rightful servants could perform the proper ceremony. Someone told me afterwards that while this was happening, wisps of pale smoke were seen rising from Kuros in the Lagoon, as if they were the spirits of our comrades, seeking the skies. I told him that our men had been laid in the ground. If those had been spirits rising, I said, they had been the spirits of our enemies.

  When I got back to the harbour it was bustling with movement. The Davina was taking on stores and passengers for her return to Keftiu. It would be a hard row for a reduced crew but Potyr was confident that he would get a favourable wind before he drew level with Tholos. We knew he would make the crossing as quickly as he could, but as to when he would be back, we could only hope. He said he would be ready to sail at midday, an unusual time for him, so Kanesh told me to go to the house where the wounded had been placed in the care of two women who would tell me if there were any medicines that ought to be brought back from Keftiu.