“This war breeds heroes as ordure breeds flies,” Dr. Dismas remarked, “but Enobarbus is a singular champion. He set sail last summer as a mere lieutenant. He led a picket boat smaller than his present command into the harbor of the enemy and sank four ships and damaged a dozen others before his own boat was sunk under him.”
“It was a lucky venture,” Enobarbus said. “We had a long swim of it, I can tell you, and a longer walk afterward.”
Dr. Dismas said, “If Enobarbus has one flaw, it is his humility. After his boat was sunk, he led fifteen men—his entire crew—through twenty leagues of enemy lines, and did not lose one. He was rewarded with command of a division, and he is going downriver to take it up. With your help, Yamamanama, he will soon command much more.”
Enobarbus grinned. “As for humility, I always have you, Dismas. If I have any failing, you are swift to point it out. How fortunate, Yamamanama, that we both know him.”
“More fortunate for you, I think,” Yama said.
“Every hero must be reminded of his humanity, from time to time,” Dr. Dismas said.
“Fortunate for both of us,” Enobarbus told Yama. “We’ll make history, you and I. That is, of course, if you are what Dismas claims. He has been very careful not to bring the proof with him, so that I must keep him alive. He is a most cunning fellow.”
“I’ve lied many times in my life,” Dr. Dismas said, “but this time I tell the truth. For the truth is so astonishing that any lie would pale before it, like a candle in the sun. I think we should leave. My diversion was splendid while it lasted, but already it is almost burned out, and while the Aedile of that silly little city may be a weak man, he is no fool. His soldiers searched the hills after my men set fire to the first ship, and they will search the water this time.”
“You should have trusted my men, Dismas,” Enobarbus said. “We could have taken the boy two nights ago.”
“And the game would have been up at once if anyone had seen you. We should move on at once, or the Aedile will wonder why you do not come to the aid of the burning ship.”
“No,” Enobarbus said, “we’ll tarry here a while. I have brought my own physician, and he’ll take a look at your lad.”
Enobarbus called the man in black forward. He was of the same bloodline as Enobarbus, but considerably older. Although he moved with the same lithe tread, he had a comfortable swag of a belly and his mane, loose about his face, was streaked with gray. His name was Agnitus.
“Take off your shirt, boy,” the physician said. “Let’s see what you’re made of.”
“It’s better you do it yourself,” Dr. Dismas advised. “They can tie you down and do it anyway, and it will be more humiliating, I promise you. Be strong, Yamamanama. Be true to your inheritance. All will be well. Soon you will thank me.”
“I do not think so,” Yama said, but pulled his shirt over his head. Now he knew that he was not going to be killed, he felt a shivery excitement. This was the adventure he had dreamed of, but unlike his dreams it was not under his control.
The physician, Agnitus, sat Yama on a stool and took his right arm and turned the joints of his fingers and wrist and elbow, ran cold hard fingers down his ribs and prodded at his backbone. He shone a light in Yama’s right eye and gazed closely at it, then fitted a kind of skeletal helmet over Yama’s scalp and turned various screws until their blunt ends gripped his skull, and recorded the measurements in a little oilskin-covered notebook.
Dr. Dismas said impatiently, “You’ll see that he has a very distinctive bone structure, but the real proof is in his genotype. I hardly think you can conduct that kind of test here.”
Agnitus said to Enobarbus, “He’s right, my lord. I must take a sample of the boy’s blood and a scraping of the skin from the inside of his cheek. But I can tell you now that his bloodline is not one I recognize, and I’ve seen plenty in my time. And he’s not a surgical construct, unless our apothecary is more cunning than I am.”
“I would not presume,” Dr. Dismas said.
“A proof by elimination is less satisfactory than one by demonstration,” Enobarbus said. “But unless we storm the library of the Department of Apothecaries and Chirurgeons, we must be content with what we have.”
“That is true,” Dr. Dismas said. “Haven’t I sworn it so? And does he not fulfill the prophecy made to you?”
Enobarbus nodded. “Yamamanama, you’ve always believed yourself special. Do you have a clear view of your destiny?”
Yama pulled his shirt over his head. He liked Enobarbus’s bold candor, but mistrusted him because he was clearly an ally of Dr. Dismas. He realized that everyone was looking at him, and he said defiantly, “I would say that you are a proud and ambitious man, Enobarbus, a leader of men who would seek a prize greater than mere promotion. You believe that I can help you, although I do not know how—unless it is to do with the circumstances of my birth. Dr. Dismas knows about that, I think, but he likes to tease.”
Enobarbus laughed. “Well said! He reads us both as easily as reading a book, Dismas. We must be careful.”
“The Aedile would have made him a clerk,” Dr. Dismas said with disgust.
“The Aedile belongs to a part of our department that is not noted for its imagination,” Enobarbus said. “It is why men like him are entrusted with the administration of unimportant towns. They can be relied upon precisely because they have no imagination. We should not condemn him for what, in his office, is a virtue.”
“Yamamanama, listen to me. With my help, the world itself lies within your grasp. Do you understand? You have always considered yourself to be of special birth, I know. Well, Dismas has discovered that you are unique, and he has convinced me that you are a part of my destiny.”
And then this powerful young man did an extraordinary thing. He knelt before Yama and bowed his head until his forehead touched the deck. He looked up through the tangle of his mane and said, “I will serve you well, Yamamanama. I swear with my life. Together we will save Confluence.”
“Please get up,” Yama said. He was frightened by this gesture, for it marked a solemn moment whose significance he did not fully understand. “I do not know why I have been brought here, or why you are saying these things, but I did not ask for any of it, and I do not want it.”
“Stand fast,” Dr. Dismas hissed, and grasped Yama’s upper arm in a cruel pinch.
Enobarbus stood. “Let him alone, Dismas. My lord . . . Yamamanama . . . we are about to embark upon a hard and perilous journey. I have worked toward it all my life. When I was a cub, I was blessed by a vision. It was in the temple of my bloodline, in Ys. I was praying for my brother, who had died in battle a hundred days before. The news had just reached me. I was praying that I could avenge him and that I could play my part in saving Confluence from the heretics. I was very young, as you might imagine, and very foolish, but my prayers were answered. The shrine lit and a woman arrayed in white appeared, and told me of my destiny. I accepted, and I have been trying my best to carry it out ever since.”
“Yamamanama, to know one’s fate is a privilege granted only to a few men, and it is a heavy responsibility. Most men live their lives as they can. I must live my life in pursuit of an ideal. It has stripped me of my humanity as faith strips an eremite of worldly possessions, and honed my life to a single point. Nothing else matters to me. How often have I wished that the obligation be lifted, but it has not, and I have come to accept it. And here we are, as was predicted long ago.”
Enobarbus suddenly smiled. It transformed his wrecked face as a firework, bursting across the dark sky, transforms the night. He clapped his hands. “I have spoken enough for now. I will speak more, Yamamanama, I promise, but it must wait until we are safe. Pay your men, Dismas. We are at last embarked on our journey.”