The Soul of Time

by Jennifer Macaire

  The Celts also made remarkable weapons. Axiom admired a knife and I insisted on buying it for him. He protested, but not for long. Afterwards, he tucked it into his belt and his hand was never far from it. It was a deceptively simple weapon with a perfectly balanced blade and leather-wrapped handle. It was made of iron, smelted in a nearby village. The Celts in Britain, like the Gauls in France, worked with iron and made most of their tools with it.

  After we finished shopping, Axiom and I went back to the beach. We were leaving with the tide; Phaleria and Demos were busy readying the ship while the crew took a day off to go to the market.

  Back on board, I put away my purchases, using a large woven chest I’d bought in Orce. Into it went all our clothes, the gifts, and the cloaks. Then I went on deck and sat in the sunshine, just relaxing.

  Erati arrived later. A farmer drove him in a cart into which he’d loaded all the food for our voyage. Half the food was alive, and I helped put the chickens in their pen. Another small pen made of woven laths was for a nanny goat and her three kids; we would have milk and eggs. Bales of fresh hay were stowed down below, some of which we used as our bedding. Water was stored in huge clay jars; freshly milled flour, dried lentils, and peas were kept in tightly woven sacks. Dried hams hung from the beams. Erati checked to see that the supplies were stored away to his liking. Then he supervised the loading of charcoal used in his clay oven. I was fascinated by the cook’s organization. He was a pro, having served Phaleria’s father for nearly ten years.

  There were even a couple amphorae of wine stored carefully in the hay and a clay jar of rapeseed oil Erati had purchased from the Iceni. When everything was ready, Erati paid the merchant who’d helped unload everything. The man touched his lips with his thumb as a sign of acceptance, climbed back into his cart, and drove away.

  Soon the rest of Phaleria’s crew came down the path, each carrying a large bundle of goods. Paul and Yovanix came next, and Alexander, Plexis, and Nearchus arrived five minutes later. Alexander held a large bundle, and it was shaped like a helmet. I hid my smile behind a lock of hair. He couldn’t resist. I knew he missed his bronze breastplate. It had an enamelled Gorgon’s head on the front and was reputed to have been made in the image of Athena’s breastplate. Athena, the goddess with the particoloured eyes, one blue, one brown, was Alexander’s favourite goddess, and he made sacrifices to her every time he set out on a venture. She was also the goddess of wisdom and learning, holding an owl on her arm and an olive branch in her hand. I always thought she was cruel for changing Arachne into a spider, but my own namesake, Persephone, had changed two young boys into lizards for some silly reason I couldn’t even remember. Gods and goddesses tended to lose their tempers easily.

  That thought whispered through my mind as I watched Alexander climbing on board. He was laughing at something Plexis had said, looking backwards over his shoulder. With his bundle tucked under one arm, he easily climbed the ladder. The sun made his hair shine like burnished bronze and his face seemed open as a child’s. It was hard to imagine him losing his temper. However, he had a fearsome temper. It had cost him two friends, and I sometimes wondered if it hadn’t also killed his father.

  I don’t know why I was thinking about that. The day was nearly perfect. Maybe it was the dragon boat itself that stirred my thoughts like dry leaves in the wind. Phaleria had claimed the boat as her own after the druids had destroyed hers. The prow rose six metres above the water in a graceful swan’s neck and finished as a dragon’s head carved out of wood. It was painted realistically with green scales, white teeth, and a red tongue. The boat was the most splendidly built ship I’d seen in that time. It was wide and solidly made. It had a weighted keel that kept it remarkably stable in heavy seas, and two sails made it easy to manoeuvre. It didn’t have as much room down below as Phaleria’s old boat -all the passengers shared a common room piled high with fragrant hay. A low cabin with latticed windows had been added to the deck – before there had been nothing. The rowers sat on deck too, another difference. The boat was swift and light, perfect for trading up and down the coast. Phaleria was pleased with it, but something about the fearsome boat roused memories embedded in my genes. My ancestors had voyaged on boats such as these, and Paul had chosen the North as his spiritual home. Already, he spoke wistfully of when he would return.

