"I'll write it down," I told him.
"To be sure!" Pindaros laughed softly. "The gods have their revenge, as always.
"We call for night to hide our acts, But Night, a god, gives God the facts."
"I like that, too," I said.
"Composed for you this moment and thrown hot from the forge. Still, there may be something in it. We've need of night."
"Pindaros, is there really a god of night?"
"There are at least a dozen."
"With a body like a snake's and a head like a woman's, a woman with black hair that has never seen a comb?"
He stared at me for a moment in silence, and at last stirred the fire as he had before. "You've seen that, haven't you? No, that's no goddess-it's a monster of some kind. Heracles was supposed to have rid this part of the world of them; but Heracles has been on the Mountain for four hundred years, and I suppose they're creeping back. Do you see it now?"
I shook my head.
"Good. I was hoping to get some sleep before these slaves stirred their lazy legs. If you see your monster again, don't touch it. Promise?"
"I promise." I almost said that if I were to touch him, that might be enough; but I did not.
He rose and stretched. "Then I'll try to sleep. A sleep without dreams, I hope. Empty of horrors. I ought to copy you and write myself a note forbidding me to talk to you in the dark. Alas, I lack your diligence. Good night again, Latro."
"Good night, Pindaros."
When he was gone, a small arm circled my waist. "I know you," I told its owner. "You're Io. I've been reading about you in this scroll."
"You're my master," the child said. "They had no right to do what they did to me. Only you."
"What did they do?" I asked, but she did not answer. Putting my arm about her shoulders, I looked at her face in the firelight and saw how many tears had furrowed those dusty cheeks. "If the serpent woman comes again, I'll tell her she can't have you."
She shook her head. "It's not that. I ran away, and now I've been punished for it."
"Did you run away from me, little Io? I wouldn't punish you if you did."
She shook her head. "From the Bright God. And I lied when I said he'd given me to you."
"Perhaps he did," I told her. Holding her close, I watched the silent figures in the shadows for some sign, but there was none. "The gods are not at all like us, little Io."
PART II
CHAPTER VII-Beside the Beached Ships
This little tent seems small indeed. When I woke a short time ago, I discovered this scroll. Being barred from leaving by the sentry at the door and not wishing to disturb the black man who shares this tent with me (he was busily carving a doll), I resolved to read it from the beginning.
I had hardly started when a man in a fine corselet of bronze came in, and I supposed him to be the healer of whom I had just read. He disabused me of that notion at once, saying, "My name's Hypereides, fellow. Hypereides the Trierarch, and I'm your master now. How can you pretend not to know me?"
I said, "I'm afraid I forget very quickly."
He scowled ferociously and pointed a finger at me. "Now I've got you! If you forget, how can you remember that?"
I explained that I had just read it and pointed to the place where it says, "The Healer says I forget very quickly, and that it is because of a wound I suffered in a battle."
"Wonderful," Hypereides said. "Wonderful! You've an answer for everything."
"No," I said. "I only wish I did. If you're not the healer, can you tell me where I am now?"
There was a stool in one corner of the tent. (I am using it now to write this.) He pulled it over and sat down, motioning for me to sit on the ground before him. "Armor's heavy stuff," he said, "something I never considered as a youngster, when I used to watch the soldiers ride past in the Panathenaea. You learn soon enough to sit when you can and as high as you can, so it's not too hard to stand up." He took off his helmet with its gorgeous crest of blue horsehair and scratched his bald head. "I'm too old for this sort of thing, let me tell you. I fought at Fennel Field, my boy, ten years ago. There was a battle! Would you like to hear the story?"
"Yes," I said. "Very much."
"You really would? You're not just saying that to please a man older than yourself?"
"No, I'd like it. Perhaps it would recall to me the battle in which I was wounded."
"You don't remember my telling you yesterday? No, I see you don't. I didn't mean to cause you such pain." He cleared his throat. "I'll make it up to you, my boy. I'm a wealthy man back home, though you mightn't think it to see me parading about in this stuff. I'm in leather, you see. Everybody in leather knows Hypereides." He paused and his smile faded. "Three ships the Assembly laid on me."
"Three ships?"
"Build them, outfit them, pay the rowers. It cost… well, you wouldn't believe what it cost. Want to take a look at them, my boy?"
"Yes. I'm sure I've seen ships before, somewhere, and they were very interesting."
"Certainly," Hypereides said. "You too."
Looking around, I saw that the black man had laid down the doll and his little knife and was asking by signs whether he might go with us.
"It's all right," Hypereides told the guard at the door. "In fact, I don't think we'll need you here any more. Go find Acetes and ask him what he wants you to do."
Three ships had been drawn up on the beach, and their red-painted sides were covered with men hammering hair and pine tar into their seams.
"We were hit by a blow rounding Cape Malea," Hypereides explained. "It loosened them up, and by the time we got to Tower Hill we were taking on more water than I liked. A man does learn a bit about ships in the leather trade, I'll admit; and I thought it better to caulk them now than to try to take them back home as they were, and for all I know be handed some urgent message and told to put to sea again at once. Certainly it wouldn't do to run into a few stray barbarians and find them in better shape than we are."
"Who are these barbarians?" I asked.
"Why, the Great King's navy, of course. With the help of Boreas, we beat them in the Strait of Peace, let me tell you. There was a battle! I wish you could see our rams, my boy; the bronze itself is scarred. There was a time-I don't expect you to believe this, yet it's the plain fact-when there was so much blood in the sea we floated a span deeper than usual, just as if we were running up an estuary. I'm telling you, every man you see here fought like a hero and every oar rose like a slaughtering spear."
He pointed. "That's my personal command in the middle there, Europa. A hundred and ninety-five men to pull her oars. A dozen soldiers besides myself, and four Sons of Scoloti to draw the bow. The soldiers don't have to be paid, being citizens like me or foreigners who live with us. But the rowers, my boy! Great gods, the rowers! Three obols a day for every stick, and their food. And wine for their water! A drachma every day for each Son of Scoloti. Two for the kybernetes. That's almost a dozen owls a day, just for Europa. With the other ships, it comes to twenty."
He paused, frowning down at the sandy ground, then looked up and smiled. "Did you catch the signification of her name, my boy? Europa was carried off by the Thunderer in the shape of a bull. So when people see Europa, they think of a bull-wait till you see her mainsail! And what does a bull make them think of? Why, leather, of course. Because the best and strongest leather is bull's hide. And let me tell you, my boy, there'll be a lot of shields to be refitted when this war's over. Leather-bull, bull-Europa, Europa-Hypereides. Besides, Europa gave her name to the whole continent, bigger than her brother's place and Libya's combined, and the barbarians come from the other side. Europe-Europa. Europa-Hypereides. So who're you going to buy your leather from when the war's over?"