  The wind lifted my hair and I sighed. Perhaps it was just hormones, but my mood was a strange one. I could sense the currents of change running through the world; it was opening like an oyster.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The wind picked up as the tide started to ebb, and Phaleria called out to Titte and Oppi to raise the sails. Vix hauled up the anchor, Nearchus took the rudder, and Kell checked his instruments while Demos and Alexander poled the ship away from the docks. Phaleria stood on the deck and waved to her family and friends who had come to see us off. She would return in six months, hopefully.

  We weren’t going directly to Alexandria. We were going to stop in Gaul and Iberia, before crossing the Mediterranean to Carthage then back again, putting in at Pompeii and Rome. I was eager to see those great cities, the last time I’d seen them they’d been in ruins. Then we were going back home. The voyage would take about three months, give or take a few weeks depending on the weather and the currents.

  Alexander was worried. He was afraid he’d be seasick for the entire trip, but we reassured him he would only be sick for about a week, then he’d feel better. I was feeling well, I was two months pregnant, and while I wasn’t exactly over my morning sickness, I had more energy than before. I was slowly getting over the shock of losing a hand, and I was looking forward to travelling. I was a tourist at heart.

  I looked over at Alexander and grinned. He’d unwrapped the helmet and was turning it over in his hands, admiring it. He was a warrior; he couldn’t look at places without trying to imagine how long it would take to conquer them

  He looked at me and winked. ‘I think that village would have fallen after three weeks,’ he said.

  I made a face. How did he do that? ‘Are my thoughts so obvious?’ I asked him.

  ‘When it comes to me, yes.’ He took me in his arms and stroked my hair. ‘I bought the helmet for Ptolemy. It’s not for me, no matter how much I would appreciate it. It is a gift for him for watching over our children while we were gone.’

  ‘That’s right,’ I said. ‘I’d forgotten they were in Memphis. I hope they’re well, and that Ptolemy hasn’t already married his son to Cleopatra.’

  ‘Don’t worry, he hasn’t. He’s no longer afraid of me, but he’ll always fear you, my Ice Queen.’ He chuckled, putting his face close to mine. ‘I bought something for you,’ he said, and he handed me a small package.

  I opened it and gasped. What I saw startled me at first. Then I looked closer. It was a hand, carefully carved from a deer’s antler at the place where it spread out in a natural palm. One end was hollow and fit over my wrist. Laces tied it onto my arm, holding it securely in place. The hand was small; the artist had carved a woman’s hand like mine, carefully shaping the fingers and the nails. I examined it, turning it over and over, tears blurring my vision. I was transparent. Vanity had prompted me to add long sleeves to all my tunics, and I’d taken to holding my arm close to my side. Now, only a careful look would reveal my missing hand. ‘Thank you,’ I whispered.

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  ‘It was your idea, wasn’t it?’ I asked.

  ‘It was.’ He smiled broadly. ‘For once, Plexis didn’t think of it.’

  ‘He wouldn’t have,’ I said, sitting on a low bench. ‘Come and help me put it on. I want to see how it looks.’

  ‘I’ll get one made of ivory in Egypt,’ said Alexander. ‘But this one is nice because it’s so light. In the army, there were hands of all shapes and sizes to replace the ones the soldiers lost. Many had fingers curved just so, to hold shields.’ He held his hand out and gripped an invisible shield handle.

  ‘That’s interesting,’ I said. �
�Why; I wonder, didn’t anyone find them in the graves?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I don’t think people wanted to be buried with them. They knew that they would be whole again in the afterworld. Also, most of my soldiers were cremated. The ivory would have burned.’

  ‘Another thing has been bothering me, but I think I’ve figured it out,’ I said, watching as Alexander adjusted the laces and smoothed them down. ‘I wondered why Voltarrix didn’t use his powers when we first saw him, the time they ambushed us when we were with the Romans?’

  ‘Yes?’ Alexander looked at me, interested now. ‘Why didn’t he? I didn’t think of that.’

  ‘Because we weren’t in the Arctic Circle then.’

  ‘And so? I don’t understand.’

  ‘It’s because of the magnetic pole. He had to be in the Arctic Circle, where the magnetic field is the strongest. It’s simple, really. He didn’t have the full use of his powers until the earth was tilted towards the sun. The solstice is the when the field is the strongest. The valley was surrounded with high cliffs rich in iron. He needed the summer solstice to steal people’s souls. It all works with the magnetic field somehow,’ I said thoughtfully, shaking my head. ‘And later, in the cave, he was surrounded by iron ore. He didn’t need a counter-magnet, he did everything with the force of his thoughts. To voyage in time was beyond him, he didn’t have the power to do that, but he could stop time in a limited radius using the earth’s natural magnetic properties and his own mind. Amazing. The scientists of my time insisted that the human brain was the most powerful instrument in the world. How they would have loved to study Voltarrix’s …’ My voice trailed off.

  ‘Will another druid take his place?’ asked Alexander.

  ‘I don’t know, but it will be too late. Paul was their last chance, and now we’re heading towards Rome’s territories.’

  ‘It’s not Roman yet,’ Alexander looked scandalized. ‘Carthage is free, Egypt and Greece are independent, Gaul is still Gaul.’

  ‘Not for long,’ I said, watching as the land dwindled into the distance. The water changed colour, becoming deep, ultramarine blue. The first waves started to crest, the boat dipping into a trough then rising over a wave. Alexander smiled weakly and closed his eyes.

  ‘I feel dreadful all of a sudden,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m here. I’ll take care of you, and I’ll always love you, even if you turn six shades of green and vomit on me.’

  ‘Sweet.’ He clenched his teeth. ‘Just one thing, don’t mention the words sick, sea, green, or vomit, all right?’

  ‘Deal,’ I said, helping him over to the side of the boat where he leaned over and lost his lunch.

  ‘I think I’ll be fine now,’ he said. ‘In fact, I think I feel much better.’

  ‘Do you think the druid’s medicine will work?’ I was interested. Just before we’d left Britain, the druid that had married Phaleria and Demos had given Alexander a vial of fluid. He was supposed to take three drops whenever he felt seasick. It smelled strongly of mint, and I thought it was probably distilled peppermint leaves. The druids were in charge of the distillery in each village, making alcoholic beverages for the festivals. The Celtic druids used whatever mystical plants were growing nearby. No wonder Roman wine was such a big hit. Mystical plants made bizarre alcoholic beverages.

  Alexander and I watched the land disappear. Evening turned the sky deep purple. Erati lit his oven, and soon the smell of baking bread tickled our noses. Phaleria lit the lanterns hanging from the yardarm, and we sat in their orange glow eating our evening meal.

  We were mostly silent. Setting out on a long journey does that. I thought of all the journeys I’d taken. The voyage back in time. When we’d gone to India, and when we’d crossed the Himalayas in the winter. Usually we’d been in a hurry, either planning an attack or recuperating from one. Now we were going to take our time, we were going to relax and enjoy our voyage, and nothing was going to spoil it.

  I gazed at the stars and frowned. I wondered if the sound I’d just heard was a gust of wind in the sails or the gods laughing at me. I must have looked troubled, because after Alexander finished his bowl of soup, he took three drops of mint potion and draped his arm over my shoulder.

  ‘Don’t worry, Ashley. I’m here.’ He leaned back against the mast, pulling me to his chest. ‘We’re together now, I love you, and even if you are the terrible Queen of the Underworld, I’ll always stay by your side. Give me a kiss and close your eyes. We’ll sleep while the stars look upon us and Nearchus tells a tale of the sea. Listen, just close your eyes and listen.’

  I did, but all I heard was the sound of his heart beating. I fell asleep with a smile on my face. If anyone deserved to be King of Heaven and Earth, I thought, just before I dozed off, it was Alexander.

  ‘King of Heaven and Earth,’ he said dreamily, reading my thoughts. ‘But not of the sea.’

  The boat danced upon the waves as the gods looked down upon us. My dreams were diamond-bright with all the stars in the sky leading us towards our future.

  Á

  Proudly published by Accent Press

  www.accentpress.co.uk